“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”. Jeremiah 29:11

We were at the beach, just chatting away and catching up on life when I saw it.  A thin line a few inches wide.  Just under her right rib.  For a few seconds, it was a scar that took my breath away.

I jokingly asked her how she got that scar and her husband jokingly reminded me that I have a matching one – just in a different spot.

You see, our scars were created on the same day.  Hers was a scar of choice.  Mine was a scar of need. 

Eight years and three months ago, my friend Cathy gave me a precious gift.  She gave me a part of herself – a kidney.  Her right kidney, to be exact.   

Over eight years ago, we traveled up to Richmond for our transplant and arrived at the hospital super early in the morning.  We were the first transplant of the day.  We checked in and got our hospital bracelets on.  Then, with our husbands by our sides, we waited in the waiting room. 

My mind was twirling with thoughts, but none of them fearful ones.  To me this day felt like my wedding day.  Excitement mixed with nervousness but knowing, without a doubt, that my life would never ever be the same. 

When they called Cathy’s name so she could go back to be prepped, she squealed, jumped out of her chair, and ran to the nurse.  It was like watching an episode of The Price Is Right. 

I turned to my husband and said, “Who does that?”.  “Cathy does”, he said. 

Cathy had told me, early in the transplant process, that she knew that God had chosen her to be my kidney donor.  “Who does that?”, I thought.  Cathy does.

You see, her walk with the Lord was so close that when He told her to do something, she knew what to do.  Even when it meant suffering physically so that my life could improve, she jumped right in. 

What we didn’t know was that the whole transplant experience would draw both of us closer to the Lord and closer to each other.  We lovingly call each other “Kidney sister” – now just shortened to “Sister”. 

During Cathy’s recuperation from the transplant, her mom was able to travel to the East Coast to take care of her.  Later that fall, her mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer and died the next spring.  Neither of them could have guessed that the quality time they had together after the transplant would be their last chance to do so.  If Cathy had not been obedient to the Lord’s leading, she would not have had that time with her mom. 

Who knew what that memory of her mom would mean to her?  God did.  Who knew that Cathy, a former neighbor, would be my kidney donor?  God did. 

Thank you, Lord, for your work in my life and Cathy’s life.  Your blessings are abundant and beyond what I can imagine.  Thank you for working in our lives and giving us a hope and a future. 

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