The Providence of God
Sunday, June 7, 2009 at 06:41PM A friend of mine recently wrote about his understanding of the ways that God speaks to us and how we discern His will. I loved his thoughts. I remember, as a young Christian girl, how I struggled with this. I remember hearing someone say that they, "Heard the voice of God whisper in their ear". Wow. I wanted that to happen to me. I remember, distinctly, how I waited and after a momentous time of waiting, I felt there must be something wrong with me because I never did "hear" His voice say anything to me. I never gave up hope as I kept reading my Bible, going to church and following Him, but His voice and His will were still mysteries to me.
As I have grown in my faith and in my understanding of who God is and how He reveals himself to us, I came to realize that I may never actually "hear" His voice. With that said, I believe it is possible that He does speak to some people this way. The ways that I do find God speaking to me are complex, situational and multidimensional. Sometimes, it's through the voices of others after I've been in prayer about something. Other times, it's found through scripture. Sometimes it's through music. There are just so many ways that He speaks to me, and I know that it's Him.
Our family went through a spiritual transition that began about three years ago. For the entirety of our marriage, my husband and I had been members and worshiped at the same Christian church my parents attended across town. It was the church I'd grown up in and we enjoyed worshiping with my precious parents, spending Sundays together. As each of our children were born, they were baptized and became active in their youth programs and such. I, too, became quite involved and started teaching Sunday school each week. When our youngest was a baby, I was honored to be elected as an Elder and served for three years. My dad was so proud, as he too was an Elder, and I was the fourth generation in the family to serve in this capacity. It was such a special time to be able to sit next to and serve with my wonderful dad during those three years.
It was during this term as an Elder that I really felt God speaking to me. This church that we attended for 12 years was 30 miles from our home. As we became more active, the commute came at a cost. As the kids began getting older, they found that they were the only ones in their classes not connected to the other kids through school and the local community. Personally, I struggled with a certain blandness, ritual and tradition that made it difficult for me to fully experience God. It is difficult to put into words, but I felt strongly that God's will for my spiritual growth wasn't where I was currently planted. I was hungry but did not feel fed. The feeling wasn't completely new, as little things had gnawed at me over the years, but out of habit and obligation, I remained.
Over the course of many years, I attended weekly Bible studies at local churches closer to home and formed friendships with other Christian moms. As I continued to grow spiritually, to learn and to search, I felt that God was leading me to a church closer to home. It scared me. For a time, I think I ignored Him. How would I tell my parents, who so loved our Sundays together? I spoke to my dad, a strong Christian and follower of Christ, who understood the conflicts I was experiencing and encouraged me to follow God's direction - even if it took us away from them. Soon, I could no longer ignore His whisperings to move on.
I remember the first time we attended the church where we currently worship. It was June 3, 2007. My dad was scheduled to have a relatively minor, routine surgery the next day. He was healthy, active and young. His hospital stay was scheduled to be three days and he was looking forward to having this procedure completed so he could get back to his active life. For reasons that I can only say were nudges from God, my husband and I felt strongly that we should attend this new church within a few miles of our home. It's a huge, dynamic church and we felt so small, so anonymous. This church was alive, with enthusiastic worship and I could feel God's presence. I remember the sermon that morning - about the storms of life. It was a series about how storms will come to us, but with God, we can outlast the storms. My life had been marked with a few small storms, but overall it had been a relatively smooth, joyous journey. I took copious notes during the sermon, something I had never done in church. I distinctly remember how moved I was by the message, but I did not understand why.
The answer came only days later. My father's surgery happened on Monday and I went to see him on Tuesday morning. He was recovering and we had a lovely visit together. I delivered the stack of homemade cards that our kids had made for their beloved Pop Pop. He read each one and smiled. He talked about all that he wanted to do with each of the kids when he got home. He complimented me on what a wonderful mom I was and what a gift I was to him as a daughter. Always the great encourager, there he was in his hospital bed encouraging me. He was in pain, but wanted to walk so that they'd let him go home sooner. We walked slowly around his hospital floor, dragging his IV fluids along with us. We hugged and held hands and I left him to get home to the kids. My mom was there - it was their 43rd wedding anniversary. They spent the day, like every other day, together.
The phone woke me early the next morning. It was my mom. Something was terribly wrong and dad was in emergency surgery. I rushed to the hospital for what would be the longest two days of my life. We waited, we prayed and we never gave up hope that God would let us keep my dad. I went into the hospital chapel in the middle of the night and tearfully wrote my precious dad a letter. I had prayed and spoken words of love to my dad as he lay motionless and asleep in the ICU. How I hoped that he was able to hear all that I was saying to him.
