Pick Your Crisis: Tornado or Illness?

If Satan wanted to destroy your faith, what would he do first?

He knew that Job was faithful and devoted to God, and thought it was because God had blessed him, so first he took away his belongings with an attack.  Then a tornado decimated property and killed all his children.  Job’s faith in God did not waiver.

Then, Satan was convinced that illness would cause Job to crumble.  And it worked.  Job never lost his faith in God, but his strength and resiliency faded to complete brokenness and utter grief. Job wasn’t trying to rebuild.  He sat in numbness and shock for a weak, doing nothing but grieving by tearing his clothes, rubbing ashes on his head, and ripping his injured skin with shards to relieve his physical misery.

What if Satan had started with illness before the other devastating actions?  Was it the illness that crumbled him or just the compounding effect of multiple traumatic events?  What would Satan choose to do to crush me with misery and despair? My imagination can concoct all kinds of possibilities.  Job must’ve done that too, because he says that everything he had feared and dreaded in the good times had finally happened to him (Job 3:25).

Whatever the answer, God is still in control.  He keeps Satan on a leash.  We have a choice to make – whether we will allow ourselves to be crushed by the uncontrollable dozer of destruction, or if we will climb onto it triumphantly knowing that God will use it for good and not waste it. 

We don’t get to choose.  And it is a waste of energy to contemplate it or imagine all the unthinkable that could happen.  Just know and prepare to not give in to despair.  Prepare to choose to trust.  God will carry us and teach us through the dark hours as we journey out of this world that is not our true home.

Seven Lessons Learned from a Heart Attack

My husband had a heart attack  6 weeks ago.  It was unexpected, shocking.  But God walked with me through the darkness and had a few things He wanted to show me.

1)      I am not alone.  The first moments in the hospital waiting room on a Saturday afternoon, it was entirely silent, only my body in the quiet space.  But I did not feel alone. I relished the quiet as the presence of Jesus engulfed me, filling me with peace and strength.  The moments of clinging to Jesus in quietness were precious.

2)      God manifests His presence in the form of loving family and friends, but does not mean for them to replace Him. Loving friends barged into the waiting room with hugs and encouragement, infusing me with strength.  I welcomed the interruption.  They helped divert my thoughts off myself and the crisis.  God did not intend that they squeeze Him out, but to be a physical reality of His nearness.  Later when they all left, He didn’t leave.  In the days after, I had to remember to turn to God and not let people take His place.

3)      I’m stronger than I thought I was, by His strength.   I always thought that if anything happened to my husband or children, it would be hard to even take the next breath of this life and function.  Sometimes people really do endure more than they can bear – they crack up, fall apart.  But God promises His grace is sufficient, and that His power will be made greater in our weakness.  I learned that maybe I really can survive without falling to pieces, that my life could go on, and that He would give me the strength I need if I will open my hands to Him and receive it.

4)      Joy is found in cherishing the moments and not taking the little things for granted. The hospital’s ICU kicked me out when visiting hours were over. When I returned to my empty, quiet house, all I could do was clean and try not to think about the “what if’s”.  As I swept my floor, I thought about my husband’s strong hands that laid the ceramic tile.  As I dusted, my heart melted at the thought of the book shelves he built with love for me.  As I slept alone in my bed, I longed to hear his heavy breathing next to me (even if it was his snoring). He wasn’t there, but the evidence surrounding me that he had been touched me. I never even really noticed before.

5)      It’s easy to let fear take the driver’s seat.  When I woke up early the following morning post crisis, I was attacked by the “what if’s”, starting with the biggest one of all – what if he had died?  Unless I hit the brakes on the circle of thoughts as they explored various avenues of my future, fear will take control and lead my emotions down a road to anxiety and panic.  I can’t just stop the fear or quit the “what if’s”. As soon as I catch myself, I have to replace those thoughts with something else, like remembering the things to be thankful for instead.  It’s not about being in denial of reality; it’s simply not worrying about what will be or what won’t be, preparing for the future but living in the present.

6)      I’m not in control, even if I try to be.  There’s a difference between being out-of-control and releasing control.  I couldn’t keep it from happening. I couldn’t control the speed of the doctors.  I couldn’t just close my eyes and make it all go away.  However, it wasn’t all utter chaos.  Someone else was in control, and I had to release myself to His control.  He already knew in advance this would happen.  It didn’t take Him by surprise. 

