Tag Archives: tragedy

Make a Way in the Wilderness

The old path had been obliterated by the multitude of floods sweeping through the valley. Over the course of the late winter and early spring, the rains had fallen heavily upon the mountain. The water had nowhere to go but down into the valleys below. Massive logs had been strewn this way and that, like straws spilled on a table, their remains were all that was left, like bones upon the shoreline of a distant war. Now, there were only piles of dark, entangled webs of roots and logs. Their bulk lay wherever the currents had subsided.

John’s River, Collettsville, NC.

One such testament to the disasters of this past season had now blocked the old trail which was once where my weekly crossing of the river would lead. It had been over a year since my last venture. Like a blanket of comfort, vines and forest growth had already claimed their new patron as their own. To once more scale the opposite shore would require finding a new way, a new path; blazing a trail once more through the wilderness. It was as if God was speaking to me this past week when all the events had fallen into place such that there was finally time to seek out this new pathway. Much like many of our lives at this moment, you too might be waiting on that next door to open. You might feel like those prayers you have lifted over and over again are not reaching through your own ceiling. In this time of waiting, there is learning. In this season of pause, we must seek what we have yet to find in our faith.

One might ask, “Is it even worth the effort to reclaim that old path?” or if your congregation has lived through a natural disaster you might ask, “Is it worth the money to rebuild the church after the storm?” To those fallen on even the direst of life’s circumstances, the question may arise, “How can I even go on living?”

God tells us through his prophet Isaiah, when he states, “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”

We often cannot see beyond the next hill or bank of the river. God has put before us the opportunity to blaze new pathways, leaving the old behind. When we find our way is blocked by circumstances beyond our control, or have a tragedy strike, we must first seek Him. When we find God, we must then listen, for when we receive him, his indwelling will become our guidepost. When we learn to listen for that still small voice, we shouldn’t be surprised to find guidance and direction, and often in the most unlikely of places.

The afternoon thunderstorms had been heavy, so it was no surprise to find the river was up. The sandbar, covered with all manner of stone, was now under water; it being my gauge as to when it is safe to cross or not. Having already decided that this would be the day to find out if there was a way possible, I went ahead with the plan. A wiser man might have simply passed for another day; not I. The first few footsteps into the murky turbulence proved my intuition was correct, the current was tearing away at my footing. Scarcely had not one step been taken before the next was nearly washed out from underneath. The crossing was not going to be easy. Not to mention, the distant shore, now covered with a network of vines and briars, would be even more daunting. I had just begun, and it seemed as if all was lost. In the back of my mind, the question arose as to, “Why, why are you doing this?”

Many times, when we are in the midst of our trial, even though we may be within the darkness of the valley of the shadow of death, we are not alone; God is with us. As we take that next step, there are those in our lives watching, like the boats surrounding the ship upon which Jesus had fallen asleep. Each small vessel carried passengers who also wondered if this may be their doom, waiting for a sign from the boat upon which Christ had found passage. To their amazement, from a distance, they watched as Jesus rebuked his disciple’s unbelief, and then calmed the raging seas. Those too, who are with us each day, watching our demeanor and response to the hardships through which we travail, are likewise inspired by the sometimes seemingly insignificant details of decisions we make; regardless, if it is something we find as trivial or something as horrific as the loss of a family member through a tragedy, each event elicits a similar revelation.

So, as I fought the raging currents to reach the other shore, it was with admirable satisfaction that when I embarked upon scaling the steep embankment, there was already an opening made by the hand of God. The force of the flood had caused not only trees to be washed away, but also the shape of the briars and vines had been swept into uniform patterns, causing them to lay one upon the other, like matting upon the earth. I easily found footing and barely had to cut back but just a few thorny green briars, here and there, until the paved trail of the Collettsville Park was in sight. All of my apprehension and fear had already been taken care of by the Master’s hand. All that was asked of me was to try, to take that first step into the raging torrent and trust in Him.

When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”-Isaiah 43:2

When we find ourselves in these times of trial and waiting, we must forge new forays into God’s Word, turning pages we might have never sought before. We are often taken aback at how direct the word may speak to us. Who hasn’t sought an answer from God, and in so doing, opened the Bible at random and found the very text to which your eye had cast upon answering you? But even in our doubt and struggle with waiting, we must keep every present in our mind that He will not leave us in our struggle. The wrath of destruction through which we survive, be it spiritual or physical, is not unnoticed by our Heavenly Father. When we pass through the storm, we will be blessed with the most loving promise, “Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;”

In the silence, God is working on answering your prayers.

Be ever vigilant and patient. It takes time, at least from our humanly perspective, for rivers to emerge from deserts. From the driest and most arid of the human soul can the fruit of the Holy Spirit spring forth, bubbling up unto the presence for all to see; a testimony of having battled through hell and survived by the Grace of God to tell the story.

Step into that torrent, blaze that trail once more and never give up. Christ didn’t die for your sins for you to throw away your life.

You can make it. You have His promise.

Thanks be to God.

Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;”-Psalm 103:4

When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”-Isaiah 43:2

Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”-Isaiah 43:19

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What Paradise Lost, Heaven hath Gained…#singforSophie

Alone I walked, contemplating all that had transpired.

The canopy overhead was quickly changing from its autumn wardrobe to the haunting skeleton of winter. In the distance, a cold front approached. A sense of foreboding loomed, causing me to seek my daily walk sooner, than later. I pulled my collar up against the chill and hurried my pace.

A single leaf drifted toward my face as I walked, then danced ahead as if skipping along in thought. I stopped walking and watched the wondrous image to see where it might land. Its flight led my eyes to the rocky cliff along the trail. Granite boulders covered with moss and lichens formed the backdrop that towered far above where I stood. Intertwined in the rock were roots and vines, like the veins of a being, resting for time immemorial. “How long they had been there? How long would they be there after we are gone,” were the thoughts that passed through my head as I pondered at that moment.

Our lives often seem fleeting as the fallen leaves when compared to those of stone walls.

The Word tells us that we are nothing more than like the grass of the field, the flowers will fade away, and the grass will surely die. “…because, All flesh is as grass, And all the glory of man[b] as the flower of the grass. The grass withers, And its flower falls away,25 But the word of the Lord endures forever.” – 1Peter 1:24-25

The flowers of the field are a beauty to behold, but nothing can prepare us for when those precious blooms are picked before their prime.

Even though the distance is far, the thought is ever present of one such precious bloom being picked; a recent tragic loss of life.

Last week, an automobile accident in Indiana saw three generations of the one family perish. The Reinhart family, in one fatal night, lost their father David, grandmother, Ruth Ann, and daughter, Sophie. I had heard about this tragedy through my cousin Jeff, who had not only been friends with the father since childhood but likewise, his daughters had been close friends with Jeff’s. Sophie was a star of the Castle High School marching band and school choral group, “The Castle Sensations.” They had been returning late from a band competition in Indianapolis when the Reinhart’s car hit a deer. Fearing the car might not make it any farther, David pulled off the road to assess the damage. The next thing was the sound of squealing tires, lights, and the explosion of the impact.  A drunk driver crashed into their car, in what became a multi-car pileup on the interstate; a horrific tragedy, and an unbelievable loss to the small communities of Paradise, Newburgh and the surrounding area of Indiana.

We never want to hear the news, nor get that phone call of events like this, yet it happens.

Many ask, “Why does God allow things like this happen to good people?”

Often, the answer that sometimes helps is, “Because it strengthens those who are left behind.” But there are times when that answer just doesn’t seem justifiable, especially when there is one too young to carry the burden remaining.

When my cousin Mike passed, we had all gathered around grandma’s kitchen table and were struggling to make sense of it all. Mike had just turned 21 and was a more than just a towering figure to the rest of us kids, but he was also someone we looked up to as our leader, our rock to whom we could turn. Now, there we all sat, trying to understand the how and why of it all. Her hand emerged from behind the crowd surrounding that ancient kitchen table, leaning into the center and placed a yellow lily sitting in a clear glass of water into the middle. My cousin Peggy asked, “What is that for grandma?” We all turned to look at her. There was but a shimmer of a tear in her eyes as she replied solemnly, “When you walk into a field of flowers, don’t you always pick the prettiest one?”

“Yes,” Peggy replied, in a hesitant, wondering tone.

“God needed another beautiful flower for the Master’s bouquet.”

All of our eyes turned toward the new single centerpiece of that table and thought of all the fond memories of Michael. It was a moment I will never forget. It was as if she had asked God to speak to each of us, comforting us each by our own memories; peace enveloped that tiny kitchen so long ago as Jesus helped us through another dark time. Grandma prayed over us all as Jesus touched our hearts.

In all of the sorrow of that horrific wreck on that dark, lonely road in Indiana, there was a single shining light. One flicker of hope for the family that had in an instant suffered so greatly, a lone survivor. Dave’s other daughter who was riding with them miraculously endured the disaster with only minor injuries. In the coming days, weeks, and years, that young daughter’s faith, as well as the rest of the family, will be tested. They will have to learn what substance is hoped for, in the evidence of the things that cannot be seen. The surviving daughter will relive that night for the rest of her life, that night where in the blink of an eye, her world became a living nightmare. They will have to lean on the everlasting cross, for in Him, they will find the strength and comfort to carry on.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, evidence of things unseen.”- Hebrews 11:1

All of this turns through my mind as my trail twists and turns through the ever-changing forest. “Why God, do you not let me walk in peace,” I asked, looking into the clear blue skies? A flurry of leaves swirl above me, then rush ahead disappearing into the darkness. 

A child, her sister, and their mother are left to carry on in a world that’s been altered from what seemed like the path that God had chosen. Ripped from its foundation, their very existence has been skewed so that now, they have to face a reality that seems anything but real.

My pathway passes the rapids on the Johns River where I stop to pause once more.

Then came the voice, “What Paradise has lost, Heaven has gained.”

