Featured Articles
En la espera
por Gary Khan
Cuando tenía poco más de veinte años, Dios me dio una palabra y una visión de cuál era su destino para mí. Fue abrumador y convincente, y he pasado el resto de mi vida esperando que Él cumpla esa visión. Sin embargo, me elude. El tiempo avanza sigilosamente, y me parece estar parado, preguntándome cuándo veré el cumplimiento de esa promesa de Dios.
¿Alguna vez se ha sentido así? Dios le pone una palabra en el corazón, una promesa para el futuro, y luego Él guarda silencio y parece que se ha olvidado de lo que dijo. Para mí, esto ha resultado en tormentas de dudas que arrecian dentro de mí. Esas dudas a veces me llevan a tomar decisiones precipitadas al decidir «ayudar» a Dios adelantándome a Él para cumplir su promesa.
Abraham tuvo una experiencia similar. Dios le dijo que su descendencia sería tan numerosa como la arena del mar, cuando Abraham aún no había engendrado ni un solo hijo. Después de que Dios le diera esa palabra, transcurrieron décadas sin ver el cumplimiento. Abraham tuvo que vivir en la espera, y en ese tiempo de espera hizo algunas cosas que nosotros haríamos bien en evitar. La historia se encuentra en Génesis 15 y 16.
Abraham dudó
En el sentido literal de la palabra, Abraham hizo algunas decisiones importantes como resultado de la conversación de Dios con él, decisiones que parecían carecer de resultados inmediatos.
Por un momento, pongámonos en la misma situación. Dios nos habla sobre un cambio importante en nuestra vida y luego guarda silencio. ¿Cuántos de nosotros le obedeceríamos de inmediato? O, ¿andaríamos de un lado a otro luchando con dudas sobre si realmente hemos oído a Dios? Ahora mismo, ¿cuántos de nosotros no estamos haciendo la mayor parte de lo que Él nos ha pedido que hagamos porque dudamos del resultado?
Ya puedo oírlo. Algunos de ustedes están pensando: Pero Abraham es diferente. A él Dios se le apareció en persona, así que no debería haber dudado. Yo no recibo visitas personales de Dios.
Quizá no recibamos una visita personal como la tuvo Abraham, pero hoy tenemos al Espíritu Santo de Dios. Él vive en nosotros y está con nosotros, guiándonos y conduciéndonos a toda verdad. Por otro lado, imagine por un momento que él recibió una visitación de Dios, pero luego tuvo que caminar día tras día ante la realidad de que lo que Dios le dijo que pasaría no ha sucedido a pesar de que han pasado años de espera y varios intentos de cumplir Su promesa. En esos momentos del «día tras día», las dudas comienzan a visitar, haciendo afirmaciones que ponen en duda las promesas de Dios.
¿Realmente escuché a Dios, o fue la pizza que comí esa noche?
En serio, sé que Dios puede hacer cualquier cosa, pero ¿haría eso por mí? No soy tan especial. Tal vez estoy haciendo algo mal. Recuerde, «Dios ayuda a los que se ayudan a sí mismos», así que, si quiero ver que esto suceda, entonces tengo que hacer que suceda.
Debemos aprender a prever a esas dudas. Si usted es como yo, desea que Dios le reafirme en todo momento hasta el cumplimiento de la promesa, y después quiere que le siga reafirmando que todo va por buen camino. Queremos una seguridad constante, pero Dios quiere que confiemos en Él. La necesidad de una seguridad permanente no fortalece nuestra fe en Él.
Cómo lidiar con la duda mientras espera
La táctica probada del enemigo es poner en duda lo que Dios nos ha dicho. Es un truco tan antiguo como el tiempo. En Génesis le preguntó a Eva:
¿De veras Dios les dijo que no deben comer del fruto de ninguno de los árboles del huerto? (Génesis 3:1, NTV).
Debemos reconocer esta táctica y estar preparados para confrontarla. En el Nuevo Testamento, Santiago dice a los cristianos que podemos vencer a Satanás y su artimaña de la duda:
Así que sométanse a Dios. Resistan al diablo, y él huirá de ustedes. (Santiago 4:7, NVI).
Someterse y resistir. Nos sometemos creyendo en la Palabra de Dios, y resistimos permaneciendo en esa Palabra en fe y declarándola sobre nuestras vidas. Nosotros resistimos cuando vivimos en la realidad de lo que Dios ha hablado en lugar de reaccionar a las dudas que Satanás está susurrando. Podemos vencer la duda, y la manera de hacerlo es recordándonos a nosotros mismos y al enemigo la Palabra de Dios que nos ha dado.
