I made an unpardonable gaffe at the dinner table a few weeks ago when Tracy's roommate asked what our son and his friend got on their hunting trip. I said, "An elk." All the testosterone bearers at the table stared at me as if I'd lost my mind. "Six point", Tracy offered. Of course, now I understood. It would be like asking my husband what the new parents had, and having him say, "A baby." I, however, would not have been surprised. What we need is a comparison chart to translate baby info into something meaningful to men.
What most women want to know is the sex, size and name of the baby, and possibly something about the difficulty of the delivery. Sex is easy. (I'll just leave that statement alone.) Until the gender police terminally complicate the issue, a baby is either a buck or doe. For size, I'm thinking the average six to eight pound baby could be a four point, eight to ten pounds -- a six point, over ten pounds -- a Boone & Crockett baby. Those mothers' deserve some sort of recognition. For the little guys, four to six pounds could be a two point, and tiny preemies -- antlerless.
Unfortunately, there is no hunting metaphor for the baby's name. Men don't come home from hunting trips saying they shot a "Shirley" or a "Kevin". At least, not in the hunting stories I get to hear. So we might have to wait until we can ask a woman that part. And although men can describe many aspects of their search for game (without actually revealing the location of their hunting spot), and every detail of a complicated shot--position of the sun, temperature, wind velocity, etc., women will probably have to be satisfied with his description that the mom and baby are "Okay . . . I guess".
So in the future, I will remember to ask for baby details in testosterone terms. And for hunting questions, I'll just pass the buck.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Missing Miracles
We are studying the book of John both in church and at BSF and I am struck once again with how the Jewish leadership, which should have recognized and welcomed their Messiah, completely overlooked his miracles to pick at the minuscule. In today's John five study, Jesus heals a man who was unable to walk for 38 years, 38 years, and all the Jewish leadership can focus on is that the walking miracle was carrying his mat on the Sabbath. What? Were miracles happening every day? There goes another lame man healed. Ho hum.We would like to think we would do better if Jesus was walking around performing miracles today, however the Sanhedrin's underlying sin is common as ever.
I recently heard a radio pastor criticizing a movie where a child sees heaven. Watch out, I thought, dismissing something because it doesn't match our preconceptions was the Pharisee's sin. Admittedly, I do not take my theology from movies or television nor do I recommend it, but denying someone's actual experience based on our preconceptions is either foolish or arrogant. Probably both. The miracle working Messiah was a huge disappointment to the prejudiced Pharisees. They missed both the miracles, the message of the miracles and, saddest of all, the privilege of seeing God in the flesh. They asked questions, but all the wrong questions. They had made up their minds and left no room in them for the truth.
Sadly, Christians seem more likely than unbelievers to judge by appearance. We have made up our minds about how believers and churches should look and worship. And because we have made up our minds, we miss the miracle of seeing the church in all its varied beauty. The miracle of all people and tongues and nations worshiping as one body. I wonder what miracles I am missing because I have already made up my mind?
I recently heard a radio pastor criticizing a movie where a child sees heaven. Watch out, I thought, dismissing something because it doesn't match our preconceptions was the Pharisee's sin. Admittedly, I do not take my theology from movies or television nor do I recommend it, but denying someone's actual experience based on our preconceptions is either foolish or arrogant. Probably both. The miracle working Messiah was a huge disappointment to the prejudiced Pharisees. They missed both the miracles, the message of the miracles and, saddest of all, the privilege of seeing God in the flesh. They asked questions, but all the wrong questions. They had made up their minds and left no room in them for the truth.
Sadly, Christians seem more likely than unbelievers to judge by appearance. We have made up our minds about how believers and churches should look and worship. And because we have made up our minds, we miss the miracle of seeing the church in all its varied beauty. The miracle of all people and tongues and nations worshiping as one body. I wonder what miracles I am missing because I have already made up my mind?