 

7)      God is good, regardless of the outcome.  I didn’t know if my husband would survive. Still, in those uncertain moments, God was assuring me He was good and He was in control, and it was okay if I didn’t understand.  He just wanted me to trust Him and remember His goodness and love for me.

 

He still has chest pain.  It scares me sometimes.  And the tornado that wiped out our old house and decimated the former neighborhood where we once lived in Moore, Oklahoma, I am reminded that a crisis could occur at any moment.  Any kind of crisis.  I could keep busy with worry.  I don’t want to live worrying about the next crisis, but when it happens, I know now that I have these seven lessons learned that I can hold onto firmly, and that the list of lessons will continue to grow.  And so will I.

Fear Versus Faith

Fear is one of those emotions that sneaks up on us. We don’t choose to feel it; it comes naturally.  However, we CAN choose NOT to fear.  That's why there are so many passages in the Bible that command us to not be afraid.  God wants us to have faith in Him.  This faith overcomes fear.

Like the disciples on the boat with Jesus during the storm.  Have you ever wondered what would’ve happened if the disciples had not woken up Jesus?  Would the boat have keeled over? Could some of them been washed overboard?  Was Jesus just sleeping, subconsciously waiting for them to wake Him and ask for help?  Maybe the biggest problem was that they stayed afraid after calling out to Him. 

Choose faith – but what is faith?  When my husband was having a heart attack in the ER, I could have succumbed to fear.  In that moment, the battle of emotions raged beneath the surface of my calm exterior.  Whether I consciously realized it or not, I could choose - choose to fear life without my husband, or choose faith in God and His goodness. 

But what does that kind of faith in God mean? It doesn’t mean the kind of faith that declares God was going to heal him, the kind of faith where all I had to do was name it and claim it.  It was the kind of faith that trusts Him to carry me through, whatever the outcome, knowing that no matter what happened none of it took Him by surprise. It was faith in His goodness even if it wasn’t obvious in the moment of my circumstances.

Maybe it’s easy to say since God has given me more time with Him.  When the day comes that we must part from each other on this earth, I pray God will give the strength, grace, and endurance to finish the race with faith in God’s goodness not only intact but firmly believed with every fiber of my being.

Where there is faith, there is no room for fear.

My Irrational Fear

I don’t exactly envy Elijah’s ride to heaven in a whirlwind.  A whirlwind is basically a tornado, isn’t it?  Was he excited or terrified? Was his adrenaline pumping as it swirled and descended toward him from the sky carrying the chariot and horses on blazes of fire? 

Not just in childhood but to this very day, my nightmares usually involve a dark and sinister tornado, or a herd of threatening tornadoes galloping across the horizon.  Skinny ones, wide ones, in a snowstorm, on a rocky cliff, even on the top of a building during a fire while being held at gunpoint – no dream exactly alike but all have a common denominator. 

Maybe it started with the annual viewing of the movie “Wizard of Oz” as a child growing up in Kansas, and maybe it continued with the devastating destruction of a mile-wide tornado that blasted neighborhoods adjacent to mine back in 1999. The daily drive through the war zone imprinted in my mind as fresh as if it were yesterday, adding fuel to my nightmares.

Yet, anticipating a “long-track strong tornado” from a developing supercell is horrifyingly exciting.  Why?  Is it merely the break in the monotony of daily routine?  Is it the knowledge that someone’s life is about to be turned upside down – and hoping it won’t be mine?  Is it the thrill of danger? The power of something wild that is way beyond my control, like being on a wild roller coaster, but trusting in the tracks and operator to keep me safe?  The anticipation in reality is better than the fear in my nightmares.

Perhaps tornadoes are my symbol of insecurity – the potential for something completely beyond my control to turn my life totally upside down.  If I know that God controls everything that crosses my path and that He will not allow something that is not for my good or will make Him look great, then why this crazy fear?  I know His plan for me is right and good, but I also know it won’t be easy.  It might even be painful, but He is orchestrating the unexpected into my life to accomplish His purposes. 

Maybe a ride to heaven in a whirlwind wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Photo courtesy of NSSL