Cuando Abraham y Sara se vieron asediados por las dudas que surgieron a causa del silencio de Dios, habrían hecho bien en recordar lo que Dios les había dicho. Se habrían ahorrado muchos problemas y angustias. Lo mismo vale para nosotros. El enemigo busca robar, matar y destruir la obra de Dios en nosotros, pero Dios ha prometido que Su Palabra no volverá vacía. ¿Cómo podemos recordar las preciosas promesas de Dios?
- Memorice Su Palabra y repítala cuando sea necesario.
- Léela con frecuencia y aférrese a Sus promesas. Él cumplirá lo que nos ha prometido en su Palabra.
Las dudas continuarán apareciendo, una tras otra. La persistencia del enemigo, combinada con la aparente lentitud de Dios y su silencio, nos conduce a una encrucijada en la que muchos de nosotros actuamos en base de nuestras dudas en lugar de apoyarnos en las promesas de Dios. Eso nunca acaba bien.
Si confiamos más en nuestros planes que en los de Dios, nos enfrentaremos con estas situaciones:
- Nunca podremos ver el panorama general como lo hace Dios.
Dios no está limitado por el tiempo ni por el espacio y ve cómo cada cosa pequeña afecta al panorama general; nosotros nunca podremos hacer eso. Cuando optamos por confiar en nuestros planes en lugar de los planes de Dios, corremos enormes riesgos. Puede que seamos capaces de planificar tres pasos por delante de nosotros, pero incluso eso está plagado de problemas porque nunca podemos predecir cómo puede reaccionar una persona ante algo que hacemos, y no sabemos qué ocurrirá en el panorama general de las cosas.
- Nuestras motivaciones se convierten en un problema.
Cuando Dios planifica, está creando una obra maestra que será para el bien de toda la humanidad. Cuando nosotros planeamos, normalmente nos preocupamos por nosotros mismos y por conseguir lo que queremos. Basta con mirar lo que sucedió con Abraham, Sara, Agar e Ismael.
A Sara no le preocupaba el plan grandioso de Dios de traer la salvación al mundo a través de Abraham. Su motivación para tener un hijo era liberarse del estigma de no poder darle un hijo a su marido. Cuando le pareció que Dios tardaba demasiado, ideó un plan para tener ese hijo a través de un vientre subrogado. Agar era su sierva, así que estaba con Sara todo el tiempo. Agar probablemente vio la tristeza de Sara y la escuchó mientras sollozaba y se quejaba de que no podía darle un hijo a su marido. No sé de quién fue la idea, si de Sara o de Agar, pero sea como fuere, puedo afirmar que Sara no pensaba en el bienestar de Agar. Simplemente la veía como un medio para alcanzar su fin.
Uno de los problemas que surge cuando dudamos es que, en lugar de confiar en el tiempo de Dios, nos adelantamos y utilizamos a la gente que nos rodea «en nombre de Dios», dejando tras nosotros una senda de destrucción y quebranto. - Las personas no siempre responden de la manera que esperamos o como prometieron que lo harían.
Agar pudo haberle dicho a Sara que haría esto como su amiga y sierva. Puede que tuviera buenas intenciones. Cuando yo era niño y escuchaba esta historia, simplemente suponía que Agar se había quedado embarazada tras una aventura de una noche. Pero la realidad es que Abraham probablemente se acercó a Agar más de una vez, y cuando Agar empezó a tener relaciones sexuales con Abraham, las cosas cambiaron. Siempre sucede así cuando se empieza a tener relaciones sexuales, porque Dios lo hizo así.
Cuando Agar descubrió que estaba embarazada, las cosas cambiaron aún más. Empezó a creer que ahora significaría más para Abraham y para Sara. Pero la triste realidad es que, ante los ojos de Abraham y Sara, Agar siempre fue la esclava, un simple medio para un fin.
No sólo Agar no respondió como estaba previsto, sino que Sara tampoco reaccionó como ella pensaba. Sara no pudo predecir que se volvería sumamente celosa de Agar. Ella miraba cada noche como Abraham se iba con Agar. Con el tiempo empezó a afectarle, por muy ilustrada que se creyera. Seguía diciéndose a sí misma que era por una causa mayor, pero supongo que algo también cambió en la relación entre ella y Agar. Agar probablemente empezó a actuar menos como una esclava y más como un miembro de la familia con derechos. Probablemente empezó a usar un lenguaje más familiar con Sara, y Sara empezó a sentirse insegura y celosa.