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Facing Reality
When Reed and I thought about having children, there were certain realities we had to face, there was only so much genetic material to work with. It was not out of the realm of possibility that our offspring might be intelligent, but probably not Nobel prize winners. They might be good looking (if they didn't take too much after us), but were unlikely to be on magazine covers. Being tall would require genetic material from a previous generation, ditto for athleticism. If they became rich, it would not be from their inheritance. I was not afraid of having a special needs child because I grew up with one and it is just another thing. You deal with it. I told the Lord I wasn't sure I could handle a chronically ill child and am thankful I did not have to find out.
From Reed's side of the family, at least one of our children was likely to have poor vision. Easy solution for that--glasses. From my side, three of us four siblings had crooked teeth. That problem is also easy, if expensive, to fix--braces. Also from my side, scoliosis. Although none of our children developed a noticeable curvature, our daughter has hip dysplasia. And from both sides of the family, it was likely one of our children would be an alcoholic.
But for addiction we had no plan. Of course, a lot would depend on when and where the addiction happened. Montana has limited resources and adult children have to choose to fight addiction for themselves. We hoped that growing up in an alcohol free home, as we had, would provide some protection. Our children would know how to have fun without alcohol. And of course, we hoped they would take to heart what the Bible says about drunkenness. But, the reality is, we cannot control what our children will face. In this case DNA stands for Do Not Assume. Do not assume our children will respond to parental programming as if they were machines. All of us have genetic predispositions, sin natures and exposure to temptation. So you would think when reality rears its ugly head, we would recognize the face.
From Reed's side of the family, at least one of our children was likely to have poor vision. Easy solution for that--glasses. From my side, three of us four siblings had crooked teeth. That problem is also easy, if expensive, to fix--braces. Also from my side, scoliosis. Although none of our children developed a noticeable curvature, our daughter has hip dysplasia. And from both sides of the family, it was likely one of our children would be an alcoholic.
But for addiction we had no plan. Of course, a lot would depend on when and where the addiction happened. Montana has limited resources and adult children have to choose to fight addiction for themselves. We hoped that growing up in an alcohol free home, as we had, would provide some protection. Our children would know how to have fun without alcohol. And of course, we hoped they would take to heart what the Bible says about drunkenness. But, the reality is, we cannot control what our children will face. In this case DNA stands for Do Not Assume. Do not assume our children will respond to parental programming as if they were machines. All of us have genetic predispositions, sin natures and exposure to temptation. So you would think when reality rears its ugly head, we would recognize the face.
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
The Revealer Revealed
I have studied the story of the Samaritan woman at the well many times. John 4 has been the subject of preschool flannel graphs, "Women of the Bible" studies, and even songs. So when this week's BSF question asked what new or deeper truth I learned about Jesus from that portion of scripture, I didn't think I would come up with much. I was wrong. What I noticed this time, after weeks of focusing on our son's addiction treatment, was that Jesus only named one sin--adultery. Obviously she, like all of us, had committed many more, but Jesus only mentioned one. I think there were several reasons he did this:
1) Jesus is merciful. He knows how much we can handle. I am so grateful that when I open myself to the Spirit to reveal the sins I need to confess, He does not dump a truckload on me. I have a truckload, but He only reveals one or two at a time. Seeing all my sins at the same time would cause me to live in discouragement or give up on sanctification entirely. And I can trust him to do the same for my son, revealing one sin at a time, gradually making him more like Christ.
2) Jesus is merciful. He did not call her an adulteress. He did not even name her sin. He told her to do something that helped her understand it for herself. Which is what Jesus does for us through his word.
3) Jesus is merciful. He revealed her sin so that He could reveal Himself to her. He did not choose a sin common to everyone like lying or hateful thoughts, he chose one unique to her, five times married and currently cohabiting. Her sin specialty so to speak. Not only did Jesus see her sin, He saw her need, He saw her. And as we learned on the road to Rimrock, knowing God sees you changes your life. And not only the Samaritan woman's life, but the lives of the people she told.
Jesus is merciful. He uses even our sin to reveal His glory. In which case, I must be a fireworks display of glory.
