A few days ago, a Facebook friend posted a thought-provoking video about a college philosophy professor who spent each semester convincing impressionable young people that God does not exist. Each semester, during the last class, he would challenge anyone who still believed in God to stand up and prove his or her case. No one was brave enough to do so, until one semester a young man, who was clearly secure in his faith, stood up.
The professor said that if there was a God, He would prevent the piece of chalk in the professor's hand (which he was preparing to drop) from shattering upon hitting the floor. In semesters previous, the chalk had predictably shattered upon hitting the floor.
This semester was different, however. The professor raised his hand above his head and dropped the chalk. But, instead of hitting the floor, it fell into the cuff of his shirt, rolling down the arm, down the length of his body, and out of his pants leg, rolling - intact - toward the desks. The professor changed his mind about God's existence.
The friend suggested that I re-post the link on my own Facebook page to spread the word. I decided to go one better.
Here is an essay I wrote for our church anthology in December 2007, and yes, it happened exactly this way.
JESUS IS OUR HOUSEGUEST
When my mother came home on hospice in mid-January 2007, my family committed ourselves to making Mom's last days on earth as full and comfortable for her as possible.
During a family meeting, we decided that Dad would care for Mom during the day and each of the three kids, including me, would stay through the night, administer Mom's medications and tend to her needs. This arrangement wouldn't be easy because we planned to each continue working during the day, and although some sleep was promised during the night, it would be interrupted every two hours for the purposes of managing Mom's pain.
It was during one of those early-morning pain management sessions that a most extraordinary thing happened.
As I walked down the hallway to the living room, where Mom was resting in a hospital bed, I heard her talking. I stopped for a moment to see if I could determine to whom she was speaking. It wasn't Daddy - he was fast asleep in the bedroom. Was she praying? No, the conversation was too comfortable for prayer. I finally decided she was on the phone, because all I could hear was her side of the chat.
But when I approached, I discovered it wasn't a phone conversation.
"Mom, who are you talking to?"
"Jesus," she said, matter-of-factly.
"I'm so sorry," I replied. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It's okay babe," she said. "He'll be back to talk. He's here right now."
Instinctively, I looked around. I didn't see Him, but rather felt Him. I felt warm, safe, and supported. I realized that, blessedly, we were not alone.
After I gave Mom her medicine, she wanted to talk. It would be the last lucid conversation we would share and I will cherish it in my heart forever.
As she began to tire, I held her soft hands in mine and I told her how much she meant to me and that I was truly blessed to have her as my mother. She told me that the blessing had been all hers from the day I was born to her.
Mom drifted off to sleep and I began to pray to the Lord, who had clearly taken up residency in our home. I thanked Him for my mother and her life. I asked him not to tarry. My mother's worn-out body was stretched out before me, and although I still believe in miracles, I knew the time had come. She was ready to go home.
A few weeks after Mom passed, I was telling Daddy about Mom's conversation with Jesus. Remarkably, he had a similar conversation with Mom. One afternoon, she told Daddy that Jesus was sitting on her bed.
There are very few things I understand or know about all that happened in the last days of my mother's life. This much I do know - though I did not see Him with my earthly eyes, Jesus was with my Mom to the very end and He was a very present comfort to me in a time of extreme need.
Whatever remaining doubts I may have harbored about Christ's existence vanished in January 2007, when I discovered Him as a houseguest in my parent's home.
"And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire, and after the fire a still small voice." - I Kings 19:12
"So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and in his good time He will honor you. Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about what happens to you." - I Peter 5:6-7