«¿Quién se ha creído que es esta muchacha? ¡Abraham es mi marido! ¡Ella tiene que recordar cuál es su lugar!».
Cuando Agar descubrió que estaba embarazada, es posible que Sara pensara: «Debería estar contenta, pero no lo estoy. Estoy enfadada porque esta mujer me está robando lo que debería ser mío, la odio».
Estos no son los sentimientos que Sara pensó que tendría cuando trazó el plan para realizar el trabajo que le correspondía a Dios, pero ese es el problema. Somos demasiado miopes para ser el Planificador Maestro.
- Nuestras malas decisiones le dan mala fama a Dios.
Después de que Agar diera a luz a su hijo, Sara se puso celosa y empezó a tratarla mal. Me pregunto cómo veía entonces Agar al Dios de Sara. Después de todo, Sara debe haber hablado del Todopoderoso como alguien amoroso y bondadoso, alguien que protege y provee para aquellos que lo siguen. Sin embargo, aquí estaba Sara tratando a Agar con desprecio y antipatía. La gente a menudo determina el carácter de Dios basándose en la forma en que sus seguidores los tratamos.
Uno de mis mejores amigos tenía un cartel en su cocina que decía: «¡Si mamá no es feliz, nadie es feliz!». Esas palabras son ciertas, y Abraham lo comprobó. Sara exigió que Agar e Ismael se marcharan porque no quería a «esa mujer» y a «ese chico» cerca de su precioso Isaac. Le hizo la vida imposible a Abraham. Finalmente, él cedió a regañadientes y despidió a Agar e Ismael. Lo loco es que Dios estuvo de acuerdo con la conclusión de Sara (tal vez no con sus acciones) y le dijo a Abraham que los enviara lejos. Especulemos un poco comprendiendo un poco la naturaleza humana.
Abraham, angustiado por tener que despedir a Ismael, tuvo una conversación con él:
«Hijo, realmente no quiero hacer esto, pero ya conoces a Sara. Me va a hacer la vida imposible. La verdad es que la aguantaría, pero Dios me dijo que te enviara lejos, así que debo hacerlo».
¿Cuál crees que era la impresión que Agar e Ismael tenían de Dios? Creo que creerían que Él no se preocupaba por ellos. Lo verían como mezquino y vengativo, poco amable y manipulador.
Han transcurrido treinta años desde aquella palabra que Dios me dio acerca de mi destino. He cometido muchos de los errores que cometió Abraham, pero he aquí la buena noticia: Las promesas que Dios nos hace son inquebrantables. Él hará lo que dice que hará. Así que mientras esperamos, confíe en que Él cumplirá lo que dijo que haría. Resista la duda que el enemigo provoca y que nos hace querer adelantarnos o rendirnos por completo. Abraham pudo haber dudado y haber dado algunos pasos en falso en el camino, pero afortunadamente corrigió su curso, y Dios fue fiel en cumplir su Palabra.
Sobre el Autor
Gary Khan fue pastor durante 32 años de la Iglesia de la Biblia Abierta Desert Streams en Santa Clarita, California. Actualmente es director ejecutivo de operaciones de Marketplace Chaplains en el sur de California. También forma parte de la Junta Directiva Nacional de La Biblia Abierta y es director del distrito Sur de California/Arizona/Hawaii. Gary es autor de los devocionales Greater (Cosas Mayores) y Reset (Reinicio), así como de su libro de próxima publicación, That Didn’t Go the Way I Thought: Navigating the Ups and Downs of Our Journey of Faith (Esto no salió como yo pensaba: Cómo navegar por los altibajos de nuestro camino de fe). El mayor logro y alegría de Gary es ser esposo de DeLaine desde hace 32 años y ser el padre de tres hijos increíbles (dos biológicos y uno «adoptado»).
I wonder what happened on all the August 5ths throughout my life. I experienced forty-seven of them as an innocuous number on the calendars of my life: unremarkable, ordinary, plain. I breezed past them without a thought and left them behind without a thought, too.
I will never forget my forty-eighth August 5th. For the rest of my (hopefully) long life, every 5th day of August will be marked in red and circled with a thick highlighter of remembrance. That is the date my husband Josh and I received the phone call that every parent dreads – the kind you read about in someone else’s story and pray never crosses into your own.
But on August 5, 2025, it did.
Fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
We were on top of a mountain in Idaho during a church staff retreat when the Life360 app on my phone — an app our family uses to share locations and receive crash or emergency notifications — suddenly and jarringly blared a warning, alerting me that our middle daughter, Adelaide, was involved in a critical incident.