1) Jesus is merciful. He knows how much we can handle. I am so grateful that when I open myself to the Spirit to reveal the sins I need to confess, He does not dump a truckload on me. I have a truckload, but He only reveals one or two at a time. Seeing all my sins at the same time would cause me to live in discouragement or give up on sanctification entirely. And I can trust him to do the same for my son, revealing one sin at a time, gradually making him more like Christ.
2) Jesus is merciful. He did not call her an adulteress. He did not even name her sin. He told her to do something that helped her understand it for herself. Which is what Jesus does for us through his word.
3) Jesus is merciful. He revealed her sin so that He could reveal Himself to her. He did not choose a sin common to everyone like lying or hateful thoughts, he chose one unique to her, five times married and currently cohabiting. Her sin specialty so to speak. Not only did Jesus see her sin, He saw her need, He saw her. And as we learned on the road to Rimrock, knowing God sees you changes your life. And not only the Samaritan woman's life, but the lives of the people she told.
Jesus is merciful. He uses even our sin to reveal His glory. In which case, I must be a fireworks display of glory.
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
The God Who Sees Me
Our experience on the road to Rimrock brings to mind one of my favorite Bible passages, the story of Hagar in the wilderness. For one thing I like Bible stories where the main character screws up and God's plan works out anyway. Wait a minute, that's most of the Bible. In this particular story in Genesis 16, Hagar is the one at fault. She slept with her boss's husband, although that was Sarah's idea. Why Abraham blindly followed that accepted cultural practice is what I call one of the "okey, dokeys" of the Bible. There are several places in Genesis where a bad idea is presented and, instead of praying, one of our spiritual forefathers says, "okey, dokey". Hagar's ideas, however, were her own. She mocked her boss, quit her job without notice, and ran away from home. So there she is, in the middle of nowhere, alone except for the baby in her belly, and God shows up. Or, more accurately, an angel shows up. He instructs her to return home and prophesies about her unborn child.
Hagar, however, understood that she was not just touched by an angel. She named the place Beer LaHai Roi, well of the living God who sees me. That encounter must have changed her life. The God who made such great promises to Abraham & Sarah saw her. Made promises to her. I used to envy Hagar, despite her servant status, until our encounter on the highway. Our messenger was quite human, and he made no prophecies about our son, but we clearly understood that God saw us. He answered our prayers as they were still on our lips. God always sees us, but there are times like Hagar's when we see that God sees us. May that well of blessing never run dry.
Hagar, however, understood that she was not just touched by an angel. She named the place Beer LaHai Roi, well of the living God who sees me. That encounter must have changed her life. The God who made such great promises to Abraham & Sarah saw her. Made promises to her. I used to envy Hagar, despite her servant status, until our encounter on the highway. Our messenger was quite human, and he made no prophecies about our son, but we clearly understood that God saw us. He answered our prayers as they were still on our lips. God always sees us, but there are times like Hagar's when we see that God sees us. May that well of blessing never run dry.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
More Than You Can Imagine
The divine intervention we experienced on the drive to Billings happened September 29th, but the prequel occurred August 18th in the unlikely spot of Wichita, KS. I would not have chosen Wichita in August as a vacation destination, but Reed was attending Citation Jet school there, and I love both travel and Reed, so there I was enjoying the heat and humidity of summer in the Midwest. I was walking into the Wichita Mall with nothing in particular on my mind when the Lord sent me a spontaneous message. Not aloud, of course. Just a thought that came into my mind that I know I did not put there. The message was, I am doing more than you can imagine. For Tracy was implied since he was always on my mind. Me, being me, I said, "I don't know Lord, I can imagine pretty big." This is only the second time God has given me information that I did not ask for, so I was mostly thinking, What the heck was that about?
Then we came home from Wichita to find Tracy, who was house sitting, dead drunk on the sofa and the house trashed. He had seen his ex at a restaurant the night before and drank so much we could barely rouse him. So I began doing what I always do in an overwhelming situation, I chose one thing to focus on. First, picking up empty cans, then plastic bottles. One thing at a time. the house became clean enough that we could unpack and go to bed. Except for Reed who, after getting up at 3:30 a.m. Montana time to catch our flight, sat up with his son from 12 - 1 a.m. to make sure he didn't aspirate. The minute we walked in our door I understood why God gave the unsolicited message, it gave us something positive to hang onto when we came home to chaos.
