Everything Is a Gift

"Everything is a gift." I've uttered those words many, many times -- in homilies and during conversations or meetings with parishioners and others, and yet, I still groan and moan when seemingly bad things happen to me. You'd think that by now I'd have learned that God always comes through when we turn it all over to Him. How did St. Paul put it? 

We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose [Rom 8:28].

Let me offer a wonderful and very recent example.

Last week Diane and I drove up to McDonough, Georgia to visit her cousin, Carolyn, who was very near death. As usual I decided to take the more scenic route and stay off the interstate.

As we neared the town of Fargo, Georgia we had a blowout in our right, rear tire. I'll admit that, overcome by the moment, I probably uttered a few bad words. But then I asked God to help us handle this unexpected crisis. And I know Diane offered a prayer because that's what she always does, and her prayers are much better than mine.

Interestingly, just the day before I had stopped by the local Firestone dealer, got an oil change, and asked them to check the tires. As I expected, they recommended getting new tires fairly soon. But it was a busy day, so I decided to wait until we returned from our 700-mile round trip to Georgia -- not a good decision.

Hearing that flat tire popping against the blacktop, I pulled over onto the grassy shoulder of the rural two-lane road. After checking the tire, I reached for my cellphone, thinking this might be a good job for AAA. But then I saw those hated words: "No service."

Resigned to my fate, I opened the back of our Kia Sorento, moved all the luggage into the back seat, and retrieved the jack and lug wrench. I then went through the laborious process of lowering the spare tire (one of those useless donuts) to the ground. Whoever last tightened those lug nuts on my right rear tire must have over-torqued them because I couldn't budge them. 

While all this was going on, perhaps one vehicle had passed by. Well, Diane decided to seek help and waved down the next vehicle, a large pickup towing a working trailer. I asked the driver if he had cell service, and of course he didn't. But he pulled over in front of our car, got out, and offered to help.

Between the two of us (he was a few years younger and obviously stronger) we got the lug nuts off and replaced the flat tire with the donut. I was concerned because the donut was obviously in need of air. That little tire requires 60 psi and I suspect it's pressure was no more than 30. Our Good Samaritan -- a man named Bill Stewart -- then led us seven miles down the road to a gas station in Fargo that fortunately had a working air pump.

After I'd ensured all the tires were properly inflated, Bill came out of the station's convenience store and handed me a package of Stewart Candy. "My brother and his wife run the family business," he said before waving good-bye and driving off. It was good candy, too -- those soft peppermint balls that Diane likes so much. Here's a link to their website: Stewart Candy. We'll be buying more from this company in Waycross, Georgia, since I've decided to check out their other products. It's the least I can do.

But the gift isn't over...not yet.

After we arrived in McDonough I knew I had to get four new tires, so I asked Carolyn's sons where I should buy them. Steve is a retired police captain and David is a successful commercial contractor, and they both recommended Carver Tire in McDonough. So I made an appointment for 10:30 Wednesday morning and dropped off the car. It would be ready by noon.

Carver Tire - McDonough, Georgia

Carolyn died that morning, July 31, just before noon. Diane and I joined several of her children and one of the wonderful home health aides who had cared for Carolyn, and we all gathered around her bedside during her last moments. I gave her a blessing and sang the "Song of Farewell" and moments later Carolyn closed her eyes. With that God blessed her with a peaceful death and took her into His loving, merciful embrace.

Diane's cousin, Carolyn Moore

As Carolyn lay dying, I received a call from the tire dealer telling me our car was ready. A while later, not long after Carolyn's death, her son, Steve, drove me there in his huge F-350 diesel pickup and dropped me off. The manager handed me the paperwork and my keys, thanked me for my business, and wished me a safe trip home. I held out my credit card and said, "Thanks, but don't you want to be paid?" He replied, "It's all taken care of...all paid for." When I asked who had paid for it, he just shrugged and said, "Don't know. You owe me nothing."

When I got back to Carolyn's house I discovered that her son, David, had paid for my four, new Cooper tires, all $650 worth. He just laughed and said it was their gift. Nothing I said could change his mind. I had to accept the gift.

So let's see...I had a flat tire in the middle of nowhere (apologies to the folks of Fargo, and trust they'll understand). Normally this would not be a good experience. But then God went to work.

We met a wonderful man who helped us, ensured we were good for the rest of our trip, and then gave us candy. 

David, one of Diane's cousins, gave me four new tires, which is even better than candy.

Steve, another cousin, and his wife Kathy, put us up in their lovely, lakefront home in Jackson, Georgia.

And, most wonderfully, Carolyn, one of the world's sweetest women, went home to the Father peacefully.

Oh, wait...there's more. The gifts keep coming.

After I returned to Carolyn's home with my new tires, the family asked if I would conduct the funeral. It was scheduled for a week later on Wednesday, August 7, in McDonough. Now realize that the entire family are good, faith-filled Southern Baptists and they've just asked this Catholic deacon to conduct their mom's funeral.

Several days later Diane and I drove up to Georgia once again, this time on I-75. As it turned out I ended up conducting the funeral jointly with one of their pastors, a delightful man, Pastor Tom Bergman. He gave the welcome, read a passage from Scripture, gave an opening prayer. Of course there were several hymns. I then preached the homily, based on John 14:1-6.

After lunch we drove 100 miles north to the cemetery in Bowman, Georgia where many in the family are buried. I led a brief committal service, Steve blessed us with a beautiful prayer, and we returend to McDonough.

Diane is the last of her generation on her father's side of the family, so it was a joy to get to know better those in succeeding generations. We're hoping that Steve and Kathy, as well as Carolyn's daighter, Kim, will come and visit us here in The Villages. They all seemed to like the idea.

It all began with a flat tire near Fargo, Georgia -- a minor catastrophe for these two senior citizens -- and brought us blessing after blessing, gift after gift.

And Carolyn? We will miss her terribly, but for 88 years she lived the life Jesus asked her to live by loving God and neighbor. May she rest in God's peace.