Triumph and Tragedy

This week, I’ve gone from being on the top of the mountain, to being in a deep valley within the space of a few short hours, and then on the mountain again.  I’ve watched as one of my children embraced love, life, and every good thing and kissed her.  I then had to turn around within the span of a few short hours and wrestle with another child’s efforts to keep her sanity through personal problems I am not at liberty to discuss.  In both cases, the one thing I saw, was the power of the presence of God.  That is the one thing that makes being a child of God so amazing, in the midst of tragedy or triumph, you know God is there and that he will eventually make all things work for good. 

Last Saturday, as I watched my only son embrace his lovely new bride, I wistfully remembered that day I pulled my lovely wife to me. I’m sure there were those who swore we’d never make it beyond the first year, and I’m equally sure that there were those who hoped we wouldn’t.  August 13^th, we will celebrate our 36^th year of life together.  I can tell you, and I believe she would too, it was only by the grace of God, that we’ve survived.  YES, we’ve survived.  It wasn’t easy.  Sometimes, it wasn’t even fun.  One thing is for certain, we’d have never made it without the presence of God in our lives.  We’ve lived through things we’ve never discussed with anyone, nor would we ever want to.  We’ve fought over petty things as well as major issues.  I’ve insulted her, and she’s insulted me.  I’ve hid all the sharp objects in our house, knowing full well if she found them, I’d have been a dead man.  I love that same woman more than ever.  Her embrace and passionate kiss can still drive me crazy.  Without the grace of God, I wouldn’t be able to say that now.  In our 36 years of marriage, we’ve moved eight times, been from one coast to another, had organs removed, brought 3 children into the world, retired a ridiculous number of vehicles, discovered every imaginable eatery along the way, gained enough weight to make three of us, and worshipped in more than sixty church homes (yes, I counted them.)

 

All of this by the grace of God.

Then, comes my daughter’s personal tragedy, and every parent’s heartbreak; the inability to make it go away.  The other evening I sat in my truck in the sweltering heat and begged God to lift my daughter out of her situation. Like any good parent (of which I loosely lay claim,) I told God to put it on me.  At which point he reminded me he already has.

 I forgot, you have to be specific with the creator of the universe.

 

Okay God, just make it go away.  

Some of you who are parents, know what I’m talking about.  Those moments when you bargain with God as if you have something to bargain with.  I pulled out every promise in the bible, and thumped him in his heart.  I don’t know how many times I yelled out ; “but you said.”  I reminded him of the prophecies spoken over her, the dreams I’ve had, the visions she’s had.  Then came his presence, and this soft reminder; “I love her more than you do.” 

Does anyone have a cure for rasping sobs?

 

It was useless to argue with him.  I knew the proof was in his Son. 

It took me a few minutes to compose myself, and then I headed home to my wife.  Later, my daughter called, and informed us that some friends from her home church had ministered God’s love to her in a way I wanted to. That’s the cool thing about God, he has friends everywhere, and they can step in for him to reaffirm his love.  I didn’t need to bargain with God.  I didn’t need to remind him of his promises.  You see, I’ve been here before.  I remembered the day I saw my firstborn infant grandson laying in the ICU with a ventilator pumping air into paralyzed lungs.  I wondered then, why that tiny infant was fighting for his life while I’d made a mess of my own life, and God still allowed me to breathe.  I questioned God that day as I had the other night.  I remember sitting out in the car in the parking lot of the hospital and God telling me the same thing.  “I love him more than you do.”  Eventually, the doctors figured out what happened and began administering the cure, even as people all over the world were praying for him.  How do I know that?  The internet, of course.  You see, God has friends all over the earth who are just waiting to demonstrate his love for us.

    

What I’ve learned from the sparrow’s perch is, life goes on, day after day, a never-ending parade of moments of great joy, or moments of intense sorrow.  What I’ve noticed about the both of them, is that they both overwhelm you, and then subside eventually.  Grief and sorrow often take longer to subside than joy, but in each, God still loves us.  Each triumph is born of conflict, and each tragedy is born of joy.  We can move through each with the creator of the universe, or we can rant at the stars for their callous disregard for our fortunes.

As for myself, I will retreat to the sparrows perch in the tabernacle of God, and softly sing of his presence.  Because, I know if his eye is on the sparrow, I know he watches over me.