 |
 | ||||
 |
 | ||||
         
|
Second Son
I walked into the church and down the aisle. Up the aisle came the parents who stood before the casket of the second son that they have lost in the past six years. The first young son died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Now this elder son was taken in an accident at work – on his 35th birthday – not many hours after his mother had called him to say: “Happy Birthday, son. I love you.” What do you say to believers who have experienced such unimaginable loss? They did not give me a minute to fumble through words. “John, it is so nice of you to come. We are so blessed to be apart of your ministry.” I looked deeply into their eyes. Pain? Yes. But also there was such hope and strength. I was awestruck and speechless. How can they stand there in a moment and place such as this with an obvious desire to encourage me? I glanced up at the mahogany casket and then to these dear Christian parents, and I knew I was seeing God. God had His arms around them. His hand was holding together their inner brokenness. I am not suggesting that they did not weep bitterly or that they did not fall apart. But the fact that they could stand there at all and even think of the feelings of another human being in a time like that was a display of the power of God. The Holy Spirit through Paul said it so well: “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not us. We are afflicted in every way – but not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are persecuted, but not forsaken. We are struck down, but not destroyed. Always carrying in the body the death of the Lord Jesus; so, that the life of Jesus may also be manifest in our bodies.” How clearly the transcendent power and love of God blazed through the broken earthen vessels of these two precious parents – perplexed but not forsaken. They were never forsaken because the Lord Jesus Christ has taken up full residence in their hearts. I had not wanted to go into that Church for fear of even looking upon their pain. And here I was leaving the church filled with the blessing of God. But isn’t that just like Him? The greatest ministry, the greatest encouragement, the greatest comfort is always found at the foot of the Cross. Isn’t light always the most evident when it rolls back the deepest darkness. I have to say that I have never faced a valley as deep as the one that my dear brother and sister are walking through now. But as I looked in their eyes, I became convinced that God can be trusted even there. As I think about it, I know that God has blessed me more, and I have grown more, in the valleys of my life than on the mountain tops. We naturally prefer the mountain tops, but God is in control of both. He can be trusted even in our valleys because His power and His perfect love for us are not fickle, they are fixed. Our circumstances change, but He is our Rock who does not change and His love for us endures forever. I speak of a sure hope from the God that the kids we work with usually know nothing about, even though He has claimed them as His own. Psalm 68 tells us that He is the Father of the fatherless. Most of these kids face daily the valleys of abandonment, poverty and ridicule. They are the lost that Jesus described as harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd. Our job is not to protect them from all the pains of this world, even though God does use us to stop some of that pain, abuse and suffering. Life in this sin-cursed world is often painful and the goal of protecting kids, our own or the fatherless kids to whom we minister, from all pain can be more destructive than helpful. A friend of mine tells the story of growing up on a farm. They raised chicks. As a boy, he had responsibilities in the hatchery. His father told him not to help the new chicks to remove their shell. He explained that the chicks needed the struggle in the hatching process in order to be strong enough to face life. Well one day, when his Dad was not around, young Tim let his compassion get the better of him, and he removed some of the shell for one chick. Tim went on to report that all through that chicken’s short life he was reminded of his father’s wisdom. The chicken he helped was never as strong as the other chickens. Our goal is not to protect them from life’s dark valleys but to give them access to the light. Most of these kids have been born into families who have been wondering in the same valley for generations with no hope for a way out. Our job is to put these kids into relationships with men and woman who are the Light, who have the hope and the way found in just one person, Christ Jesus. Just as I was blessed and challenged by the faith and hope of this couple, a mentor often does his most profound ministry, not at the circus, but in the traffic jam. Not while delivering presents, but while in the presence of great pain and struggle. A Christian in life’s valleys screams hope to the world, not because we carry a burden of pretending to not suffer, but because we have God’s eternal perspective and we have His Sprit within us. Hope pours from us, not from any effort of our own, but as a natural consequence of who we are in Christ. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5:5 We can not expose fatherless kids to this Christian example by planning events. These blessed ministry opportunities take place at the times and places of God’s choosing as our mentors faithfully “pray up” and then show up to share their lives, and God’s love, with our kids -- just a few hours each and every week. Our end goal is to help children look up in the midst of life’s struggle, and to find the hand of that Good Shepherd who will walk through all the valleys with them. He is all they need. He is all I need. He is all any of us need.
| ||||