I’m a mother, a wife, a college professor. I also have incurable Stage IV cancer
I HAD HOPED THAT GOD AND I HAD A deal. I’d grown up in southern Man-itoba province, Canada, surrounded by enough Mennonites to learn how to compliment tractor equipment and make a decent loaf of bread. I’d lucked into loving, faithful parents and a loving, faithful church. I’d even fallen in love with a boy at Bible camp and, to my great surprise, found he loved me back. Faith and happiness were intertwined. That was the deal. Work hard, stay right with God and life would work out somehow.
So often, with the right combination of hard work and hope, I found my life coming together. Toban—that boy from Bible camp—and I got married after college. I earned a master’s degree in the history of religion at Yale Divinity School and a Ph.D. at Duke University. Duke hired me as a professor straight out of grad school, a rarity in academia, where graduate students now worry that they might have a better chance of making a moon landing than finding a job. I had endured dark seasons of infertility and disability but, at last, was living the life I had hoped for. Toban and I had a precocious and hilarious son, Zach. I published my first book—a study of the prosperity gospel movement, detailing the history of Christian beliefs about how good things must happen to good people.
A central tenet of the prosperity gospel is that health and wealth are signs of God’s favor. The stronger your faith, the more God rewards you. Theologically speaking, I never thought I had much in common with the movement. But I couldn’t help concluding that God seemed to be rather pleased with my efforts. I was working hard and reaping the rewards. God was holding up his end of our implicit deal.
This story is from the September 2018 edition of Guideposts.
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This story is from the September 2018 edition of Guideposts.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 8,500+ magazines and newspapers.
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