Well, ain’t that ironic?

Some ironies make me tilt my head. Why do we park on driveways and drive on parkways? Why do they call them apartments when they are so close together? Shouldn’t they be closements? Iceland is green and Greenland is ice. “Abbreviated” is a very long word. “Monosyllabic” has five syllables.

Some ironies are more subtle than others. I have close to 700 friends on my Facebook page so I see lots of pictures. A lot of them make me chuckle.

Obvious ironies make me go, “hmm” but the strange ironies of life intrigue me. For example, tomorrow afternoon I will board a JetBlue flight bound for Orlando to spend a couple weeks with my dad at my sister’s house. There’s nothing ironic about that. The irony will come Friday morning when I walk through the front doors of Florida Hospital in Celebration to meet with a group of Rotary members.

I’ve been to that hospital before. It was almost exactly 2 years ago when I walked through the doors of the emergency department to discover that I would not survive unless I got a liver transplant. My transplant journey started at Florida Hospital in Celebration.

How weird is it that the first non-church civic group that I get to share my transplant story with is at the same hospital where I was diagnosed, 1400 miles from home? I think it’s pretty ironic and kinda cool. I get to tell my story and talk about organ donation at the same place where organ donation became the top priority in my life.

For me, walking through those doors will signal a huge victory and a tremendous testimony to the power of prayer. Two years ago I was a patient here begging God to spare my life and use me to His glory. Now, I will be returning only because of His hand on my life. Only 246 people received livers from living donors in 2012. I was one of them. Wow.

The irony of this opportunity is not lost on me. Two years ago I faced death at this place and now I return having the opportunity to share life; abundant life. No, I cannot preach to this civic group, but I cannot tell my story without telling of God’s goodness, His provision and His presence during my darkest days.  His Grace is my story.

I know a number of my readers don’t buy into this God stuff. I know they believe Jesus was just a man. I’m not going to argue. All I can tell you is what I’ve lived, what I’ve experienced and why I believe. All I can tell you is that my faith defines me, shapes me, empowers me and has never let me down. If you ever want to try to understand where I’m coming from and why, or want the peace that I have for yourself, I’d love to talk with you. If you want to fight … I’ve got no stones to throw.

Friday will be a great day for me and a demonstration of God’s power and glory. He is taking me back to the place where I felt the greatest defeat in my life to remind me just how almighty He is. My God likes irony.

Walking down the street, Jesus saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned: this man or his parents, causing him to be born blind?”  Jesus said, “You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do.  John 9:1-3 (The Message)