So far, more than you can imagine wasn't looking so good. That began happening later, when Tracy was finally willing to go to inpatient rehab. But the truly unimaginable event was when God showed up on the side of the road September 29th. And that was just the pinnacle of many perfectly timed events that followed, some of which I have already posted. God was right (no surprise), He has been doing more than I can imagine. And I look forward to the unimaginable things to come.
Then we came home from Wichita to find Tracy, who was house sitting, dead drunk on the sofa and the house trashed. He had seen his ex at a restaurant the night before and drank so much we could barely rouse him. So I began doing what I always do in an overwhelming situation, I chose one thing to focus on. First, picking up empty cans, then plastic bottles. One thing at a time. the house became clean enough that we could unpack and go to bed. Except for Reed who, after getting up at 3:30 a.m. Montana time to catch our flight, sat up with his son from 12 - 1 a.m. to make sure he didn't aspirate. The minute we walked in our door I understood why God gave the unsolicited message, it gave us something positive to hang onto when we came home to chaos.
So far, more than you can imagine wasn't looking so good. That began happening later, when Tracy was finally willing to go to inpatient rehab. But the truly unimaginable event was when God showed up on the side of the road September 29th. And that was just the pinnacle of many perfectly timed events that followed, some of which I have already posted. God was right (no surprise), He has been doing more than I can imagine. And I look forward to the unimaginable things to come.
Ryan, the Angel
Ryan,
Reed and I can't thank
you enough for the help you gave us and Tracy yesterday by the side of
the road. Reed has been a Christian over 50 years and I have for 44 and
we have never had an experience where God intervened
so directly in our circumstances. Thank you for listening to the Holy
Spirit. Tracy was raised in a Christian home, church and school, but his
faith has wavered for the past 15 years. Tracy had literally just said,
"I will never believe in God. I can't see
Him, and He can't see me." That's when your car pulled up. Tracy was a
little loopy from the lorazepam he had for withdrawal, but felt as if
God or an angel had showed up to help him. Later he said, "I will never
doubt there is a God because of what He did
for me today."
That doesn't mean the
rest of the trip was easy, especially the last hour, but the last thing
Tracy wanted before we walked with him into Rimrock was for us to pray
for him. I knew he would want to leave and we
got a message from the nurse there saying he wants to just detox and
come home. Please pray that he stays the full 29 days. I hope Tracy will
call you. We were all incredibly moved by this miraculous encounter.
You acted as God's messenger, so I will always
think of you as Ryan, the Angel.
Reed and Connie Lamb
Mr. and Mrs. Lamb,
I
am humbled by the kind words and naturally give credit where it is
due—God.
There are too many times that I cannot even count that I would have
continued on with attempting to make an important meeting, but in this
case my heart overwhelmed my head to turn around and assist as needed. I
am so very grateful that your son was able to
connect his immediate challenges with seeing God from my visit. That is
the beginning of an incredible life change. I will continue to pray
for your family and please feel free to reach out for additional support
or anything else that is warranted. I would
be honored to send him a copy of Purpose Driven Life by Pastor Rick
Warren if you think he would take the time to read it, which is
ultimately what prompted me to turn my life around after my deployment
to Iraq in 2004. Blessings.
Ryan Luchau
Follow UP
As soon as we got home from Billings, Reed received a phone call from Tracy's nurse (detox patients can't make phone calls the first three days) saying he wanted to come home. Of course he did. I knew he would. I did when I was inpatient for depression. So why was I so crushed to hear it? Did I really believe that after all that effort God had somehow dropped the ball? This was voluntary, not court ordered treatment, Tracy could leave any time he wanted. We wouldn't pick him up, of course, but he could still hitchhike. I hadn't warned Tracy he would feel like this because it was hard enough to get him in the door. I knew it was coming, but still I felt the icy grip of worry grab my heart.