I cannot explain the cold fear that washed over me in that moment. That kind of fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
Many frantic minutes later, a deputy called us to let us know that our daughter was involved in a serious car accident and was not doing well. We continued to learn, as we scrambled off the mountain, that she was being life-flighted to the hospital…and that was all we knew.
For nearly two hours.
Fear does another thing: it slows time down to a minuscule crawl that leaves you weeping, screaming, and shaking your fist at the world as you drive at “safe” speeds to where your daughter lies in an unknown state without you.
I will spare the reader from those moments of agony: the prayers that dripped onto my lap, the pleading and begging, brokenness too intimate for anyone but my Father to understand.
I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
One of the sweetest moments of my existence is the moment I first saw my daughter’s beautiful face as she lay on the emergency room’s gurney, smeared in blood but oh-so alive. Her voice asking if anyone else was hurt, her precious feet sticking out from the blanket, and her fingers curled in mine. The fifth of August will always hold that breathtaking image in my heart.
Adelaide sustained many traumatic injuries from her accident. For that entire first night in the ICU, I was bent over her in prayer, overwhelmed with both terror and joy, each one warring against the other and trying to take control. I battled in prayer for my girl that night, refusing to back down and contending with ferocity. I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
I kept repeating the 8th and 9th verses of Isaiah 58, sometimes whispering them, sometimes sobbing them, but always experiencing them. There are promises in the Word that you no longer just read but experience; there is a knowing that changes your entire world.
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: ‘Here am I’ (NIV).
I called out to Jesus, and He didn’t have to run to answer because He was already there, holding not just me in His arms, but Addy as well.
As I called out to Him, He kept saying, “Here am I.” He continued repeating those words, never growing weary of saying them to me— it was His liturgy over me.
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
I could hear His love, see His protection, and feel His Presence.
The healing He provided was as stunning as the first break of dawn, filling my feeble world with light. Adelaide’s lacerated lungs were miraculously sealed the next morning. Doctors came into her ICU room and were stunned to see my sweet girl smiling back at them, her healing defying the accident she endured. Today, she wears her testimony on her leg in the form of a gnarly scar, and it is proof of the Lord’s providence and healing that she loves to share with others. He guarded Adelaide on every side, and His purpose went before her. The glory of the Lord was her rearguard, and for that, this momma will never stop praising Him.
Every August 5th and each day that He gives.
*To read more from Melissa and what God has taught her through this event, read her related article: Five Things I Didn’t Know I Needed to Learn About Prayer.
About the Author
Melissa Stelly serves as the executive pastor at Turning Point Church in Spokane, Washington, alongside her husband, Josh Stelly. She has attended Turning Point for thirty-four years. She is the mother of three daughters, adores camping, hiking, and adventuring, is a voracious reader, and considers Mt. Rainier one of the greatest accomplishments the Lord created. Most days in her free time you will find her curled up with a good book or taking a long walk.
“Babe, I think we need to steal Christmas.” I said this to my wife, Kelley, as we were driving back from a family celebration. Without any further explanation, she knew I meant that the atmosphere of our family gatherings had left a lot to be desired. It wasn’t that they were bad; in fact, they were fun and filled with love, but we both sensed that commercialism had taken over and God wanted more for us; He was highlighting these family gatherings as spaces where He wanted to be on display.
I continued processing with Kelley: “…On second thought, changing Christmas might be too much for our families to handle, but I think we could probably take over next year’s Thanksgiving celebration. If we start planting the seeds now, then in ten years no one will notice that little by little we’ve taken over planning the big gatherings—until Christmas is just handed to us!”
… it was in this moment that Thanksgiving was reborn for our family.
Kelley looked at me skeptically. Okay, so maybe my plan to steal Christmas was a little ambitious and made me sound like a Pixar villain, but it was in this moment that Thanksgiving was reborn for our family. We brainstormed, we got excited, and Kelley helped wrangle us under God’s wisdom. As we prayed, God showed us a whole new way to gather at the table.
First, the table needed to be extended, both literally and metaphorically. We wanted to combine both sides of our family under one roof (can you say high risk?). Everyone was welcome, and we made sure to personally invite those without family or community. Kelley and I are part of a ministry that focuses on underserved neighborhoods in Toledo, Ohio. There is no shortage of people here who need to be connected to God’s love and see His family in action on days that remind them of trauma, hardship, and pain (including holidays).
