My Testimony

When I was seven, I became a Christian. The following Sunday, I was baptized. Life was perfect ever since.

Wouldn’t that be nice? Of course, you know that life is not perfect and it hasn’t been for me either.

I won’t bore you with everything that happened. I grew up in the church. I went to school. I had part-time jobs growing up and hung out with my friends. When I was in graduate school, I still lived at home (cheaper, you know!) and made enough money to pay for tuition, books, and other things. I was also involved in a ministry area at my church which my Dad led.

Then everything changed: my father died suddenly. One night, he’s heading off to bed telling me to “be sure and take out the trash.” I never saw him again. On that day, I went to work. My Dad had already left before I got up. I got a phone call that afternoon from my Mom at the pool that I managed: “Your Dad’s in the hospital and it looks like he’ll have to have bypass surgery.” She gave me the details – he was OK but had gotten very sick walking back with my brother to the car from his office. From there he came home and then went to the emergency room where he was diagnosed with heart issues.

I didn’t worry too much about it. My Dad had previously had bypass surgery five years before and had come through very well. I committed to going to the hospital after my shift was over that night. I got another phone call later in the afternoon saying, “Be sure to see your father.” I got a little more concerned as my shift ended; but, I wasn’t sure why.

When I got to the hospital, I heard a page for my Mom. She showed up soon after with my brother and his girlfriend. They put us into a room and the cardiologist came out. “It’s not looking good. I’m afraid we might lose him.” Ten minutes later, the cardiologist came back out and said, “He’s gone.”

Total shock.

(All these years later, I couldn’t write a word for awhile after that last short sentence just remembering that time.)

Right after he died, a phone rang in the other waiting room – it was my uncle. I still have no idea how he got that number. I volunteered to go talk to him. All I could get out was, “He’s gone.” and then sat down and cried my heart out. By that time, the pastor from our church had arrived. He had to take over the phone call and talk to my uncle.

My other uncle had come to our house that night and Mom, my uncle, and my brother planned the funeral. I couldn’t participate because I had gone to bed with a migraine. I had worn my favorite shirt that day – I threw it away. I didn’t sleep for two nights. The night after we buried my father, I slept like a baby – I’m not sure why. The first dream I had of him, he was meeting me for pizza – and I remember thinking in my dream, “I can’t have pizza with you. You died.” I awoke.

C.S. Lewis wrote a book on grief and described it as like “being punched in the gut.” I thought that was one of the best definitions of what I experienced. But that’s not all I felt.

I was angry with God.

How could God take my father from me? Why would he let him die at such a young age? (I’m at least five years older now than he ever got to be.) Wasn’t he already doing all the things that he needed to do to remain healthy? Didn’t he believe in you?

I ran the ministry that my father had run in my church for one year. I resigned when the budget that was allocated was only 1/16th of our proposal. It was just as well, I had a job where I needed to start working on Sunday’s – so it was much harder for me to get to church. The truth was, I didn’t need a reason.

And so began my ten year walk away from the church. Oh, I still went (occasionally), and I still listened. And I knew in my brain and agreed with all the logical conclusions from all the scripture study from the sermons and the bible studies.

But I was angry with God. So, I quit praying to him (unless it was to complain about him).

I moved away. I got another job. I searched for a new church in a new city but never found one I wanted to make my church home. (Why would I commit to that?)

I got older. I got another job. I got married. I bought a house. I got up on Sundays and watched a gardening show.

I had quit God. But, He didn’t quit me.

Ten years into this walking away from God, I had a dream. In the dream, I was walking in great darkness – the clouds were all around me and I just couldn’t see through it. Far into the horizon, a light broke through. As I headed toward that light, I knew with a certainty that God was there. He was leading me back to Himself.

I got up and told my wife, “I think we need to go to church.” And so God, in His grace took me back just like the prodigal son from the parable. Eventually, I got called to teach a Sunday School class. That was twenty-one years ago.

I didn’t get all my questions answered. I never fully understood why my father died when he did. But, let me tell you another story to explain why none of that mattered.

My grandmother went into the hospital with pneumonia. She was in her nineties and in frail health. My cousin, his wife, and I were waiting on the hospital floor when she was brought in a wheel chair to her hospital room. As she was placed in the bed, she turned to me and said, “Why won’t God just let me die?”

I touched her head and looked into her eyes, and said, “Your time will come when God says it is your time. But for now, when Paul asked for his ‘thorn in the flesh to be removed’ God answered him with, ‘My grace is sufficient for you.’ And just as it was for him, God’s grace is sufficient for you, too.” She calmed down and accepted what I said and said, “OK.” My cousin, his wife, and I prayed over her.

That’s the last time I saw her awake. On this side of Paradise, it’s sometimes difficult for us to wrap our heads around the idea that “God rejoices at the death of His saints” because we are so busy grieving the loss of those that we love. And all these years later, I still miss them. But, my father and my grandmother died and went immediately to be with the Lord which is far better than anything that I could imagine.

As a boy, one of the first Bible verses I learned was “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) But, the verse that resonates with me because of my experiences is this one, “God proves His love for us in this, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

What that means is that even when we were God’s “enemies” Christ died for US – God’s enemies! I had been His enemy before I became saved and I was sure His enemy when I walked away from Him. But, He was not content to leave it at that.

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand.” (John 10:27 – 29 NIV)

And so, even I could not snatch myself out of the hand of God.

May God bless you and keep you, too.