I traveled to Maui with my family for a well-deserved vacation. I rented a Harley motorcycle, and the rest of the family rode in an open-top jeep to tour the countryside. It was one of the perfect days in the history of perfect days on Maui. The sky and the ocean seemed to share the same color and blended together as they met at the horizon. We pulled over for a quick fuel break at a convenience station by a bay. I sat on my rented Harley looking out over the majestic scenery while waiting for my family to reconvene. Boats, ships, and parasailers dotted the horizon, creating a perfect panoramic picture. Then a voice, feeling, or something inner said," You have cancer." I didn't say anything; I just started up the Harley and followed my family in their rented jeep. The feeling felt totally out of place, given my position in paradise. When we got home, I told My wife I should see a doctor for a checkup. I immediately received one of those "wife looks” every husband has experienced. After all, my wife worked at the Mayo Clinic; they had about 3,000 doctors. Undoubtedly one of them would take some time to see me. It had been nearly twenty years since I had a physical exam; perhaps that's why my wife seemed so set back at my request. I had all my lab work done before my doctor's visit. When I met with my doctor for the first time, he looked at the lab results, smiled, and told me that the results were “uneventful.” Uneventful was a medical term that seemed in vogue for "No worries." The doctor no sooner shared the good news with me when his phone rang. It was the Department of Urology. They wanted me to have some more tests. A heated exchange between my kind physician and the urology department ensued. My doctor covered the mouthpiece on his phone with his hand and invited me to step out while he finished the conversation. I had not been to the doctor for a while, but I was reasonably confident that an open argument between your doctor and Urology was never good. The doctor invited me back into his office and told me that urology wanted me to have more tests. He said his nurse would set them up for me. Several days after my follow-up tests, I stopped in my office, and my phone rang. It was a nurse from the Mayo Clinic. The nurse told me I had kidney cancer. All of a sudden, I had a void in my soul. I wasn't afraid or worried, and I honestly didn't feel anything but an unexpected emptiness. My office was in Assisi Heights in Rochester, Minnesota. I shared space with about 200 Sisters of St. Francis of Assisi, who called Assisi Heights home. I practiced worshiping with them on Thursdays when I was in town. I was their "kind Methodist" with whom they shared some of their beautiful space. I believe the nonfeeling I felt at the news of my cancer was the movement of fear making way for faith. I wasn't afraid; I just was. I had the upper third of my right kidney removed and have been cancer-free for twenty years. The good sisters prayed for me before, during, and after my surgery. I received world-class medical care from the Mayo Clinic. I also was blessed with the best spiritual care 200 devout Sisters could offer. Spiritual companions are different from soul mates. Companions are present for a while to assist you in your spiritual life journey. God surrounded me with spiritual friends who supported me at a crucial time in my life. The medical procedure saved me; the spiritual support sustained me. A few years later, the good Sisters asked me to preach in the lovely sanctuary at Assisi Heights. It was Ecumenical Sunday, so they wanted their "Kind Methodists" to preach. My sermon was titled, "Sometimes it takes a lot of Catholics to make a Methodist." It was a rather lengthy sermon title, but the sisters loved my message. God is always present in times of trouble. Look for the spiritual companions that come to you as gifts from God. They are with you for a time to help you through life's struggles. Don't be surprised if you find yourself one of the spiritual companions sent to help others in their time of need. Don’t be surprised if God selects you to be a spiritual companion.