Category Archives: Life’s disappointments

Shaken Up

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What would it be like to live through a tornado? In checking on Joplin, Missouri today, I listened to several testimonies on the internet. As one man told his story, lightning sparked in the background, and he flinched. Fear still lingered.

A doctor in scrubs, standing in front of the destroyed hospital, wiped a tear and said, “Everybody in town is going to personally know someone who’s died in this tornado.”

But saddest of all was the man stopped by a reporter as he picked through the pile of boards that had been his home. The reporter asked, “Have you been able to find everyone?”

The man held up both hands and said, “I just need gloves. I can’t find gloves. How can I dig without gloves?”

Sunday’s storm produced the deadliest single tornado in US weather history, flattening 30% of a town with 50,000 people. One man who’d lived in Joplin all his life said he had to use his GPS to figure out where he was. It located him on Main Street, but there’d been no way to tell.

How does a person endure total devastation and come out on the other side?

First, citizens band together in ways that never would happen without catastrophe. Strangers become friends, and disparities evaporate. Those of different ages, incomes, race and rank join together with a single theme: how can I help you? Willing workers from nearby towns and distant cities pour in by the hundreds to do what needs doing, and by this, victims find the courage to go on.

One seasoned rescue worker described a common response of those returning to the splintered piles that used to be their homes. “They come looking for practical things, glasses, keys, personal papers, photos. It’s a healthy sign that they’re going to make it.”

Secondly, God arrives in special ways. Because he’s in the rescue business with an emphasis on souls, he’s fully prepared for the crowds that will turn to him in desperation. His Word describes what can and can’t be shaken, and though Joplin has been badly shaken, the unshaken still remains: unfailing love, joy in being alive, peace amidst chaos, hope for the future.

And God has a full supply of those, able to meet even the biggest demand. He has already begun rebuilding lives in Joplin. He got there ahead of the Red Cross, FEMA and the governor. And when they and others have gone, he will remain.

As I watched news reports, one interviewer played a cell phone video recorded in a convenience store. As the tornado arrived, screaming intensified, people stumbling over each other. The store went dark, and everyone crowded into a food storage locker. As the tornado’s noise increased, it drowned out the screaming except for one voice, a simple prayer: “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!”

He was in the food locker, too, and after the terrifying two minutes were over, a shout went up: “Thank you Jesus!”

Not one person had been injured.

“All of creation will be shaken and removed, so that only unshakable things will remain.” (Heb. 12:27)

Check the numbers.

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Tonight my mind and heart are still at yesterday’s memorial service for Jim Rabb, the 32 year old son of good friends. Though hundreds assembled to honor his memory and encourage his brokenhearted family, the event was sorrowful.

As we waited for the service to begin, I studied the program and noticed we’d be hearing from both of Jim’s parents. His mom and I grew up together at Moody Church, and once we’d married and had families of our own, we spent summers in Michigan cottages a block apart.

Jim’s father, John, shared valiantly and effectively about the strong relationship he had with his son, but because I’m a mother like my friend Lois, I longed to know what she was thinking. Speaking at this emotionally-packed occasion would be a burdensome task, and I admired her willingness to stand in front of a microphone at all.

Lois did a beautiful job, and her words held power. She talked warmly about her son, describing daily phone chats and frequent affirmation of their love for each other, from the time he was a little boy.

Then she told a story about her favorite Scripture verse, Romans 8:28. “We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” Through the years, the Lord has sent what she called “little hugs” through those biblical reference numbers, again and again.

For example, on New Year’s Day this year, she was luxuriating in a morning when she didn’t have to set her alarm or get up early. As she lay in bed talking to the Lord in the first moments of a new year, she turned to see what time it was. Her bedside clock said, “8:28”, a little hug from God to start off well.

Five months later, after having just heard the devastating news of her only son’s sudden death, she looked again at a clock. At that critical moment, it said, “8:28”. As her heart was racing double-time and her head pounding with an impossible reality, God gave her a firm hug and said, “Lois, you can’t see it now, but my purposes in all this are positive and far-reaching. Everything is going to turn out well.”

A mother who’s able to stand and speak to hundreds at her own child’s memorial service could only do it because God was already making good on his 8:28 promise to her.

Tonight, just before I sat down to write this post, I went to the kitchen for some iced tea. As my mind flooded with thoughts of Jim and his family, I glanced at my oven clock.

It said 8:28.

 

 

 

 
“When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider this: God has made the one as well as the other.” (Ecclesiastes 7:14)

Being Prepared

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Although I’ve never been a champion at preparation, Nate was. It’s one of myriad qualities I admired about him when we first met and is a perfect illustration of opposites attracting. For 40 years his example tutored me in how to get ready for things (which is not to say I was a quick study).

Life offers unnumbered commitments for which we ought to be prepared: the first day of school, meeting an airplane, tax day, having enough gas to get to our destination. When these predictables take us by surprise, a finger can usually be pointed at the faulty party.

But sometimes we come up short on preparation because we didn’t have a clue something was coming: a premature baby, a tornado, a traffic accident, a cancer diagnosis.

And then there’s the big one, death. Even in the case of long-term illness, when death snatches a loved one, none of us are fully prepared.

Tomorrow I’ll attend the memorial service of a 32 year old young man who died suddenly, without explanation. To be prepared for that was impossible.

Although this man’s parents stood in front of a church and dedicated him to God when he was a baby, that didn’t feel like preparation for death. When they let him go off to school “on his own” each morning, that separation was nothing compared to the separation of death.

When they prayed for him, asking God’s will to be done in his life, they were opening themselves up to whatever God chose to bring. But death? They weren’t thinking of that.

It’s an encouragement to know God sees what’s coming when we don’t. Just as parents paint the nursery before the baby arrives and load the back pack before the first school day, God the Father gently moves the pieces of our lives into position before the unexpected hits us. Within the tumult, we can’t see it. But later, usually much later, we look back and say, “Oh, that was him there… and again there.”

Our family found this to be true. Several months after Nate died, my kids and I actually drew up a list of God’s “positionings” among us before the whirlwind arrived.

Getting a glimpse of this divine preparation on our behalf doesn’t lessen anyone’s sadness while going through it, but it softens the raw reality. And when we turn around to search for God, we see how he was there throughout, and can’t help but feel his love because of it.

“Father, prepare me for whatever is next.”

“Those who cleanse themselves… will be instruments for special purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.” (2 Timothy 2:21)