You never know.

"But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love."  --Psalm 33:18

This is a story about God. 

I know, I know. All my blogs go that direction. This one-- is a story about a God who peers straight into our hearts and into our lives and does amazing things. 

My friend Beth has had a rough week. In very (very) short order, her husband Jim has been diagnosed with leukemia. It's a particularly pernicious variety, and treatment needs to begin-- yesterday. No time, really, for much debate or conversation-- just trust that these doctors know what they are doing, pray that God's hand is clearly visible in it all.

Today, Beth headed to the hospital. Jim was to have surgery to install the port for the upcoming chemotherapy, just as soon as an operating room became available. Meanwhile, half an hour away, Beth's friends were in chapel, praying . For her, for Jim.

First answered prayer: Jim is "next in line" and an OR opens up. (Yeah, I am sure it was "just a coincidence" of Timing. You go with that. Keep reading.)

At noon, we gather for choir practice. Beth is conspicuously absent, her sunshine and smile, her silly comments. We gather and read through a chorus that sings of God's healing power, of how wide, how deep-- how strong and mighty is the healing touch of God. 

We all know, we are singing to Beth in our hearts.

Choir goes as planned, and at the end our director suggests we sing this chorus again-- because he needs to. (We all do.) Just as we begin, I get a text from Beth: "I love my choir!"

That did it.

As we started singing, I dialed her number, put the phone on "speaker" and held it up. We were going to sing our love right back to Beth, let her know she was in our hearts.

Hardest sing we ever did. But we did it. 

When we finished, I rang off my phone and was surprised to see a voicemail from Beth: "Heidi, I saw you called, but I pushed a wrong button and hung up by mistake. Call me back; I'm right here."

In the inimitable words of Beetle Bailey-- *&^%^#!!

Our singing-- gone. Our love letter to this girl and her man-- undelivered. Crud. I sat there, stunned and determined not to say anything to the choir. 

But wait-- there's more!

 I was pretty darned crestfallen. Felt a bit like someone had doused Cyrano with a bucket of ice water. Finally, I texted Beth and told her what we had tried to do, shared the nature of the lyrics.

She replied back in short order.

When she "hit a wrong button," the call rolled to her voicemail. 

Our love song, our testimony to God's perfect healing and love, had landed in her mailbox, to be listened to again and again, to be shared with Jim when he was rested enough, to tell of the love of Christ for each of us and in each of us.

* * * * *

Say what you like. Tell me it's all just the normal way cell phone carriers work.

You will not convince me. 

You never, ever know what God will choose or who God will use to communicate his deep, unwavering, unconditional love for us. 

For each of us. Even you, and even me. Just ask Beth.