Dr. Kuhlman stood with nine Eucharistic ministers preparing to serve communion at the 9 a.m. Mass. Devoted to serving St. Isaac Joques Church, he chose a ministry that made his heart pump faster. He grasped the communion wafer and placed it carefully in the hands of those who approached. “The body of Christ. The body of Christ. The body of Christ.” After communion, he returned to the front pew. He sat alone.
Geoffrey was not a religious child. How could he, being reared in an agnostic family. His dad was Catholic; his mother and younger brother were not. After his father died, Geoff was seven and too young to make any demands on his religious upbringing. His uncle could have raised him Catholic, but the distance between them made it difficult. “I don’t have anger toward my parents because they didn’t go to church, send me to Bible camp or tell me stories about Jesus at Christmas. I didn’t know what I was missing.”
Geoffrey believes that Jesus had a plan for him. In high school and college, he dated Catholic girls. “God was dropping a few hints, I think.” Curious about Jesus, God the Father and the Holy Spirit, he listened to religious conversations. At Loyola Medical School—run by the Jesuits—he met students, nurses, doctors and professors filled with faith. “How could people with science backgrounds believe in God?” he asked.
Donna sat on the opposite side of the church. Her golden hair streamed over the black shirt she wore at the 9:30 AM service. “Yes, I’ll tell my story about me and Jesus. Let’s do breakfast after Mass.”
It was an October night, and I was supposed to be asleep. As a 7-year old, I was excited to see my grandparents, who were in from Michigan. They were using my room, so I had to sleep on the floor in my brother’s room. I could hear unfamiliar voices and lots of movement in the hall and my parents’ bedroom. I knew something was wrong but didn’t realize what exactly or how it would change my life forever.Mom was 32 years old when she was diagnosed with leukemia and also pregnant with my brother. My grandparents were there to be with her and say goodbye. I had absolutely no idea her life was ending. When my parents were told their options, my dad wanted her to do whatever it took to survive, even if it meant losing the baby. She was unwilling—selfless. She decided on the least evasive treatments, even though her outcome could be devastating. There was no guarantee that she would survive. She could lose the baby, or he could be born with birth defects. She told my father that the baby could have multiple heads and she would love him.
Mike and I met at his favorite breakfast hangout. After thanking the Lord, we ate large chunks of melon and pineapple, scrambled eggs and wheat toast, and we sipped four cups of decaf. Watching Mike with the pepper shaker, I knew he was the seasoning I needed for this delicious story. What looked like a reserved man on the outside was jalapeno peppers on the inside.
