My husband, Robert and I, both natural introverts, would always place ourselves in the back of the front-middle section, in a space where we were engaged during church but didn’t really draw attention to ourselves. We sat behind the same couple for two years (the wife had unmistakable beautiful long red hair). We did not know them, but as natural introverts themselves, we became acquainted by the mere fact that we were doing the same safe thing – sitting in the same seats, week after week. When it came time for the morning greeting, we would say good morning, each of us smirking. We didn’t know each other’s names, but we were seat mates. In the spring of 2019, Robert and I were invited to pilot a community group hosted by our dear friends, Jenn and Rich Searing. Our group would consist of six couples, all with children in the same age ranges. It couldn’t have come at a better time. I was in the throes of learning how to be a stay-at-home mom and a more attentive wife. I overcommitted myself outside of our home, volunteering in classrooms and on sports teams. I was deeply desiring to hear the Lord’s voice more clearly and learning how to exercise my ‘no.’ I was excited that we would be able to engage as a couple with friends and fellow Hillsiders, growing deeper in our faith together. Everything about our group felt like such a perfect fit.

The couple we had sat behind for two years – TWO YEARS – and we just learned their names. It became increasingly front of mind. So, on a Sunday morning as we sat behind them, I began to feel nervous. Not asking at this point felt disobedient.I worked out a compromise with God: if they were easy to approach after service, I would ask. (I know what you’re thinking – who does she think she is? Compromising with God? But if you’re a natural introvert, you understand. There’s an awkwardness that comes with this scenario.) 

As we exited the Worship Center, mixed in amongst the crowds of people and directly in front us, were Jessa and Adam. I kept my end of the bargain, and boldly went up to them and asked. Jessa said, “Yes, we have been wanting to join a group!” 

So, in September 2019, we began our second season of community group with our two new members. They were younger than the rest of the group, they did not have children, and they were commuting from Orange County each week to attend. It felt mismatched initially, but what we did not know then, yet eventually would come to see, was tangible evidence of God’s intentionality, faithfulness, holiness, and love… None of which we questioned, but what we have witnessed since that moment. For just a few months later, in January 2020, Adam was diagnosed with testicular cancer.As a community, we rallied around Jessa and Adam. We felt so incredibly honored that God had trusted us with this time in their lives – to pray for and with them, to support them in any way we could, to be their community.

And then, as the pandemic started to bleed into everyone’s lives, Robert and I found ourselves surprised to be pregnant with our third baby. Shortly after, Jessa shared with me their fertility struggles. They were taking steps to ensure that they would still be able to seek treatment after Adams’ cancer battle. 

In June 2020, they did just that. Jessa and Adam went through the long and gut-wrenching process of IVF. So many layers to this journey, both for Jessa and the women in our group, as Jessa faced losses amongst friends who all had children. We shared guilt, devastation and deep sadness. God really filled in the spaces and bridged gaps that words could not fill. Sometimes just continuing to meet felt like all that could be done. 

In the fall of 2020, our sweet surprise, Jude, was born and became the baby of our group. We continued to meet season after season. We did bible studies together and a season of Re-Engage. We grew and evolved as a community; we began to serve alongside one another and do life together, gathering for more than just our group meetings. Our kids played on sports teams together, started school together, and attended church together. God was doing work, in and through our group.Then in December 2021, almost exactly two years after Adam’s cancer diagnosis, my husband, Robert, was diagnosed with appendix cancer. 

Jessa and Adam were now coming alongside us – sharing specifics of their experience with cancer, dropping off baskets of Adam’s favorite products during chemo, sending Knots of Love beanies, and serving our family. More and more it was so evident of God’s intention in making us seat mates all those years before and why He had deeply woven our stories together. 

Once again, our community rallied. They were our people to the truest sense. It will take an entire other blog post to share how our community supported us during this time, and even then, there will never be enough time or space to express the magnitude of love and support shown to us, both then and now.On September 7, 2023, Robert went to be with Jesus. God’s hand in it all was so clear. The relationships forged and hardships weathered together; a family created through community; the holiness and faithfulness of the Lord – never leaving, never forsaking. Enduring. Step-by-step, preparing. 

March 26 was Robert’s birthday. 

The seat mates we had sat behind for two years without knowing their names, the ones we obediently invited into community, who we walked through testicular cancer with, journeyed alongside IVF with, whom supported us through appendix cancer and stood with me and my children as we celebrated my husband’s life… brought their miracle baby into the world 42 years to the day after Robert was born. 

Only God. 

Thank you, Lord. 

By: Jenn Pedraza