My parents welcoming Jake after he miraculously survived his mother’s cancer.

Last year, I spent Father’s Day in a hospital holding our daughter Serenity’s hand while she recovered from surgery to remove a portion of her lung. The surgeon hoped to eradicate the pesky specks of cancer that kept popping up. Serenity hoped to survive the “very rare” complications that followed surgery.

Two weeks later, I moved into an ICU waiting room in a different city to keep vigil over my mother, who became so ill we started making plans for nursing home care. And the nursing home started looking like a best-case scenario as the hours wore on.

Fast-forward to Father’s Day Weekend 2015

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with Serenity at the ballpark watching her miracle-baby hold down left field with nine-year-old zeal. We ate lunch around the table with all four of the amazing men in her life, and then we looked at the floor plans for the new house they are getting ready to build. All specs of cancer or currently eradicated, thank you very much.

Today, I visited my parents in their comfy apartment – which is not a nursing home. My mother and I had one of those conversations our family refers to as “solving all the problems of the world” while my dad told stories from his childhood. Then, we all ate ice cream sandwiches for supper. Because, we are adults, and we can do that.

Before I left, my mother logged onto her computer and asked me a couple of questions about her Facebook account and about the blogs she follows.

It was a good day.

Your weekend might not have been so fun. Maybe you are in the intensive care season of life right now. If so, I can promise the Holy Spirit has the power to carry you through. (That’s a longer conversation. Email me if you want to talk about it.)

I’ve also lived long enough to know a season can change in an instant. For better or for worse. So I’m not taking this lovely weekend for granted. I’m simply grateful for this one, good day.

And, tomorrow? Well, I’ll try to trust Jesus with that.