“Tragedy always comes. If it hasn’t come for you, it will. Not the losing-your-homework kind of or the having-to-flush-your-goldfish kind, but the kind that leaves you stripped. The kind that tears from you all the ideas about living you once believed untearable.”
My moment of tragedy struck in eighth grade. In a matter of three hours my life changed completely. I had never experienced death until that point and this was not your typical death. My youth pastor, a man I had been quite close to and who had been my example of Jesus, had killed himself. To make matters worse I later found out that he had been accused of molesting several boys within the youth group I attended. I couldn’t comprehend what was being said. How could this be true? Wasn’t God supposed to be good? Wasn’t he always with us? Didn’t he love us? I couldn’t even imagine how any of the things I had been taught about this God could be real. If they were, Dan wouldn’t have died. I wouldn’t feel alone. And bad things wouldn’t happen.
My parents tried to talk to me about it, but nothing would help. I had been a vibrant part of my church community. I was a part of the acting group, Kings Kids, for a year or so, I was always at youth group, and I had a fairly solid group of friends there. After this, I wanted nothing to do with church or with God. At the time I thought it was only Elmbrook that I didn’t want to be a part of, but as time went on I realized I wanted nothing to do with the whole Christian world. God was not who he said He was. I was finished.
I was forced to continue going to church. My parents would drop me off at Sunday School, but the minute they turned the corner I bolted up the other set of stairs and sat in the bookstore or library until it was time for me to meet up with my family. The only Christian influence I allowed to infiltrate my soul were the messages within the Veggie Tales series. I laugh about that now but at the time it’s the only the thing I paid attention to that had any mention of God.
This is the point of the story where most people will say they began to find things to fill the hole. Drugs, Sex, Smoking…etc. That is not how my story went. I didn’t find anything to fill the void. I didn’t think there was a void. It was surprisingly easy for me to just shut that part of my life down. For about a year, it felt like nothing was missing. And I was ok with that. I lost contact with a lot of my friends because I no longer attended youth group activities, but it didn’t seem to matter. I had friends at school. God wasn’t a factor in my every day decisions. He didn’t matter.
“When good is found and we embrace it with abandon, we embrace the Giver of it.”
A few months after everything happened, my parents decided they wanted to leave Elmbrook and try out a new church. At that point I didn’t care what we did. Leaving Elmbrook seemed to be the best option at the time. The memories always lingered and a fresh start seemed good. Honestly I didn’t think anything would change.
We arrived at Woodside Community Church one Sunday morning and to my horror, my large family of seven made up roughly half of the church. The one benefit to Elmbrook was that within the thousands of people who attended it was quite easy to hide out. You didn’t necessarily have to talk to anyone. This was not at all true of Woodside.
God had a different plan for me. While I had given up on Him, He never stopped pursuing me. He placed my family in a church filled with strong Christian Women who not only knew, but believed that God was good.
Two women in particular, Jeri Stupar and Donna Dixon, paid attention to me. At the time Jeri was teacher in Children’s ministry while her husband preached in the main service. I never wanted to sit in the service, so I escaped to children’s church even though at that point I was 14 years old. I listened to story after story week after week about God and while I adamantly believed it wasn’t sinking in, God was moving in my heart. The walls were slowly beginning to crumble. That hole that I had never felt became more of a presence in my life. Something was missing. All Donna had to do was make sure to talk to me each week. I don’t know if it was intentional, but I usually saw her and said hello. She would ask me about my week and I would probably mumble an answer. Little did she know how important those few words were each week.
I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I know that at some point it finally hit me. Not only did I feel as though I was being pulled into the loving arms of God, but I felt like He was going to use me to do good in the world. I wrote a letter to my pastors and told them my story. I told them that I was ready to come back to God again. I was ready to cling to him, because nothing else seemed to work. I told them I was not sure how it would work, but I was done with being finished with God. I embraced the good of God and in doing so embraced Him.
“This is the Praise Habit. Finding God moment by revelatory moment, in the sacred and the mundane, in the valley and on the hill, in triumph and tragedy, and living praise erupting because of it.”
Since the death of Dan, others have passed away and I have struggled with many different kinds of tragedy. And in the initial moments of it happening I start to ask the normal questions….but then I remember what God has done for me. I remember that He is doing a work in me to help make the world a better place. He has such big plans for me and while tragedy is hard, it is in those moments that he holds us tighter. He walks next to us and holds our hands as we persevere through the darkness into his warm and everlasting light.
He is there in my tears as I hold special needs kids who are most likely ignored in Africa. He is there in my panic attacks as I begin to take a test. He is there in sickness, sadness, weariness, and pain. He is there always. And that is what is so amazing about my God. Today I leave you with the lyrics to a song and the link to an amazing instrumental version of the song. This is my prayer. That as I walk through life, good or bad, I will remember that God is with me and It Is Well in My Soul.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUFDGKDjiXI&feature=endscreen&NR=1
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
