Early in this health journey, I had an unexpected visitor.

I had been sent to Victoria for treatment. Shortly after checking in to the Emergency Room, I was asked to give another sample. I felt gross and vulnerable, but dutifully handed back the container. After a short wait, the results were in.

I had C. difficile.

It’s a highly contagious infection that can be especially dangerous in hospitals, where many people have weakened immune systems.

My unexpected visitor meant I had to be in isolation, with only my family able to visit. Nurses, doctors, and care aides all had to put on personal protective equipment (PPE) before entering my space. I had to use a commode in my curtained cubicle instead of the patient washrooms.

I felt shame, disgust, and revulsion at the prospect of what my neighbours through the curtain might hear and smell.

I was in that space for four days while we waited for a room of my own rather than a shared room. As the time ticked by, I had moments of impatience and frustration, worry about my wife’s well-being, and concern about our family’s finances.

Yet my unexpected visitor came with its own blessings.

I wrote to you already about listening through the curtains to the stories of those around me. My journal is full of those stories, because they were a blessing.

I was grateful for the blessing of time in solitude to read and reflect. I enjoyed short walks in the courtyard, being careful not to touch things. And when the room finally came, that too was a blessing.

It faced south, with a view of the Olympic Mountains through a large picture window. My wife had the good idea of moving the bed so I could better take in the view. The room was cleaned twice a day. And perhaps the greatest blessing of all: it had its own washroom, complete with a shower.

That room became my home base for exploring the hospital gardens, atrium, chapel, and more. As time went on, I was able to receive a few friends from Victoria—wearing PPE, of course. I spent time with my wife. I read, gave blood samples, reflected, made my medical reports, chatted with hospital staff, and enjoyed the view.

My heart was filled with gratitude.

It still is.

My visitor was unexpected and came with challenges, but it also came with many blessings.

And perhaps that is one of the things this experience has taught me about life.

Unexpected things come to each of us. Some are unwanted. Some are shocking. Some are painful. They are not what we hoped for, and often not what we would ever have chosen.

But sometimes, hidden within those unexpected moments, are unexpected gifts.

So when the unexpected comes to us, my prayer is twofold.

First, that we will have the courage to name what is difficult: the shock and dismay, the challenges and discomfort, the losses and sadness.

To lament.

The Psalms give us many beautiful examples of how to do that. We don't have to pretend that something is good when it isn't.

And second, that we will also look for the unexpected blessings that have come.

This is so much more than optimism. It is trusting that what is unexpected to us is not unexpected to God.

I don't believe that everything that happens to us is good. But I do believe that God is good. And I believe that even in the things we would never have chosen, God is already at work—comforting, sustaining, redeeming, and bringing unexpected gifts.

So when the unexpected comes, name the pain. Lament what is lost. And then, as we're able, look for the blessing. Expect it.

Because God is good, he loves each of us, and nothing that comes into our lives is beyond his ability to redeem.

With you for Christ,

Pastor Jeremy