Now Faith is the Substance of Things Hoped For

(Wrote this for work; thought I'd share.)

I’m sure everyone has an uncle like mine in their family. You know, the one uncle, usually with a beer in hand, who’s the loudest person in the room? He doesn’t try to be funny, it’s just that all his stories happen to be hilarious.


When I was leaving Detroit to head to Rochester, I had a going away party. I wasn’t going to have it unless Uncle Brent was there. He manned the barbecue grill, and the comedy - as usual. I look at how laidback my dad is overall and can’t believe he grew up in the same house as nutty Uncle Brent.

But as I write this, Uncle Brent is in the hospital. Dad called last night asking that I include his little brother in my prayers. His kidneys are failing, his blood sugar is too low, and he’s lost sight in one of his eyes. For those who don’t know how serious it is, diabetes is a debilitating disease. And it runs in my family. The only memory I have of my great-grandmother is she had no legs due to the illness, and my grandfather had one of his legs amputated shortly before he died. My father has had diabetes since he was a senior in high school. I knew Uncle Brent was borderline diabetic, and as he’s gradually slimmed down into a smaller version of himself, I guess he fully crossed that border.

I’m reminded of a blog post I read recently by a young professional about making time in our busy lives for the people we love. My mother always said, “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.” (I hate when she’s right!) As grateful as I am to have a job, if I could be anywhere in the world right now, it’d be in that hospital room, near Uncle Brent’s bed. The beer can would be missing from his hand, but I know he’d still have me laughing.