I got on my knees, that night in the chapel, and I prayed the Lord's prayer. It was so hard for me to pray, but I prayed that God's will would be done. Not mine. It was in God's hands and if He wanted to call my dad home, I would graciously accept His will. I knew that God was bigger than the doctors and bigger than the mistake they had made to cause the catastrophe we were facing. I could not bare the thought of losing my precious father, but I also could not tell God what to do. In an instant, I was in the middle of the biggest storm of my life.
On Friday, June 8, 2007 my dad entered Heaven's gates. Oh, how happy he must have been to see his parents and his friends. It was the darkest, coldest day of my life, but I knew it was the beginning of his eternal life with God and heaven came closer that day. The days, weeks and months that followed were terribly difficult for our entire family. My dad was our spiritual leader, our rock and a man so kind, so humble, so loving and special that we could not imagine life without him. No one loved life more than my dad. The void he's left in our lives is huge and the grief that followed can not be measured or explained. But with God's grace, the love, support and compassion of friends and the peace that only He can provide, we continue to heal and move forward.
Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my dad's passing and I woke up this morning with a small feeling of dread. An anniversary like this is not something that is easy to ignore. We still ache for my mom as she bravely faces each new day without her life partner and as we drove to church, the same church God nudged us to attend two years ago, I prayed for peace. I looked into the eyes of my husband and children and knew that my dad would be so very proud of each one of us.
I don't believe in coincidence or fate, but I do believe in the Providence of God. His hand is at work in our lives if only we take time to feel Him. As I sat down and listened to the message this morning, I knew He was speaking to me. The entire service was about Heaven and the magnificent splendor that awaits each one of us who is in Christ. The message, the music and the worship, giving glory to God, were all His handiwork as He mended my broken heart. It wasn't coincidence that the first time I went to this church the message was about surviving the storm. And it isn't fate that two years later, the message was on Heaven.
It's just the way God whispers in my ear.
Reader Comments (8)
Sheila, your blog from sunday just gave me chills!
Lisa, as I sat through the Sunday service I was profoundly moved by God's sovereignty and as I wrote about my experience, all of the raw emotion made tears flood my eyes. I'm glad that the message of God's Providence came through to you in such a powerful way. I know that you feel Him, too.
Sheila,
I could hardly finish reading this blog. As I read it, it was like I was going through the passing of your father with you. Weird, I know! It brought tears to my eyes. You are a powerful writer, especially when it comes to spiritual topics. I, like you, have never really “heard” God speaking directly to me. I always feel a gentle twang of something…..maybe jealousy, disbelief or wonder…….when someone talks about some revelation that they personally received from God. However, the Bible is very clear about the fact that God has revealed Himself to people throughout the ages, and I am sure He continues to do so in today’s world. The Bible is equally clear that God cherishes those who have faith in Him but have never “seen” Him. I will probably be relegated to this group for the rest of my life, but I don’t mind. When I look back over my life, it is so clear to me how much He has had a hand in forming me, saving me, and guiding me. He certainly didn’t promise me that I would not suffer during my lifetime, but He did promise me that my wounds would be His wounds and that He would never leave me. There can be no greater joy than that! My prayers will be with you and your family today. Randall
Thank you, Randall! You are right about being able to see God's hand in molding you, as you've grown up in Him, into the faithful servant that you have become. I believe that going through suffering is another way that He molds us and draws us closer to Him. And yes, there is so much joy in His companionship, which never ends. Many thanks for your prayers today.
Wow. Powerful writing. Many blessings, KC
Thank you, KC. I'm moved by the compliment.
Sheila,
Gary shared your blog site with Carl and I and you are truly a gifted writer. This blog, The Providence of God and your one on Remembering Dad; really hit us. We still so miss your dad and I know each time Carl starts a new class, he misses seeing Buck sitting in the back, smiling and listening intently. Always a man with a ready smile and always asking how everyone in our family is doing -- he is missed greatly. I was thrilled that your mom attended Carl's class this year. Carl told her how much it meant to him to see her there.
Thank you for sharing your most personal thoughts with all through your writing. I will certainly check back often to see how you and your family are doing and what you are up to. I'm so glad you found a church home that has come to mean so much to you.
Joanne
Joanne, Thank you so much for your kind words, they touched my heart in a special way. I'm glad that you enjoy the blog.
I can say that one of my dad's greatest joys was Carl's Bible study class. He loved it! Both of you were extremely special to my dad and I appreciate that you remember him with fond memories. He would be so happy that my mom has enjoyed Carl's class, too.
We miss our dear friends at MV, but we are enjoying worship where we are currently planted and are experiencing the benefits of attending a church in our immediate neighborhood. Many blessings!