Sometimes . . . when someone has experienced a tragedy, it’s best to sit with them in silence. Not always, but sometimes. Alistair Begg, senior pastor of Parkside Church in Cleveland, Ohio, calls that “Eloquent Silence.”
I remember one of our local chaplains telling us about a visit he made to a Navy family in the housing area whose baby had died. When he arrived, he sat with the couple on the front porch. Just sat with them. Later the couple told him that was the most helpful thing he could have done at the time. He acted according to Romans 12:15, “. . . mourn with those who mourn.”
Storms
Excellent or Praiseworthy is posted on Monday and Thursday nights.
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. — Hebrews 12:2,3
From the blog of a soldier’s wife, serving in Afghanistan:
As I write this, winds continue to howl furiously throughout the woods in our backyard.
The weather was expected to be severe late tonight, but as we drove home from dinner we were surprised to find ourselves driving into heavy rain and severe lightening. The severe weather had arrived much earlier than predicted. As we neared our home, we drove deeper and deeper into the severe storm that was passing through Georgia as it continued it’s way North East. My Mom called and warned us a tornado had been spotted. I called my brother and he confirmed (from his basement in Birmingham, no less, that what they had just experienced was heading our way). My neighbor even called to see “if we were aware of the situation.” I was and the more phone conversations I had and the heavier the rain got, so were my girls. It was a long and intense 30 minute drive home. And I was surprised to feel my legs quite weak as I stepped out of the van and into our garage. I didn’t doubt God’s sovereignty, but I was definitely anxious to get home.
One of my daughters was particularly alarmed by the whole incident. As the weather calmed and the tornado warnings expired, we all made our way up from the basement and got ready for bed. When I went to tuck this one particular child in she asks, “Momma, how do I become a Christian? That storm scared me.”
Wow. What volumes those two sentences spoke.
Long story short, I went on to tell her that I was glad she wanted to be a Christian, but just because she wanted to be a Christian didn’t mean she wouldn’t have severe trials in her life.
As I walked out of my daughter’s room, I thought about the statement she had made and I thought about my crazy, stressful week that just seemed over the top exhausting and increasingly more frustrating with every day. And I thought about the sufferings being experienced by my own loved ones.
Yes, being a Christian doesn’t eliminate the storms–the trials–in our lives. But being a Christian allows us to use them to grow our walk, to persevere, to endure.
How often do we make our storms more severe by being completely caught off guard by them?! And how much more dangerous do they seem when our view of who we are is more self-centered than Christ-centered?
What a neat moment I had with my sweet girl tonight.
What an amazing door was opened tonight.
And what a reminder I got from tucking a child of mine in bed.
May we remember who our Maker is … He who made Heaven and Earth! And may we keep our eyes on Him no matter what storms, most not weather-related, fill our days. He has a plan and He will carry us through.
Goodnight to my soldier, who has his own storms of sorts to battle, yet amidst the storms always seems to make time for me like time is all he’s got. We all miss you! Thank you for the letters you wrote to each of us. They all came today.
Love you …
Questions to Share:
1. What storms in life have you endured?
2. How has your faith in God gotten you through those storms?
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