I was on the phone telling my sister about the miracle, when I heard Tracy's roommate come in the front door. I heard him talking to Reed, but he was gone before I came out. Good thing. When Reed told me Clint got a DUI and spent the previous night in jail, I couldn't hide my rejoicing. This was perfect! It is exactly what needed to happen. One of my big fears was that Clint was Tracy's best friend, and Clint drank. A lot. He functioned much better than Tracy, but he needed to stop drinking too. A second DUI is a powerful motivator. I had told the Lord when they came to help move furniture a couple weeks earlier, with beer wafting out their pores, that God really had His work cut out for Him. He would have to reach both of them together. The icy hand on my heart was now doing high fives.
If Saturday night's news lifted my spirits, what happened Sunday was like a boulder rolling off my chest. Our pastor was preaching from John chapter six. As he expounded on verse 44, "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up in the last day.", I realized God was drawing my son and that drawing is irresistible. And I no longer had to look to his childhood to see that drawing, I only had to go back to Friday. God does not draw us against our will, but He changes our will. I still worry about the consequences Tracy will suffer for his sin, but I no longer worry that he will not be with the rest of the family in heaven. Tracy will follow where he is drawn and Jesus will raise him up.
I was on the phone telling my sister about the miracle, when I heard Tracy's roommate come in the front door. I heard him talking to Reed, but he was gone before I came out. Good thing. When Reed told me Clint got a DUI and spent the previous night in jail, I couldn't hide my rejoicing. This was perfect! It is exactly what needed to happen. One of my big fears was that Clint was Tracy's best friend, and Clint drank. A lot. He functioned much better than Tracy, but he needed to stop drinking too. A second DUI is a powerful motivator. I had told the Lord when they came to help move furniture a couple weeks earlier, with beer wafting out their pores, that God really had His work cut out for Him. He would have to reach both of them together. The icy hand on my heart was now doing high fives.
If Saturday night's news lifted my spirits, what happened Sunday was like a boulder rolling off my chest. Our pastor was preaching from John chapter six. As he expounded on verse 44, "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up in the last day.", I realized God was drawing my son and that drawing is irresistible. And I no longer had to look to his childhood to see that drawing, I only had to go back to Friday. God does not draw us against our will, but He changes our will. I still worry about the consequences Tracy will suffer for his sin, but I no longer worry that he will not be with the rest of the family in heaven. Tracy will follow where he is drawn and Jesus will raise him up.
Not Technically a Miracle
What happened to us on the road to Rimrock was not technically a miracle. God did not override a law of nature. He used what He normally does, the things He already made, to do his work. Like turning water into wine, Jesus uses ordinary objects and people to do extraordinary things. It was the instant answer to prayer and Ryan's message that made the event miraculous. It was followed by the other small confirmations God usually uses to guide Christians. Still, I cannot say that the rest of the trip to Billings was peaceful, even after the divine intervention. Tracy was still fearful, despite the lorazepam he was given for withdrawal until we got to Billings. Already running late, we were afraid to stop for smoke breaks. I had already decided to let him smoke in the car before he asked permission.
Tracy had been playing music from his phone on the car speakers since we left Kalispell for Helena the day before. To his credit, he tried to find genres we liked, like Celtic. It seemed important to him that we appreciated his music and I did like many of the songs but frankly, at that point, I would have liked "death metal" if it kept him calm. But he was not calm. He was holding on to both grab handles above the back doors and I was coaching him through slow, deep breathing like I used when I was in labor. I was out of ideas and praying furiously when Tracy started playing Brian Regan comedies on Spotify. Why didn't I think of that? Comedy is my favorite stress reliever. We laughed our way to Rimrock, 15 minutes late for his intake. It took another ten to get him from the parking lot to the door. The last thing he asked us to do before he entered was pray for him.
Having been on the inside of locked facilities when I was hospitalized for depression in my early 30's, I knew something of what he was feeling, but for Tracy it was also his first time away from his hometown. Since he did not go to college, he hadn't experienced that somber drive to a new place, the fancy dinner none of us had an appetite for, that first night alone with strangers for roommates. If someone had offered me a ride home my first three weeks at Bible college, I would have been gone in an instant--and I came from a dysfunctional home. Reed said he would have driven right through Western's campus without stopping his freshman year, if he hadn't needed to drop off a girl who had ridden with him. Of course, before too long we loved college and eventually each other, but an addiction center, despite all the educating done there, is hardly like college.