Second, old traditions had to die for new ones to be born. Bye-bye, TV trays and football games; hello, giant thankfulness tree. Transparently, it was at this point that I was a little concerned; we were taking on generations of tradition, and I still wasn’t sure how to put God on display like He wanted to be. That was when He showed us the big one: The Food. Goodbye, turkey, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole.
A new tradition was born. Instead of the traditional Thanksgiving meal, we picked a foreign culture and tried our hand at making their traditional dishes, desserts, and drinks. We adopted their games, played their music, and decorated our home with their colors. It was a huge risk, and it was a hit!
As we prayed, God showed us a whole new way to gather at the table.
After several years of these reinvented Thanksgivings, both our family and neighbors are fully on board. Each year, everyone at the table votes on the next cultural cuisine, and now, eight years in, Thanksgiving has become a highlight tradition. People dress up, experiment with exotic dishes, invite friends, and—most importantly—shower one another with love. Some years the gathering has grown so large we’ve even had to find a new venue.
Our “thankfulness tree,” built by Kelley, has become the centerpiece of the gathering. Each person writes down what they’re grateful for, shares it, and adds their leaf. And year after year we’ve saved them, creating a beautiful archive of gratitude. Neighbors without family have joined us too, finding a place to share thanks, receive prayer, and encounter God’s love through new traditions. Along the way, we’ve cooked some unforgettable meals, and one of my favorite moments has been watching people set aside hesitation to try something new when the familiar comforts aren’t on the table. That kind of openness has sparked amazing conversations about God, suffering, love, and family.
God has been on full display, His table extended, His traditions for us established, and His love something I am truly thankful for.
(Oh, and did we just so happen to host Christmas at our house last year? You betcha.)
About the Author
Corey Bern resides in the often overlooked rustbelt city of Toledo, Ohio, where he savors beautiful moments with his daughter, Liberty, and beautiful wife, Kelley. Corey serves as associate pastor of Washington Church as well as director of The Lewis House, an inner-city ministry that partners with Open Bible Churches. When he isn’t walking alongside others on their journey to the Father’s heart, he’s often hidden away in the world’s coolest under-the-stairs office with a good book—or helping Liberty baptize Barbies.
“Your father’s kidney is no longer functioning in your body, but twenty-one years is a good run. You need to start dialysis.”
That wasn’t the deal I had made with the Lord. When I received my kidney transplant from my dad, he was the perfect match. I was fourteen years old and had been sick for too long; I wanted to be a normal kid. I had been born with kidney disease, and doctors had no hope for me. They had transferred that hopelessness to my parents. My dad reminds me all the time how he questioned God: “Was it my sins or my wife’s sins that brought on this disease?”
God clearly answered him the way Jesus replied in John 9:3: “It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.” I found it interesting that the one who asked (my dad) was the one who gave. His gift of a kidney lasted twenty-one years, which was a miracle in itself. The average kidney transplant lasts twelve to fifteen years. While twenty-one years was a miracle, I wasn’t satisfied: my father’s kidney was supposed to last until God called me home. God was supposed to heal me.
On February 17, 2022, I sat in a dialysis chair for the first time in twenty-one years, overwhelmed by fear of what lay ahead. A doctor and social worker assured me their goal was to get me a new kidney quickly. Their confidence comforted me; I believed God had placed me in a facility where things would move smoothly and quickly.
After nine months of hearing nothing, a new social worker finally told me I was on the UCSF transplant list. I’ll never forget it—my husband said it was the best wedding anniversary gift. We were thrilled, believing we were one step closer to a new kidney. But on December 30, everything changed. The social worker told me I was not on the list after all and needed to call UCSF to check on my application status.
I wasn’t satisfied: my father’s kidney was supposed to last until God called me home. God was supposed to heal me.
What had felt like a glimmer of hope was gone in just a few weeks, and I was crushed. On January 3, 2023, I called UCSF, and the woman who answered was kind and encouraging, saying, “Let’s make sure we get you a kidney. You’re too young to be going through this.”
I met with doctors, nurses, and the transplant team over Zoom to assess if I was mentally and physically ready for a transplant. They informed me the wait for a kidney could be five to nine years, and when the meeting was over, I still had no assurance of a place on the transplant list. With that news, my strength started to wear thin, but I kept praying, trusting that somehow God would help me through whatever lay ahead.
In His strength, I returned to teaching with a smile, determined to make the most of the next five to nine years as I poured into my second graders and their future. As the worship pastor at Life Church in Concord, California, I encouraged others not to lose confidence in God, even when things felt out of control.
