Love and Logic teaches that we should allow our children to make choices from an early age. That way, they can experience the benefit or consequences of those choices in a safe environment, and hopefully learn to make good choices all the time. It also teaches that we as parents should not swoop in and rescue or bail out our child when he or she makes a bad choice. That short-circuits the purpose of allowing choices.
So my wife passes away and I have a monumental choice to make. I could become angry or bitter with God for taking away a wife and mother and leaving me to fend for myself and four children. Since children usually follow the example set by their parents, my kids would then grow up angry at God for taking their mother and they probably wouldn’t pursue Him much at all during their lifetimes. On the other hand, I could deal with where I am, allow God to reveal Himself in the midst of the storm, and run to Him Who alone is able to heal my broken heart. Regardless of my choice, my actions will establish my children’s view of God for the rest of their lives.
About three weeks after the funeral, my first real encouragement came from the Father through what I can only describe as an open vision. My eyes were open, albeit filled with tears, as I wrote down what I saw and heard. The sights and the sounds were so incredibly vivid that they were forever seared into my heart.
The scene is foggy, dark and wet. I saw myself walking along a wharf next to a dock. The old wooden planks groan and creak with every step I take. The wooden buildings next to the wharf form a wall I cannot see through or get around. Sounds ring through the night as I walk, even tip-toe, along this dark, wet, and foggy night. How did I get here? How will I get out? It doesn’t matter how I got here, and the question is who will lead me out? I am utterly lost. This foggy wharf goes on forever.
As I proceed down the walkway, I see the light of an old-fashioned hand-held lantern. As it approaches, I see that an old fisherman holds it. I can tell he has dwelt here for years. He greets me and tells me many have traveled this wharf before. He has met every one of them and has led and guided them down this wharf to their destination. How do you know of my destination, I ask. I don’t know of it myself. Travelers come along this way for only one reason, he replies. As we walk, I notice I have not seen his face. His wide-brimmed hat is pulled down to the upturned collar of his massive fisherman’s overcoat. The coat hangs to just above his knees, where a short piece of pant leg is visible, before it is swallowed up by his boot.
We walk along in silence. Sometimes he reaches out his hand to support me as the rotten planks shift under my weight. I thank him as I put my hand on his back to steady myself. Though I do not know him, I feel an unexplainable peace as he leads me on. This wharf is indeed very long.
As we continue, the fog thins, and I can tell dawn is beginning to break. As the light chases away the darkness, I find we are in the middle of a beautiful sunny meadow with flowers in full and fragrant bloom. His hat gives way to long, flowing, golden hair. His coat has become a white robe falling all the way to the ground. And the arm that steadied me is golden, muscular, and sure. I know You, I exclaim. He turns to face me and His gentle, almost sad eyes meet mine.
Oh My son, He says, every time one of My children comes down this path, it breaks My heart. You did nothing to place yourself on this road, yet you find yourself traveling it. I have traveled it many times, and I shall travel it many times more. You see, I am acquainted with your grief, and I have felt your sorrow and pain. And it is only by walking the path set before you that you will find your way out of this dark place.
You see, there are some whom I have called to walk a path that will reveal a dimension of My love and grace that only they will know. They are not special or unique among men, but that dimension of love and grace is there for the travelers of that path. Not all will go down that road. They are not called to do so. For some, the journey is longer than for others. But for each one, I am there to lead them through the night, through the fog, and to support them lest they slip and fall. I am the Good Shepherd. I will lead you beside still waters. I will take your hand as you walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I will lead you in the way everlasting. And yes, My child, I will restore your soul. For I am Good, and My mercy endures forever.
Pardon me while I take a moment to compose myself….That vision is as clear and real as it was the moments God spoke it to me nine years ago. As I was typing it into my blog, I had to stop several times and wipe the tears from my eyes. Our Father is so sweet and gentle. The grace I have is only because it was the grace I needed for that time, for that situation. God will give you exactly the grace that you need for your situation. You won’t need the grace for a specific situation until that specific situation comes up. But I can tell you, my friend, when you need it, it will be there. It will be a different grace than I have in that it will be tailored by the Father to perfectly fit what you are going through. But it is also the same grace that I received because it came from the Father, Who only gives good gifts!
