HEARTLIGHT(R) Magazine: Special Feature: Good Luck

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Good Luck!
by Richard Maffeo

Robert didn’t need to tell me he was frightened. I could tell the moment I walked into his hospital room and saw him staring at the ceiling. Fear had written itself across his face. Of course, he had good reason to be frightened. He may have suffered a small stroke, what the neurologist called a transient ischemic attack. Though his slurred speech and blurred vision had passed, was the passage only temporary? Would it recur? Would he be left permanently paralyzed, blind—or worse?
His physician had scheduled him for a cerebral angiogram to aid in the diagnosis. A long plastic catheter would be inserted into an artery in the groin and then threaded up toward his brain. The radiologist would then inject a special dye in order to outline the vessels on a monitor screen. Risks of the procedure included hemorrhage, nerve injury and sudden death. If the findings revealed blocked blood vessels feeding the brain, his career as a pilot would be over. It would also mean further medical treatment. Perhaps even surgery. Not a happy prospect for a 35 year old man.
As I completed some last minute nursing details before sending him downstairs for his exam, he turned to face me. “What do you think they'll find?” It was more a plea than a question, and a sense of compassion swept over me. It was easy to empathize with him. I am only a few years older than he.
“Lord, what do I say?” I breathed.
“Do you believe in God?” I asked, anticipating joining with him in request to God for healing, for wisdom for the physicians, for God’s guidance for the future. But I never got the chance to pray. Without hesitation he shook his head. "No,” he answered. "But I believe in luck.” I glanced at him for a moment, unsure if I had properly understood him.

"Do you believe in God?”
“No,” he answered. "But I believe in luck.”

“You believe in luck?” I tried not to sound incredulous. I debated with myself if I ought to press the issue, but decided it would prove fruitless at the moment. The orderly was already waiting outside the door. I finished my nursing chores and turned to leave. “Good luck,” I said as I left the room.
The angiogram proved negative and Robert survived the exam without much more than some mild discomfort. “Luck” was on his side…though I squirm at the term, knowing God’s grace is more the reality. But as often as I am drawn back to that incident, I find myself wondering at the Divine’s patience with… with… me.
It would be easy to miss the height and the depth of God’s love for me in this incident. The subtle, almost imperceptible temptation to play the Pharisee of Luke 18 is quite real. After all, I do not ascribe to “luck” the obvious hand of God. I know from whom my blessings flow.
Or do I?
Sometimes I shudder with embarrassment to realize how often I succumb to the temptation to ascribe my successes…my good “fortunes”…to a host of different sources other than the hand of God. My educational degrees, for example. Or my work skills. Or my innate talents. Or… or…
Who needs luck? I ask myself. I sometimes wonder if I am not really asking: Who needs God?
Encounters with people like Robert are good for me. They help to reveal my own dross. It’s not a joyous occasion when that happens, but it is a necessary part of the maturing process God uses to make me more like His Son. Meeting the Roberts of this world face to face, and seeing the kindness of God work in their lives, also gives me great comfort. For I know that He who makes it rain on the thankless, will also quench the thirst of my heart. He who touches when no touch is sought will certainly touch when it is.
“O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!” wrote the Apostle Paul. “How unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding out.” (Romans 11:33, KJV)
Yes, God uses the Roberts or my world from time to time to remind me how much He loves me. The question is: why do I ever forget?