The important thing was, Tracy had made it to a place that could help him. For the first time in a long time, we knew he would not be drinking. We felt so blessed. After rain washed off the dead bugs stuck to the windshield on the drive home, I told Reed maybe we didn't need to stop for gas. Maybe God would miraculously fill the gas tank. He had already topped off our spiritual tanks.
Tracy had been playing music from his phone on the car speakers since we left Kalispell for Helena the day before. To his credit, he tried to find genres we liked, like Celtic. It seemed important to him that we appreciated his music and I did like many of the songs but frankly, at that point, I would have liked "death metal" if it kept him calm. But he was not calm. He was holding on to both grab handles above the back doors and I was coaching him through slow, deep breathing like I used when I was in labor. I was out of ideas and praying furiously when Tracy started playing Brian Regan comedies on Spotify. Why didn't I think of that? Comedy is my favorite stress reliever. We laughed our way to Rimrock, 15 minutes late for his intake. It took another ten to get him from the parking lot to the door. The last thing he asked us to do before he entered was pray for him.
Having been on the inside of locked facilities when I was hospitalized for depression in my early 30's, I knew something of what he was feeling, but for Tracy it was also his first time away from his hometown. Since he did not go to college, he hadn't experienced that somber drive to a new place, the fancy dinner none of us had an appetite for, that first night alone with strangers for roommates. If someone had offered me a ride home my first three weeks at Bible college, I would have been gone in an instant--and I came from a dysfunctional home. Reed said he would have driven right through Western's campus without stopping his freshman year, if he hadn't needed to drop off a girl who had ridden with him. Of course, before too long we loved college and eventually each other, but an addiction center, despite all the educating done there, is hardly like college.
The important thing was, Tracy had made it to a place that could help him. For the first time in a long time, we knew he would not be drinking. We felt so blessed. After rain washed off the dead bugs stuck to the windshield on the drive home, I told Reed maybe we didn't need to stop for gas. Maybe God would miraculously fill the gas tank. He had already topped off our spiritual tanks.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Stone Pillar
We did not erect a pillar of stone by the side of the road between Townsend and Toston, simply because we did not have time, but what happened to us there was every bit as memorable as was Jacob's vision at Bethel on his stone pillow. Afraid and homesick, Jacob was alone in the wilderness where his own sin had placed him. At that moment, few people could be less deserving than Jacob of his vision of a stairway to heaven, but God met him there, and that vision must have sustained him through long, weary years of waiting to go home. That stretch of I-287 is straight, but for our lives it was a turning point.
A year ago our youngest son's DUI accident exposed years of addiction, and we had been praying since then for him to be willing to go to inpatient rehab. That prayer was answered last Wednesday when he came over drunk and desperate. I immediately called Rimrock in Billings, which has a good reputation and was recommended by Tracy's DUI attorney. They set up an intake appointment for him on Friday afternoon. The closer we got to Billings, the more anxious Tracy became, so we stopped by the side of the road between Townsend and Toston to let him smoke and pace. Tracy sat in the grass smoking, I stood beside him, hand on his shoulder, trying to encourage him. Our children were raised in a Christian home, church and school, but Tracy's faith had wavered since his mid teens. He said, "I will never believe in God because I can't see him, and He can't see me." I prayed again, as I had so often, "Help Tracy to see that you are real, and you are good."
At that very moment a car pulled up behind ours on the side of the road. It had government plates. We were afraid we were in some sort of trouble for parking there. The driver got out and began to talk to Reed. He asked Tracy if he was a veteran because he was a counselor for veterans. Ryan told us he passed us while heading the other way to a meeting in Helena. He said he was a Christian and God told him to turn around and go talk to us. He had an important meeting to attend, but he knew it wasn't as important as doing what God prompted him to. He encouraged Tracy about rehab, gave us his card and prayed with us. We were all crying because we knew God had sent Ryan at just that moment to show Tracy that He was real and that He loved him, loved us. Tracy said, "I will never doubt there is a God again, because of what He did for me today." We left that roadside different people than when we had pulled over. God had met us there, in that place of desperation, between Townsend and Toston.
