The terrible storm raged for many days, blotting out the sun and the stars, until at last all hope was gone. [Acts 27:20 (NLT)]
“Lord, help!” they cried in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He calmed the storm to a whisper and stilled the waves. What a blessing was that stillness as he brought them safely into harbor! [Psalm 107:28-30 (NLT)]
While walking this morning, I could see the toll last night’s hail storm took on the wildflowers. Many that yesterday stood tall and proud over the prairie were now bent and broken. These defeated looking plants made me think of a friend and the storm that overwhelmed and nearly defeated him.
Raised in a Christian home and once a believer, he lost his faith in a loving God years ago when a series of medical errors left his child with severe brain damage. Angry at God and then disillusioned by the hypocrisy he saw in his church, he decided to worship the god of achievement and wealth. All went well for him until one day it didn’t. The storm hit when the multi-national corporation for which he worked closed its doors. In spite of his stellar resume, nearly two years passed without employment. When the economy tanked, so did his investments and his savings dwindled to nothing. Upside down with his mortgage, his god of success and prosperity was nowhere to be found. It was at that point that this once proud man literally fell to his knees and humbly admitted his defeat and nothingness to God. He wanted to believe but needed to know that God really was there. He didn’t ask for relief; he asked for reassurance of God’s presence. “Show me that you exist, that you care, that you are good!” was his simple prayer.
Most of those drooping wildflowers along the trail will again stand tall when the sun shines. Like those flowers, my friend was raised up when he turned to God and allowed the Son back into his life. Within a day of his prayer, he received a call from a struggling Christian-based non-profit and, within a week, he’d started working there as the CEO. Several years have passed and he is happier and more content than he was in his previous life. Because of his business acumen, the organization he serves is now thriving and people’s lives are being changed in incredible ways. His child is still disabled and his standard of living is not what it was before the storm, but he lives joyfully in the knowledge of a loving and good God—a God who can still storms and lift a drowning man out of the sea.
A hail storm can knock down flowers and, sometimes, God knocks us to our knees with a storm of troubles. It’s when we’re on our knees, however, that the only place to look is up! When we ask God to reveal Himself to us, we shouldn’t expect Him to do it with a job or financial support. After all, God only promises relief from all of our troubles in the next world. In this life, we will be relieved only from some of them; other troubles He will enable us to endure. Nevertheless, when we humbly and sincerely ask God to reveal himself to us, He will.
If God seems far away, who moved? [AA slogan]
Although we do our best to maintain our cars by getting new tires, touching up the paint, repairing dented fenders, and changing the oil, eventually we want a new one. How would we respond to an ad that said we could turn in the old car (no matter how battered or worn) and get a brand new one, absolutely free? Of course, there’s some fine print at the bottom of the ad. We won’t hold title to the car; it will belong to the manufacturer. Moreover, if we accept the new car, we don’t get to pick the model or accessories and we have to let the manufacturer decide how fast we drive, where we go and how we get there, where to park, what neighborhoods we travel through, how bumpy the ride will be, and when we arrive at our final destination. In full disclosure, there’s even mention that, while the ride will be quite an adventure, we’ll probably end up with some scratches and dents along the way. Would we make the deal?
There is an old parable about a small sparrow, lying flat on his back in the middle of the road with his little feet raised in the air. An elephant comes by and asks him what he is doing. “I’m holding up the sky,” is the small bird’s response. ”Hah,” scoffs the elephant, “What good can you possibly do with those skinny weak legs?” The tiny bird replies, “Well, one does what one can. One does what one can!”
The “Last Lecture,” a tradition at many universities, is given by a professor as if it is the last one delivered in the speaker’s lifetime. Hoping to inspire the audience to become better versions of themselves, the lecturer usually reflects on his life’s journey and shares his hard-earned wisdom. New meaning was given to this tradition in 2007 when Randy Pausch, a professor at Carnegie Mellon University, gave what truly was his last lecture. Terminally ill with pancreatic cancer, he was dead less than a year after giving it.
I have a friend who worries. Her husband says that even when she has nothing about which to worry, she worries about whatever next could go wrong long before it possibly can. He added that having a “designated worrier” has made his life much easier—while she worries, he can relax and enjoy himself! His comment made me remember a trip we took to the Cayman Islands nearly forty years ago. We were accompanied by a worrying friend.
“A Christian doesn’t die,” declared the pastor, which may have been news to some of those attending the Celebration of Life. “He just moves!” the minister added as an explanation. Indeed, we are just temporary residents here on earth. Death for a Christian is simply a relocation and, unlike most moves we’ve made, it doesn’t require a purging of the items in the attic, garage sales, packing up boxes, or wrangling friends into helping us carry the heavy stuff! This is one transfer that neither requires moving vans nor mail forwarding.
Devotions of the Heart 