Worship with Hope and Trust

“What would you do if it was you, doctor?”
“Look. If you’re up for holding off the inevitable, you’ll just need to be okay with bloodwork and appointments every three months, potential difficulties with managing your medication dosages, plus annual ultrasounds and biopsies. But you’re young, and this problem isn’t going to go away. So, if it was me, I’d go ahead and have the surgery.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what I expected. What are the possible risks other than the basic things that come along with any surgical procedure?”

“Let’s go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Tell us a little bit about yourself and your family.”

While this introductory question was fitting given the project we were about to discuss, my heart sank just a bit when I heard it. As the people around the table shared, it became clear: My answer was going to be different. While the others spoke of their spouse, shared the names and ages of their children, I mentioned my parents, my siblings and their spouses, and my nieces and nephews. It wasn’t the answer anyone was expecting—the question was asked because it was, even subconsciously, assumed that everyone around the table had a spouse and children to talk about. The people around the table shared a faith, but the assumption underlying the question, and the not-quite-sure-what-to-say response to my differing answer, made me wonder, and not for the first time, if the Christian definition of “family” can be too small.