I chose life. I chose to allow God to work His will in my heart. I chose to allow God’s people to surround me and my family and to care for us as we walked through this valley. I chose to allow a few men close to my heart, who would support me and carry me on their shoulders as God healed me; men who would love me, accept me, and forgive me when I wasn’t being lovable. “Where will I go? You have the words of life.”
This is important. You must surround yourself with God’s people if you are to come through the fire you’re currently experiencing. You cannot shut yourself off and hide alone with your pain. You must make yourself vulnerable if God is to work any kind of lasting healing in your heart. It’s your choice. Where will you go? Please run to the Father, for He has the words of life.
One night, my oldest daughter was having a sleep-over for her birthday party. We were watching a movie, and there was a happy wedding with dancing at the end of the movie. I couldn’t take it anymore. I hated that I had to walk through this valley and deal with the pain in my heart. It just wouldn’t go away. I hated that others could be happy and I couldn’t. I hated that other husbands could hold their wives and feel that closeness, yet I couldn’t, and I never had a say-so in the matter. I got up from my chair, went into my bedroom, shut the door and threw myself on the floor. I literally cried out to God. In desperation, I prayed a dangerous prayer because I was tired of where and who I was. I needed something to happen, something to change, and I didn’t care what or how. I prayed, “God, if You have to completely tear me down, and rebuild me as the man You want me to be, then do it.” I had nothing left, I had nowhere to run.
That was the point where I turned a corner and began to walk out of the darkness. I had come to the end of myself and realized that only by completely surrendering to the Father would I be able to find the peace and restoration that I so desperately wanted and needed. I can imagine the Father’s response to my prayer, “I can work with this. There’s nothing in the way. I can answer that prayer.”
As I continued to walk this out, God met me at every point of need. I experienced more of His faithfulness and saw more of His provision in those months than I had the entire rest of my life up to that point. If His love was tangible, I could have reached out and touched it at times. I heard Him speak to my heart in a way I never had before. I found areas of my heart that I never knew were there, and I began to discover who God had created me to be. I began to discover that I was indeed a man of God.
I also began to discover hope.
That once-in-a-lifetime love only comes around once in a lifetime, doesn’t it? I had already experienced it. What is interesting is that a few years before, my wife and I had decided that if anything ever happened to either of us, we each wanted the other to grieve for a proper period of time, then move on and marry someone else. We truly desired that the other would find happiness in another mate if one were to predecease the other.
But still, what hope could be found for an overweight, underemployed, single, 36-year-old father of four?
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:7-9
God had a plan about which I had not a clue. Without knowing it, I was introduced to hope in December 2003. My girls’ music teacher at school had heard me on the radio sharing briefly about our situation. It touched her heart and after a choir program at school, she shared with me how she had been praying for our family. I then took some keepsake pictures of my oldest daughter with her 5th grade music teacher. Later, I took those pictures to church to show a few close friends. My pastor’s wife, Susan Hulet, almost fell out of her chair when she saw them. “I know her!!!” she exclaimed. Beth had been the music teacher years ago for two of their children at their elementary school.
The wheels of my slow brain began to turn. I began to see hope. But it had been only three months since the funeral. WAY too soon for anything to happen, even I could figure that one out. I had miles to go before I would be out of this valley. But God had given me a glimpse of what awaited me ONLY if I made the choice to walk it out His way.
Make the choice to submit to God’s work in your life. Make the choice to be faithful, my friend.
**********************************
Lest this post become too voluminous, I will stop and pick up the story tomorrow. It would appear that I have more of the story to tell before Beth is able to share, but I promise you will hear from her before this thread is closed. Lynette and Lisa, I would make a terrible editor. This is all so good, I can’t edit any of it out!
The Faithful Steward Blog 