Because She Believed - A Story of Faith and Hope
May 27 was a normal Friday, like many others that had come and gone before it. There was only one problem; “normal” had taken on a new meaning over the preceding two months.
A little after 11 p.m., Julie and I were startled awake by the ringing of our doorbell. Our first thoughts were of our daughter Kristen. She had texted us an hour earlier, saying that she and her friends were leaving the Speed Street Festival in downtown Charlotte and going to her friend Kim’s house.
I knew this was the moment that God had been preparing me for over the last two months. I prayed the following as I dressed to answer the door, “Please God, if it is your will, remove this cup from me. But if not, then Your will be done.”
You see, two months earlier, on Easter Sunday, as Julie, the girls, and I were preparing to watch the musical The Passion, I had asked God to let me see His heart… and the following was His answer.
God responded to me with a question: “Would you see sin differently if it were your child who had to die for sin? Would the church see sin differently? Would the world see it differently?” As His question rocked me to my core, I saw my baby’s face. God had allowed me a small glimpse into His heart—a heart that was broken when He sent His Son to die for those who despised Him.
What I did not know on that May night was that God had reminded our daughter Kristen of the following promise on that same Easter Sunday. She had sent a tweet with these verses to her best friend a few hours before we watched the video together.
“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?’” (John 11:25-26).
Now two months later, my heart wrestled with my mind as I walked down the stairs. My heart still hoped for a different outcome as it pressed in on my quiet resolve, “Is this it? Is this His final word? Is this His answer to my prayer?”
Our concern for Kristen proved warranted as I saw her best friend, Brooke, standing at our front door. Although Brooke had her own key, she had not let herself in. So we suspected this was not a normal visit. “Kim called to tell me Kristen was involved in an accident as they left the festival,” she explained. “I don’t know any details, other than the accident involved a vehicle.”
Everything became a slow motion shadow of reality. Each thought and action was sluggish and heavy. I felt as if I were watching the events from a distance, as if they were happening to someone else. The temptation to despair was palpable. Fear was knocking on the door to my heart, desperately attempting to enter.
As the storm of emotions swirled around us, God’s steadfast love and the intimacy of His presence calmed my spirit and soothed my aching heart.
I knew, without any doubt, that the God who had walked with me as a child, the One who had never left me alone, the One who was so gentle and kind, He was with Kristen even now. I could feel the warmth of His love comfort me and knew that same love was washing over her… wherever she was, whatever the circumstance.
As her father, the temptation was to re-engage in the battle that had been fought over my daughter as God revealed to me the cost of sin. Through that struggle, He had guided me on a journey into His heart as a father and allowed me a taste of His foreknowledge concerning the loss of a child. This night His apparent answer to my prayer had become concrete.
My mind wanted to return to the weeks of struggle with Him in order to find a different answer—an answer that wouldn’t leave us broken and scarred, an answer that would allow Kristen to remain with us.
My flesh cried out in despair, and part of me really wanted to take that road. My flesh demanded to be heard, but I just couldn’t go there. That is not where the Father was leading me. The comfort of His Spirit was carrying me gently along toward His redemptive purpose. He was actively working all things together for our good, and He was leading us through this trial with such tenderness.
I wanted to be broken. It was my obligation as her father to be crushed by the weight of our impending loss. The Chief Accuser was busy screaming accusations at me and at God. I wanted to fight back and show him how badly I was hurting. But I couldn’t! God was walking with me so closely that I could not be consumed by the weight of this trial. The Enemy would see no victory in this tragedy. Not even the loss of my child could overshadow the surpassing glory and gentle touch of God’s Spirit.
The accusations continued to pour forth from the Enemy and from my own flesh: “What is wrong with you? Don’t you feel anything? Don’t you love her? How can you let her go so easily?”
Nothing was easy about it—not even for God Himself. That is what He had been showing me these last two months. He was showing me His pain not only as the Father of Jesus but also as Kristen’s Father, as our Father. He was showing me the terrible cost of sin in the world.
In moments of trial, it all comes down to whose voice we choose to listen to. Whose voice reflects the fruit of the Spirit spoken of in God’s Word? Whose voice lifts us up? Whose voice convicts us to move away from the darkness? Whose voice draws us toward the light? Whose voice brings comfort? That is the voice of our God!
As I struggled with the emotions that battled against my faith, I reflected on the first time I met Him. Far from the lofty cathedrals and stained glass windows, alone in the woods of West Virginia, I met God. I didn’t recognize Him for quite some time because He looked nothing like the character I had heard described by those I viewed as religious. The God I met was very different. He was kind and loving, convicting but never condemning, serious but always gentle. He knew my innermost struggles, but He never accused me. His mere presence was enough to convict my heart. The contrast between His light and the darkness of the world around me was a constant encouragement that there was more to this story of God than I had been told.