In June 2023, I attended the Open Bible National Convention in Texas on the very days I normally had dialysis. I went against medical advice, not realizing how much God had in store. The conference began on Tuesday, and I felt unusually tired and heavy-hearted. I wondered, “What if this is it? What if the deal I made with God was to keep going for the next five to nine years, and then He would take me home?”
That night, I shared those thoughts with my husband. I wasn’t giving up, I was simply accepting what I thought was God’s plan. I reminded him that despite all our prayers, my mom and his mom had both gone home to be with Jesus. I was learning that life is precious, but we don’t always get the answer we hope for. Still, I wasn’t defeated; I was fighting my way forward, bearing the bruises and scars of a warrior.
The next morning, a group of women prayed over me, asking God to release a miracle and heal me from needing dialysis. Their prayer stirred my spirit, though my body still felt weary. That night during worship as “Firm Foundation” played, tears streamed down my face. My spirit believed God wouldn’t fail, but my body felt the weight of exhaustion and the marks of treatment.
I heard God say clearly, … “I’m hitting the reset button. Get ready.”
After the service, I saw Tirsa, a missionary from Nicaragua who had visited our church when I was young. She knew my mom, and that connection meant everything. She prayed boldly for a miracle, that I would no longer need dialysis. I felt in my spirit that I needed to be prayed for by Angie Sissel, one of my spiritual mothers. As I waited for her, my eyes kept being drawn to the green circle in that year’s conference theme. I heard God say clearly, “I’m hitting the reset button.” I asked if He meant my kidneys, but He simply repeated, “I’m hitting the reset button. Get ready.”
When “Momma Angie” prayed over me, her husband, Pastor Derek Sissel, shared a word from the Lord. He looked me in the eyes and said, “God’s not done with you. There’s still fire inside you. Stop thinking He’s finished.” Tears ran down my face. He had no way of knowing what I’d said in private the night before, but God had heard me. I called my husband that night and told him everything.
Thursday brought a surprise. During our free time, my husband told me to answer the unknown number that had been calling because it might be the hospital. When I finally answered, it was the transplant team. They told me a kidney might be available the next day. I explained I was in Texas, but they said it was fine, I was second in line. If the person ahead of me wasn’t a match, the kidney would be mine.
All day, I kept my phone close. During the Convention’s evening reception, they called again, not to confirm the kidney yet, but to make sure I was still reachable. I stayed on edge, waiting.
Friday morning, we flew home. As soon as we landed and were driving home, the call came: “Mrs. Wolfe? The kidney is yours. Please be at the hospital by 4:30 p.m. for your final dialysis treatment, then head to UCSF.”
I jumped up and down in my seat, telling everyone in the van, “My kidney is on its way!” I called my husband, and he told his boss, “I need to go get my wife; she’s getting her kidney today!”
On June 17, 2023, I received my transplant—a gift I know came straight from the Lord. It all happened so fast I didn’t have time to question the fact that it came from someone who had passed. I later learned it came from a young person. I know their family must have experienced immense pain, but I am deeply grateful. Because of their generosity, I have life again. I can teach, lead worship, and now preach.
After I returned home and began recovering, I received a letter from UCSF. It said I had been placed on the transplant list as of June 6, 2023, just ten days prior to the phone call that informed me I’d been given a kidney. Ten days. After losing nearly a year and a half of my life, God needed only ten days to give me a kidney. It reminded me—He’s not done with me. It was my mom’s time to go home and my mother-in-law’s too. But not mine.
Now, whenever an opportunity comes, I say yes. God gave me life—again—so He can fulfill His promises and purpose through me. If He isn’t done with my story, I know He’s not done with yours. Pray, lean in, surrender the outcome, and He will surprise you! He’s not done.
Mary Lou Wolfe is a worship pastor, preaching team lead, and second grade teacher at Life Church in Concord, California. She has been married to her husband, Chris, for twelve years and their goldendoodle, Brock, is almost two years old. She was born and raised in the Bay Area. Her dad, Ricardo, is from El Salvador and her mom, Jenny, was from Nicaragua. At the age of nine, Mary Lou and her parents moved to a Hispanic Church in Antioch, California. Templo Santo was her home church and sent her to Eugene Bible College, where she graduated in 2009. Since then, she has been in ministry, never losing her heritage and always having a heart for her people. She speaks, writes, and reads in Spanish. She is grateful that her parents taught her to hold tight to her heritage, never forgetting where she came from or where God is taking her.
