One of my early impact days as an adult was in the summer of 1987. I was single, just out of college, had a new job, and a new apartment. My apartment was bare. The only furniture I had was an air mattress and a card table. I had returned to the apartment after work and was winding down. After a dinner of cold cereal, there was a knock on the door. It was my first guest in my home as an adult. Two men were at the door, wanting to talk. They were both in their thirties, and I had never seen them before. They were from a local church and wanted to welcome me to the neighborhood and to their church. I invited them in, and we talked for about 30 minutes. Since I had no furniture, they had to sit on the floor, leaning back against the wall. I don't really recall what we talked about specifically, but I was grateful for the visit and they invited me to their church on Sunday. After they had left, I received a phone call. That was unusual because I had just got the phone, and the only person who had my number was the leasing office at the apartment complex. The man on the other end of the phone made some small talk and then proceeded to proposition me to a homosexual encounter. I had never been exposed to a gay advance or to any type of brazen proposal. I hung up and immediately bolted the door. That day I was shown two paths. I did go to church that following Sunday, and a few months later, I accepted Christ as my savior.
Another impact day was about a year later. I had met this really amazing, fun and beautiful woman - but she was engaged to another man. I was captivated by her, but I kept my distance, knowing she was not available. I saw her every day at work, and we talked often. Dating wasn't an option, but friendship was. I got to know her better as a friend over the next few months. My impact day was after this. This amazing girl wanted to talk to me. She told me that she was no longer engaged. I had resigned myself to being just another friend. That night, I looked at her completely differently. She was still the same amazing, fun and beautiful girl I had as a friend. However, now she gave me hope for more. At that moment, I decided I wanted more. I asked her on a first date and we went out to eat that very night. In hindsight, I see that God had blessed me by making things go slowly. I was able to first make a friend without any girlfriend/boyfriend pressures or expectations. Three years later, I married that girl, and she's been impacting my life ever since.
Another impact day was in 1996. My bride was expecting our first child, and we were so excited. However, things were not going well. We went to the doctor together to see the latest ultrasound. However, when the doctor located the baby, it had become an unorganized mass. The doctor diagnosed it as a molar pregnancy, where the baby's development becomes unorganized into a cancerous tumor. My world was unravelling. In the morning, I was an excited expectant dad. My evening, the baby was lost and my wife needed surgery to remove a tumor. It was on that day that I learned not to take anything for granted. God did choose to rescue my baby girl and my wife. I was so thankful, but I learned that day not to take anything in life for granted. I learned that God gives and takes away at his good pleasure. God has taught me this lesson again and again since.
There have been many impact days since. The birth of my children, infant hospitalizations, first hugs, and more were all impactful. Each one helped me bond with the child and their mother.
There are two kinds of impact days - celebrations and tragedies. For the first 40 years of my life, most of my impact days have been celebrations. Since then, they have shifted more towards tragedy. I remember the day my son was diagnosed with autism. I didn't even know what autism was. I still don't have a real handle on what it means. Although we never verbalized it, we had lots of expectations, hopes and dreams for our boy. We believed our boy was typical. I had expectations of teaching him how to play sports, and becoming a big baseball and football fan. But my boy really didn't develop any interest in team sports. He preferred to be alone. He never really liked to hug his parents or show any affection. The day we received his diagnosis pushed us down a path that we still are stumbling down. It brought us ongoing depression. It brought financial hardship and emotional distress. It brings us fear for his future. We are afraid to hope. We now are working for his retirement instead of our own. However, it has brought us an excitement to reach milestones that would otherwise have gone unnoticed. He was eight years old when he first told us "I love you". I remember the excitement I felt when I realized he could add and subtract 3-digit figures. I remember the pride I felt when I saw his precise handwriting when he proactively wrote a list of all of his favorite cartoon characters. The day of his diagnosis was an impact day that changed everything.
Another impact day was my wife's cancer diagnosis. That was a scary and terrifying time. There were lots of tears. However, there was always hope. That day brought out my tenacity and purpose. We were facing a severe treatment, but we were sure we could get through it. Surgery and chemo were traumatic for her. Talking to my kids about it was traumatic for me. It was the hardest thing I had ever done up to that point. Recovery is slow, but I expect it will be complete someday.
All through life, I've seen God's hand in these impact days. The celebration days are easy. However, lately I struggle to see what God is doing in the tragedies, especially when the tragedy is far worse than anything good we can learn or glean from them. It frustrates me tremendously that God might use someone else's tragedy to teach me something. I don't understand why God would plague my son with autism. I don't know why God would drag my wife into depression. I don't know why God would choose to strike my wife with cancer. I don't know why he fails to protect a child from evil. I find my faith being strained in the trial, not strengthened. But as I waiver, I keep coming to the same conclusion - from John 6:67-69:
"You do not want to leave too, do you?" Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."
