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.
   

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.

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.
    

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.

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.

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