Two weeks ago, after losing touch and not seeing each other for over thirty years, my college roommate and I had the grandest reunion in Memphis, Tennessee. We found each other through social media about four months before and after talking on the phone for about hour and a half, catching up, but getting an all too brief outline of each other’s lives, we finally got to see each other again.
Pat (right) and Me
In that initial conversation and after each other sharing highlights of lost years, Pat told me devastating news about her oldest son, Josh. While serving a tour of duty in Afghanistan he sustained terrible injuries that left him a quadriplegic. Shocked and stunned after hearing about what had happened, and what Pat, Josh, and her family had to face in recent years, we hung up promising we would get together soon. That day finally happened. After hugging each other like two long-lost sisters (because we truly are) and reminiscing over those fun college years, we sat face-to-face, and Pat began to quietly tell me, almost as if she were reliving it again, of the day she received the heartbreaking news of what had happened to her eldest son.
She came home that day to find the message light on her home phone blinking. Josh’s tour of duty was soon to be over and knowing that any day, she and her husband, Chit, would get the call telling where and when Josh would arrive, she was not prepared for the devastating news she heard on the other end of the line. Trying unsuccessfully to locate her husband and children, she called anyone she could think of when they didn’t answer their phones. In her efforts to reach her family, the news spread. Soon, neighbors and friends began to arrive and by nightfall her home was full of caring people trying their best to help any way they could.
While not knowing the extensiveness of Josh’s injuries, but knowing they were serious, maybe life threatening, that night, Pat cried herself to sleep waking up three or four times filled with the terrible pain of not knowing. Each time though, before sobbing herself back into forgetfulness, in her heart she heard these words, “I am faithful. And I am always good.” The response in her heart, “I know You’re good, God, I trust You. But how can this be good? How can this be good?”
Josh indeed, almost didn’t make it. For Pat and Chit, those first days were very dark. From Afghanistan, Josh was first sent to Germany. On the flight over to see him for the first time, Pat said all she and Chit could do was clutch each other’s hands tightly. During the year and a half that followed, Josh was in and out of several hospitals, his recovery long and slow. Knowing that life would never be the same again for himself or his family, Josh pressed forward with the same beautiful smile his mama has—Pat always reminded me of Annette Funicello. Josh has gone on to become a real estate developer and motivational speaker helping young people see that though they are encumbered by less than perfect circumstances, they can be who God has made them to be.
Two weeks before I was reunited with Pat, two different friends told me how God had blessed them—something like a new car, a great job; I don’t remember the particulars—but both finished with their heartfelt declaration of “God is so good.” And He is. But what began to roll around in my heart and mind, I quickly jotted down what follows, because just as easily as things come into my head these days, they just as easily leave.
We really don’t have the tiniest inkling of what goodness truly is. We know what it looks like, but we, as humans, cannot understand the depth and the purity of it. Maybe, one day we will….
We hear it all the time, especially when we have been blessed with “good” news. There it is—good. But what about the times when the news is not so wonderful, when it’s not positive or uplifting. Do we say it even then? “My house just fell on my head. God is so good.” “I just got laid off at work. God is so good.” or “I just received bad news from the doctor. God…is…so…good.”
But isn’t He really? Does His goodness change just because our circumstances are not what we want them to be?
Pat and Chit and Josh can answer that. And I know they would say even when things are tough, “Yes, God is good—all the time.” And He is faithful. And true. And loving. Deeply loving.
The question is, do I know that? Will my heart stand when I face life that is less than I think it should be or want? I personally believe that because of the turmoil that the world is in, the unrest and disillusionment felt by our own nation, the times ahead are going to be hard. My prayer for me, for my family, and for everyone is Ephesians 3:14-19.
“For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height—to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.” (NKJV)
Praying that we all will come to trust His love.
Kimberly
Wow! Such encouraging words! (((Hugs))))
This really speaks to my heart. For the past few years I’ve been learning about prayer and blessing and have been grieved at how often we as believers get it wrong. Just listen to the things people ask you to pray for them — most often it’s for safety, “healing,” or material blessings. Now compare that with biblical prayers — for godly character development, for grace in the MIDST of struggle, for boldness to proclaim the gospel. Don’t get me wrong, the Bible does say to pray about everything. It’s okay to ask God for things. But at the same time, understanding that He gives us what we need (which may be strength and grace as we suffer the consequences of our own or other’s sin) not just what we want. And the objective is not our comfort and peace, but God’s glory. Always God’s glory.