Reed and I have been Christians nearly 50 years, we knew God was real, but we never had, or ever expected to have, an experience where God so directly intervened in our lives. It is the kind of thing you hear about, but never experience. Angels are Gods' messengers, and since Ryan acted as God's messenger that day, I will always think of him as Ryan, the Angel. I wish we had noted the mile marker before we pulled out, but we were too stunned to do so. Ten days later, on the way to visit Tracy, we pulled over at the most likely spot and set up a pillar of four stones. One each for Reed, Tracy and I, and a small heart-shaped stone for God, because that deserted spot is where God showed Himself to a desperate, fearful young man in the place where sin had brought him. And that glimpse of God will sustain us through the years ahead, as we wait to go home.
A year ago our youngest son's DUI accident exposed years of addiction, and we had been praying since then for him to be willing to go to inpatient rehab. That prayer was answered last Wednesday when he came over drunk and desperate. I immediately called Rimrock in Billings, which has a good reputation and was recommended by Tracy's DUI attorney. They set up an intake appointment for him on Friday afternoon. The closer we got to Billings, the more anxious Tracy became, so we stopped by the side of the road between Townsend and Toston to let him smoke and pace. Tracy sat in the grass smoking, I stood beside him, hand on his shoulder, trying to encourage him. Our children were raised in a Christian home, church and school, but Tracy's faith had wavered since his mid teens. He said, "I will never believe in God because I can't see him, and He can't see me." I prayed again, as I had so often, "Help Tracy to see that you are real, and you are good."
At that very moment a car pulled up behind ours on the side of the road. It had government plates. We were afraid we were in some sort of trouble for parking there. The driver got out and began to talk to Reed. He asked Tracy if he was a veteran because he was a counselor for veterans. Ryan told us he passed us while heading the other way to a meeting in Helena. He said he was a Christian and God told him to turn around and go talk to us. He had an important meeting to attend, but he knew it wasn't as important as doing what God prompted him to. He encouraged Tracy about rehab, gave us his card and prayed with us. We were all crying because we knew God had sent Ryan at just that moment to show Tracy that He was real and that He loved him, loved us. Tracy said, "I will never doubt there is a God again, because of what He did for me today." We left that roadside different people than when we had pulled over. God had met us there, in that place of desperation, between Townsend and Toston.
Reed and I have been Christians nearly 50 years, we knew God was real, but we never had, or ever expected to have, an experience where God so directly intervened in our lives. It is the kind of thing you hear about, but never experience. Angels are Gods' messengers, and since Ryan acted as God's messenger that day, I will always think of him as Ryan, the Angel. I wish we had noted the mile marker before we pulled out, but we were too stunned to do so. Ten days later, on the way to visit Tracy, we pulled over at the most likely spot and set up a pillar of four stones. One each for Reed, Tracy and I, and a small heart-shaped stone for God, because that deserted spot is where God showed Himself to a desperate, fearful young man in the place where sin had brought him. And that glimpse of God will sustain us through the years ahead, as we wait to go home.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
And Then We Fly
Kalispell is a cloudy place, we only have 2 more days of sunshine here than they have in Seattle. I am solar powered, so our cloudy winters are hard on me. Despite vitamin D and a happy light, the sunless skies sap my energy and cloud my mind. I actually perk up when the invisible sun sets and I can't see the white skies anymore. From my petite perspective, there is no sun.
Segue to a recent trip I made to Missoula. I hitched a ride there with my daughter and son-in-law, and my husband suggested the splurge of having my nephew, Alex, fly me back to Kalispell in his Cessna. I've made well over a hundred trips to Missoula and back in the 32 years we have lived here. That route is as familiar to me as my own face. But it was a whole new adventure from the air. I saw roads I didn't know existed, houses in the middle of nowhere, the fields and forests were beautiful. I have flown many times, but those bigger, faster airplanes fly too high to see the details that I did from that little Cessna. We even had in-flight entertainment, it was called Sunset on the Mountains.