God calls us home at the most unexpected times. Those that heard the beautiful, gracious young lady sing in person can easily see Sophie joining the angelic choir as her father and grandmother proudly look on; it has to be, it just does.

The heaviness for those mourning the loss of loved ones is felt in my heart as I watch the water pass over the rocks in gushing, white torrents.

Life is like the river.

Time is constantly passing like the current, with moments of upheaval and dire consequences when the world collides against those granite edifices creating chaos. In theses chaotic moments, we find our faith with both hands and embrace it tightly to our chests. When they slowly ebb back to normal, we return to the gentle currents where we seemingly pass from day-to-day unthinking; yet, constantly, time is passing on, like the current. Around a bend the water finds a swirling pool where the rush of life comes to a halt, peace and calmness follow. God’s purpose even in the time of great upheaval can find serenity and healing. Eventually, the water and life continue, time passing on, as the current flows onward.

What we lose on earth, heaven finds as a reward. We can find comfort in knowing that there is an even greater joy when we reach that golden shore. There waiting for us will be an angel dressed in white singing for all the ages.

These things we can only pray, for all those affected, for all those hurting; God is there for each of you.

These things we pray in God’s Holy Name,

Amen.

Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many mansions;[a] if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.[b] And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the way you know.” -John 14:1-4

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Listening with Open Hearts…

Listen to counsel and receive instruction, That you may be wise in your latter days.”-Proverbs 19:20

Listening.

Something I seek to do more of these days. images4NIA922Q

Yes, hearing those around us speak and sometimes not speak; sometimes the latter being louder than the former.

This past week there were stories so tragic, so heart wrenching that they brought tears to my eyes as my brethren shared them with me. More than once I found myself biting my lower lip in order to retain my composure, often failing to do so in the end. Each one imprinting upon my soul another unforgettable memory; an indelible mark upon my soul.

As we listen, we allow those who are suffering and mourning to share and heal. Yet, sometimes the empathy we want to evoke is more painful that even our own mental capacities can bear. A young mother of two losing her husband, a firefighter, was just one instance. The incomprehensible phone call at one in the morning describing the name of your son having died in a wreck yet another. Wiping away the horror of the reality of the tragic news not being a dream and then realizing there was more than one person by that name in your family, then being unsure, having to ask the question again and again, “Which one, which one?” Then the unexplainable and unbearably painful task of telling a loved one of their precious loss; to a mother, a daughter and her children.

There are days in my life that I wonder why God puts the best people in what seems to be harm’s way. Why do the good die young? Why does God allow evil to remain?

I recalled my grandmother’s words at the wake of my dear cousin Michael, only 21 years of age when he died the horrific death of flowerjarelectrocution. As we sat around her kitchen table, somber, mourning and heartbroken, she sat a single flower in a glass of water in the middle of the table. We watched, not knowing, just looking at an action that seemed methodical in nature not realizing there was a purpose. She looked at the flower a moment and then looked up and then at each of us young children and said these words, “Sometimes God has to pick the prettiest flower in the meadow to use in the master’s bouquet.” Somewhere from above, we could feel Michael smiling down upon us at that moment. Suddenly, we felt a little better.

And still, I continued to listen.

There were stories of tragedies so painful that they haunt their keepers years later. A mother recalled how they had rushed to the scene of the incident to find their son passed. The mystery still surrounding the death, the uncertainty and the cause wrapping themselves around the pain until they are nearly impossible to separate. The brother whose soul is tormented by questioning himself, “If only I had been there with him, if only.” The dreams and visions that followed were almost as difficult to hear as the initial loss. With time, one would think the memories would fade, but when the edge of the sword is sharpened through the pain, the lessons learned are not soon forgotten. With each miraculous tale, there was another thread of hope beginning to emerge, as if a light burning from the darkest recesses of our minds.

And still I listened more.

Through one tale after another, I keep an ear open and want to so badly lift the burden from their shoulders, the darkness from their hearts and the despair from their souls. Yet, to try to do it alone is impossible, for there is only One who is capable and to Him we must call in these times of utter anguish and pain. There is only one that is the light unto men, for we were all once darkness, but now we are light.

Time and time again, I hear good people being dragged through the hell of this world until there seems no hope, no reason to carry on. Yet, I try to remind them, the sword cannot be folded on the Master’s anvil without the heat of the forge, burning, searing the metal of our beings until we can withstand the pounding of His hammer as he reshapes us into the new persons we must become. When we give our lives over to Christ, we must die to our former selves and allow ourselves to be remolded, remade in His image. It is never easy, and it will take everything you have within you to make the transformation.

Imagine as Christ died on the cross, the ultimate physical ravages his body underwent before death welcomed Him into the grave. Yes, death was only temporary, for He was lifted up again in resurrection and now sits at the right hand of the Father Almighty, unto which we all may seek if we only accept Him into our lives and confess with our mouths and believe with our hearts that He died for our sins.

If we knock, the door shall open.

If we listen, He shall speak.

Listening with an open heart and mind.

This is what I seek to do.

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