Mar 2015
This is a devotion I wrote in January of 2013. It is about finding faith in the darkest of places.
I have grown in my
faith over the years. But this past
winter I had a true challenge to my faith, and that is what I am going to talk
to you about today.
When I came to Road Church I believed in … a “higher power.” Not the God of Abraham, just a “spirit”. I thought people who spoke of Jesus were all
Bible Thumpers, and people who believed in Satan must be planning to drown
their babies in the bathtub. But I was
driving my Grandpa to church, so I kept coming back, and after a while I started
reading the Bible. There were so many
wonderful people who influenced me then.
I became a Christian at Road Church on a regular Sunday morning. Until then I had thought Being Saved was something that only happened to
Southern Baptists. But as the tears
rolled down my face singing the lyrics, “Oh what a wonder that Jesus loves me,
Jesus loves even me,” I truly was saved. After that I was pretty happy. I
was becoming more and more familiar with the Bible. I even started studying the lay
ministry. I spoke here a few times. I joined committees, I homeschooled, I did
everything right. Right? So I was completely shaken last February when
the Lord challenged me in a new way.
It started out a busy morning.
Kurt was getting ready for work, Nathan was getting ready for school,
and Charlotte and I were getting ready to head to a regional Christian
Debate. Things were hectic, but we were
pretty much on time as I climbed into the car.
Then I got a text. The text was
from my neighbor asking me to pick up her son after skiing that evening. Skiing?
OH NO, I’d forgotten it was Nathan’s day to go snowboarding. I ran into the house and begged Kurt to
help. He calmly told me to just go, and
that he would gather the stuff and drop it off at the rec center. Several phone calls passed between us, and
then he had everything and off he went.
Thus, Kurt was about fifteen minutes later than his regular time as he
headed down the highway to New Haven that day.
Suddenly, about two hundred yards ahead of him, he watched as the car traveling
at about 70 mph hit a tractor trailer that was parked on
the left shoulder. The car spun around
in front of Kurt and crashed into the guard rail facing him. Kurt flipped on his emergency lights and came
to a stop next to the accident. What he
saw as he pulled up was the driver’s side roof was missing from the car, and so was the
driver. Kurt got out and started
looking. He found that the man was
trapped under his vehicle. With the help
of two other men who had stopped, they pulled the man out. Remarkably, the man only had a broken knee
cap. Kurt wrapped him in a shock blanket
he carries, and called the man’s wife.
He stayed with him until the ambulance arrived, and then headed to work.
Meanwhile, I had my phone on mute because I was judging debates. So I never found out about all of this until
about three in the afternoon. What was
my first reaction? Pride. What an amazing husband I have. And wow, here I have been feeling so
embarrassed about my absent mind, but it turned out so well. I posted on Facebook that the Lord had used
my forgetfulness to do good work. I
immediately had about 57 likes and dozens of comments about how the Lord is
never late, the Lord always has perfect timing, etc., I went to bed full of
pride.
When my alarm went off at the still dark hour of 5am, I heard a
resounding question in my brain. As I
struggled to wake, I realized it was the Lord. The message was clear: Would you have still thanked me for using
your absent mind if your husband had died in that accident?
Well I just about threw up. I
sputtered practically outloud into my dark room: NO! I would have blamed myself. Oh it would have been awful. The kids would have blamed me. Our families would have blamed me. Oh it would have been just terrible. Thank you thank you for the way it turned
out.
Silence.
As I started my morning walk, I realized why the silence. God was challenging me. He was showing me my weakness in faith. He was reminding me that I am supposed to be joyful
in all circumstances. But I can’t
Lord. I just know, I can’t. I can’t lie and say I would still thank you
for your perfect timing. I can’t pretend that I would be joyful. I can’t imagine JOY at all in that
circumstance.
And so began a journey. I
prayed, I read The Bible, I spoke to friends.
Even as I returned to the Good Book again and again knowing I was supposed
to be content in all circumstances, knowing what I was expected to promise the
Lord, I kept coming up empty. I mean
truly empty. It is said that there are no atheists in a fox hole. But at that moment, I wondered, would I be a believer in one? I felt like I was letting
down God, letting down myself, letting down everyone who knows I am a
Christian. I became sad. I felt like a poser in church. I felt so
incapable of leading anyone spiritually.
For God was calling me, and I was not answering the call. I was saying, no, I am too weak.
Then one day on a regular Sunday, I observed a woman from church
here. She is someone who I consider to
have been through the worst things life can deal out. She lost a daughter to cancer after a long battle. But as I sat here in my pew, she carried out
a regular church duty. I saw a beautiful
smile on her face. I saw her shoulders
rise and fall and her head bob as she sang a hymn earnestly.
And finally the silence ended, as I clearly felt God’s hand on my
shoulder and heard, “Look to your examples.”
And I took a peak around the room.
I realized what a treasure I have in my congregation, and in my fellow Chrsitian friends around the world. You’ve already been through all my worst
fears. You have lost your parents, your
siblings, your friends, your spouses, and … your children. What I cannot comprehend you have already
endured. Oh I don’t pretend to know your
hearts. I don’t know who among you is
angry with the Lord and who has made peace.
But I know that each Sunday you show up.
You pray, you sing, you serve.
And somehow that knowledge was a breath of air to my faith.
In the book, The Apostle, the story of the life of Paul is further
explained. It includes the wonderful
story of Paul and Silas singing in chains: "The men had been flogged. They
were in a state of physical shock, muscles stiff, unable to rest on their torn
backs, and forced to lie in their own excrement. The possibility of more torture and death was
very real. Paul and Silas started to
pray. Their prayer turned to praise, and
soon they were singing, 'At the name of Jesus, Every knee should bow, In
heaven, on earth, under the earth. And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ
is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.' The witnesses saw that these poor wretched men were singing for
joy. Happiness and hope flooded the
prison."
This year, on the anniversary of the Newtown Shootings, Betsy Shaw, a
mom of a first grade Sandy Hook shooting victim, said in a blog, “It has not
been an easy journey, but I have learned so much about being patient with
myself. There have been times where I
felt I had to hold on to the dark things, but Emily’s life was about color and
joy, not about pain and suffering. Evil
didn’t win that day; we will carry on that love she had. What I’ve realized through all of this is how
strong and how big God’s love really is.”
I think if Betsy Shaw, coming through such an unspeakable tragedy, can
profess this, I certainly can hope. When
life’s sad heartbreaks happen to me, I might not be joyful about it as it
happens. But I can show up. I can pray.
I can sing the hymns I love and turn my prayer to praise. Maybe I won’t be joyful at first, but I can
be thankful. I can be thankful to the
Lord for the gift of family, friends, and faith. And I can trust in the hope that a thankful
heart can feel joy again.