I tried to imagine how He would look if I could see His face. I wondered what His voice would sound like. I wondered what His physical touch would feel like. At that time, He was more like a wind passing through my soul that gently lifted me out of the darkness and nurtured the hope in my heart. His peace brought conviction that drew me toward the light and away from the darkness. I didn’t always immediately follow where He led, but His Spirit never let me stray far from the path He was showing me.
There were many forks in the road of my youth, but I couldn’t venture too far in the wrong direction before I noticed He was not with me. There was never a choice for me but to turn back and take the other road. His presence was the foundation of my life. Without Him, I was left in the darkness of my physical environment. After tasting the goodness of His presence, I couldn’t imagine a life without Him.
I thought everyone must know Him since I was no one of any consequence and He still spent time with me. I was sure others knew Him better than I did. They had better lives and seemed to have it all together. Surely He walked with them more than He walked with me.
I had known His presence most of my life, but I did not know His name. He was with me as a kid as we struggled to make ends meet in our small mobile home, as we went to pick up our government cheese, as we went to the free dental clinic, as our family struggled under the weight of my father’s abuse, as I saw others moving forward in life while we appeared to be trapped. He was always with me.
But it was the times when I walked in the woods with Him that I truly knew His intimacy. He was the Father I didn’t have. He was the security beyond my circumstances. He was the hope that lifted my spirit from beneath the weight of sin and sorrow. He was my Friend!
Many times the noise of this world tried to draw me away from Him. Many times my flesh wanted to follow the world into the darkness. Many times I started to walk away, only to return to the One who had always proven faithful. His love touched me, and I could never go back. There was nothing for me there. In the storm, He was my anchor. In the desert, He was my rain. In the heartache, He was my joy. In the darkness, He was my light.
Praise God for the storms. For without them, I would not know Him as I do!
I was a little confused and uncomfortable when I visited churches and did not see Him there. I am not saying He wasn’t there. Maybe He was, but I was too distracted by all the activity to notice Him. His touch with me has always been so loving and gentle. His voice has always been so soft and kind. I find it difficult to hear Him when there is such a production surrounding Him. It was a simple faith that drew me to Him, and it has been a simple faith that has kept me near. He walks with me and talks with me; He calls me His child.
Maybe I am a little jealous over Him in the crowds. Maybe I covet the personal, one on one time. I had never thought of that until now. Hmm, I’ll have to think and pray about that…
I find that many still speak of Him like He is out there somewhere, like we have to find Him, then find out what He is doing and join Him. His words echo in my soul: “I don’t live on a mountain or in temples of stone. I am always with you; you are never alone.” He is always there where you are! You never have to look for Him.
My thoughts returned to the present as we finished dressing and preparing to go to the hospital. It seemed to take forever to get ready and get to the car. When we left our neighborhood and headed toward the highway, we asked Brooke how long it had been since she arrived. She said she had been there about ten minutes. Wow, it seemed like a lifetime!
God tells us that time is not all that relevant to Him and His work. A thousand years for Him is as a day, and a day is as a thousand years. In moments like this, we are offered a glimpse into that reality. Time appears to slow down, and we relive a lifetime of memories in a matter of moments. This too is a gift from God. It allows us to move through the trials of this life without being consumed by the rawness of the moment.
As we turned South onto Interstate 77 toward Charlotte, we quietly prayed together, and I reflected on God and His faithfulness to our family. His fingerprints are all over our lives, and our family story is saturated with the intimate presence of His Spirit. God’s Word doesn’t only tell us about Him; His Word is a living and breathing reflection of Him. It is a personal letter to each of His children.
He is intimate with each of us as if we are the only one He is speaking to, yet He is with us all at the same time. His ways are a mystery to those who have never trusted Him with their lives. Our flesh cannot receive His words for His words are spiritually discerned. Our faith is the key to opening our spiritual eyes to see and our spiritual ears to hear.
The drive to Charlotte would prove to be quicker than I expected since it felt like we were moving in slow motion. The time of reflection on God and His proven care for us as a family filled the silence and the minutes of the half-hour drive. Although the temptation to despair was great, it is impossible, in my experience, for fear or hopelessness to invade my thoughts when my heart is reflecting on the faithfulness of God.
God does not inhabit some theological box created by religion. He transcends our limited perspective and exceeds our greatest expectations. There is no problem that He can’t handle. There is no one He can’t love. There is no place He won’t go to be with us.
These sweet words from Helen Lemmel are a beautiful reminder of our reality in Him.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.
That last line, “In the light of His glory and grace,” is an eternal perspective that brings hope and peace to our lives. Every trial and every heartache is swallowed up by His glory and grace.
