T WAS THE FALL OF 1993. THE TORONTO Blue Jays were finally in the World Series. I was seven and a half months pregnant and should have been on bed rest. And I was lying down, so to speak. But I got so caught up in the game that I couldn't lie still. I found myself praying. "Please, God, Toronto could do with a win like this. Times are rough, and we are just coming out of a recession. A Blue Jays win would give everyone something to celebrate." So I prayed for a win.

As the camera scanned the ballpark spectators I saw one diehard Philadelphia fan with head bowed. Was he praying as well? That gave me pause. Only one team would emerge as an "answer to prayer"-either Toronto or Philadelphia. Does God pay attention to prayers about baseball wins?

I had to do a really important presentation at work regarding an imminent and major reorganization of our office. Staff members were understandably leery. Even though I'm an OK public speaker, my favorite place to be is not in front of an audience. Telling staff that we needed to make significant changes to our ways of doing things did not make my presentation any easier. Needless to say, I had a bad case of nerves. Dry mouth, heart palpitations, wishing for the floor to open up-stuff like that was happening to me. Desperately I whispered a prayer, "Please, God, give me calm. I can't do this without You." Then I stood up with my heart fluttering wildly in my chest, and opened my mouth. The voice that came out was so calm and assured, I almost stopped talking from the wonder of it. I know for a fact that I can take no credit for my calm that day. It was God who gave me the mood I needed. Thanks to You, Lord, but why did You answer this prayer?

e had just retired for the night. Actually, my daughter had just asked for and received a glass of water and was in our bedroom, trying a 4-year-old's tricks to postpone a long-overdue bedtime. It was then that we heard the splintering crash. It sounded as if someone had thrown a rock through succeeding panes of glass.

Stealthily we unfroze our feet and tiptoed to the kitchen area, from which the sound had come. The scene before our eyes was too fantastic for words. Our kitchen cupboard containing all our glassware and breakables had fallen completely out of the wall and was resting askew on the breakfast table. My daughter had just been sitting on the spot where it had fallen. Almost everything in the cupboard was broken into smithereens. This could have been a great tragedy, yet our family was spared. Thank YOU, Lord! But why did You spare our family?

I popped opened the trunk of the car to retrieve a bag of groceries. The kids were still in the back seat undoing their seatbelts and gathering up their stuff. Picking up the bag, I was in the process of closing the trunk when, halfway down, something stopped my hand. I looked around and was shocked to see my son reaching for his soccer ball. The trunk door was headed straight for his neck. The close call turned my legs to jelly and my voice hysterical as I yelled at the poor child. I had to go sit down on the front steps to calm myself while I gave him a hug and apologized for yelling. Why again was I spared that pain? Could it be that I was not ready to bear it? Did I have some more growing to do?

spend most of my days now watching my mother. Watching her holding her head and moaning. "Does it hurt, Mom?" " No, it doesn't hurt. I just feel like I have 12 heads, and it's all crowded inside." This is a good day. Today, at least, she can communicate with me. Many days I repeat myself till I am ready to scream. Some days I wish for her death to come and to be quick about it. Other days the old Mom comes to visit, and it's just like old times-really good times. I am watching as Alzheimer's ravages her brain, erasing her memories bit by painful bit. One day my name will come up in the memory banks for deletion. All our past will be lost. So I watch her and talk to God and learn about sorrow and patience and living in the present and leaning on the everlasting arms.

Why troubles sometimes and protection other times? Why pain sometimes and exquisite joy other times? Why does He provide a way of escape at times and leave shut the exit doors at other times? Does God keep a hedge around us? Why does He sometimes remove the hedge? Why does He sometimes reinforce the hedge and protect us? What is God up to? Why me? Why you? Why not you? Why not me? Why now? Why not now?

I know that most days I walk around cocky as ever-taking for granted my daily gift of life. I go to sleep and talk of tomorrow as if it is guaranteed because I will it to be so. I wake up each day in fairly sound mind after six to eight hours of unconsciousness, collect my thoughts, and am on my way. I sometimes assume that my safe drive to work and back is the result of my good driving habits. Yet I know that there are many moments in any given day when God has to step in to protect. Moments that I don't even know about. I don't stop often enough to ask: "Why me, Lord? Why have You chosen to give me another day, when yesterday was the last for that mother of two? You have given me one more day to know You. To experience Your grace! To be with my loved ones! To forgive! To give thanks! One more Sabbath in Your house! Why, Lord? Why? Why? Why?"

To some of my "why" questions I can see the answers in hindsight. To some I will never know the answers-not here. That's why I plan to spend a big chunk of eternity following God around like a shadow. I am confident that I'll understand it better by and by. Then, with the coming of understanding, I will spend the remaining chunk of eternity occasionally planet-hopping, but mostly basking in His presence and singing glory and honor and blessing and thanks to Him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb.

For now I continue to wonder and question why. I don't have all the answers.

"But 'I know whom I have believed, And am persuaded that He is able To keep that which I've committed Unto Him against that day.'"*

*"I Know Whom I Have Believed," The Seventh-day Adventist Hymnal, No. 511.

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Yvonne Rodney resides in Toronto with her husband, Dennis, and her children, Jeremy and Jessica.