Yesterday morning, after listening to another gloomy economic report, I started obsessing about my son’s job situation. Will he find work? How will he live? What’s going to happen to him? In the afternoon, I talked to him on the phone. “It’s easy to get depressed when new layoffs are announced ever day,” he said. “But God will provide.” His steady, quiet voice calmed me, and for the first time that day, I found peace.
This morning, he peace continued, and my sense of humor returned when the radio announcer said the latest figures showed the economy shrinking at its greatest rate since the first quarter of 1982. That’s the year Allen was born. He came into the world right about when the scope of that year’s economic downturn was hitting the airwaves. He was greeted by parents who earned less than $20,000 a year and didn’t know how they would pay the $100,000 worth of medical bills their son racked up in his first year of life. They didn’t know where the money would come from for their mounting travel expenses either. But somehow, in those hard economic times, God provided all they needed, and every bill was paid.
Now, almost twenty-seven years later, God brings Allen out of the monastery and into our world again, healed and whole after PTSD therapy, smack into the worst economic conditions since he was born. How could my sense of humor not come back in the presence of God’s perfect comedic timing? When I listen to the news, Allen’s chances of finding a job seems impossible. But when I remember how God provided for his needs twenty-seven years ago, hope returns. Today I stand expectant, waiting for the punch line, ready to laugh.