But then, every day is sunny when you are above the clouds. Summer or winter, rain or shine, half the planet is in daylight. From a proper perspective, there is always sun. What is true for the sun in the sky is also true for the Son of God. Whether we can see him or not, He is always there, warming, energizing, giving us life and light. One day He will banish the clouds between us, and then we fly.
Segue to a recent trip I made to Missoula. I hitched a ride there with my daughter and son-in-law, and my husband suggested the splurge of having my nephew, Alex, fly me back to Kalispell in his Cessna. I've made well over a hundred trips to Missoula and back in the 32 years we have lived here. That route is as familiar to me as my own face. But it was a whole new adventure from the air. I saw roads I didn't know existed, houses in the middle of nowhere, the fields and forests were beautiful. I have flown many times, but those bigger, faster airplanes fly too high to see the details that I did from that little Cessna. We even had in-flight entertainment, it was called Sunset on the Mountains.
But then, every day is sunny when you are above the clouds. Summer or winter, rain or shine, half the planet is in daylight. From a proper perspective, there is always sun. What is true for the sun in the sky is also true for the Son of God. Whether we can see him or not, He is always there, warming, energizing, giving us life and light. One day He will banish the clouds between us, and then we fly.
Monday, October 3, 2016
Tragic Joy
Most moments in life are a mingling of good and bad, but some are more poignant than others. I was only four when my brother Roddy was born with cerebral palsy, but that was such a moment, joy--because a child was brought into the world, tragic--because he would face a lifelong struggle. It was similar when my nephew Zane was born with spina bifida. Both of them have exceeded medical expectations, but they will always struggle to do things most of us take for granted.
Last year we experienced tragic joy with our own son, joy--because he had survived rolling his pickup, tragic--because he was driving drunk at the time. The downward spirals of addiction are tragic, but having them exposed before worse tragedies happen is a good thing. Last Wednesday our son came to the door drunk and desperate. A year after his accident, he was finally ready to go to inpatient rehab. Tragic--that his life had come to this, joy--that he came to this understanding. It is our prayer that he, too, will exceed expectations, though addictions are a lifelong struggle.
The ultimate tragic joy will always be the crucifixion--the ugliness of sin that brought it about, the beauty of Christ's redemption. The depth of depravity. The height of humility. The physical pain. The spiritual gain. The cry of despair, "Why have you forsaken me?" The shout of victory, "It is finished!"Our access to heaven is through the broken body of Christ. That is where the tragic joys of this earth give way to the eternal joys of heaven, and the mingling is only of man with God.
Last year we experienced tragic joy with our own son, joy--because he had survived rolling his pickup, tragic--because he was driving drunk at the time. The downward spirals of addiction are tragic, but having them exposed before worse tragedies happen is a good thing. Last Wednesday our son came to the door drunk and desperate. A year after his accident, he was finally ready to go to inpatient rehab. Tragic--that his life had come to this, joy--that he came to this understanding. It is our prayer that he, too, will exceed expectations, though addictions are a lifelong struggle.
The ultimate tragic joy will always be the crucifixion--the ugliness of sin that brought it about, the beauty of Christ's redemption. The depth of depravity. The height of humility. The physical pain. The spiritual gain. The cry of despair, "Why have you forsaken me?" The shout of victory, "It is finished!"Our access to heaven is through the broken body of Christ. That is where the tragic joys of this earth give way to the eternal joys of heaven, and the mingling is only of man with God.
God's Business Cards
As I was praying for my son last week, for God to heal the broken places in his life, to renew his spirit, I realized I was not praying for something unusual. It is actually God's specialty. At the risk of sounding irreverent, it is what He does for a living. If God had a business card, it could read:
God--
Healing hearts and saving souls
since Creation.
Ps. 34:18
God--
Healing hearts and saving souls
since Creation.
Ps. 34:18
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