Breaking Through

I think that knowing a loved one will be passing away is worse than when they pass away suddenly.
I'll give you my explanation.
We as humans like to think that we are prepared. We like to think that we have it all planned out. This will happen, then we will do this. This will go smoothly.
Sometimes I laugh when I think of the talks that I had with my brother before he passed away.
He was even helping me prepare for this scheduled, planned out, neatly wrapped end that was coming.

The truth is, I was prepared for a thunderstorm. I had a nice waterproof tent, plenty of batteries. Maybe the power would go out. I had candles on hand. Coolers for the food and drinks. I was ready to get through it.

What I was not expecting was the raging tornado that passed right through the fiber of my being.

My nice little yucky day kit was no match for the title wave of emotion, depression and pain that was headed my way.

I say this now looking back on the last 11 months.

I truly am a different person today than I was just a year ago.

Then I start to think of God.

Let me just say, Christians are horrible salespeople.

For my entire life, I looked at God as wanting me to follow him. It was almost as if in my feeble mind I thought he needed me to.

I used to think that my faith was SO strong. Nothing could break my pursuit of God, and His plans for my life.
This is such an easy thing to say and preach, when all is well.

But when the tornado comes, words and assumptions mean absolutely nothing.

The truth is, even if you are an ordained Minister, an Elder at your Church, a Sunday School, teacher, a Small Group Leader, or anything of the sort, things are going to become unbearable. You are not opted out of experiencing the horror of your nightmares coming true.

God is not going to shield you from the tornado. You will be tossed around and your life can be blown into the next county.

You have to accept this. You must.

God doesn't need you to follow him.

You have to choose to follow him. Despite the loss of your loved ones. Despite your financial circumstances. Despite how unfair whatever situation is. Despite how lonely you feel. Despite how much you miss your family. Despite you knowing that God watched as your world was torn apart.

You have to choose to believe that he makes ALL things work together for your good.

Even when you think there is no way possible that he can. Don't worry, God can handle that doubt.

ALL things. The good things AND BAD.

I have found it incredibly hard to worship for the last 11 months. I hate that. I hate that because I love to worship. I can honestly say, the last time I truly let it all out in worship was with my brother, at his bedside, in my Mother's living room. He would pass away a few weeks later.

But then, about a week ago, I came across this particular video. It is a perfect blend of what I needed to hear, and what I needed to say.

Onward,
Steve

You're driving in your car. Listening to music, oblivious to the world around you. You are traveling from where you left, to where you are going. That's the plan.

You're comfortable. You've been headed in this direction for a long time.

But then, there is a flash of lightning.

Rain begins to hit the windshield. Headlights are on all around you.

Then, it happens. You hit a puddle on the road, and you feel the car break loose.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You feel weightless. Your body starts to slide, your weight shifts to the way the car now seems to be floating.

Almost in slow motion, you grab the wheel in terror.

All of a sudden the destination takes a back seat to simply surviving the current situation.

This is a great analogy of my last 8 months here on planet earth.

Even though all of the drivers on my metaphorical road could see the clouds coming on the horizon, none of them, could prepare fully for when the car breaks loose.

The car drifts left. I feel my weight floating to the side. I'm standing in a room looking down at the body of my brother. As I stand there looking down, I realize that this is a very familiar angle for me. One I had seen hundreds of times. All of a sudden I am 7 years old again, leaning off the top bunk, looking down at my brother. It is a painful full circle moment.

The car drifts right. again I feel my weight shifting. I am becoming distant from my wife and kids. All of the wind in my sails is gone. All forward momentum stopped. Can't focus in college. Close friendships strained. People you thought would never hurt or mislead you do so. I am beginning to loose faith in humanity.

The car drifts left again, I am standing in the back of a chapel at a funeral home. My young nephew Nathan, third youngest of my late brother's children spots me from way up front. He grabs his sister Allison, my brother's youngest child, and they run down the aisle and give me a huge hug that nearly knocks me from my kneeling position. I felt so much joy in this moment. Such overwhelming comfort. But this can't be right, I am here to comfort them. We are at the wake of their Mother Heather, my brothers wife, who suddenly passed away. The kids seem mostly unfazed. Their resilience still shocks me.

The truth is, I am still waiting for the wheels to catch their grip. I am beginning to wonder if this is ever going to happen.

I don't know if this is helpful to anyone out there. I sometimes don't know if perhaps I am loosing my mind. But what I do know, is that even when the world feels like it has fallen off it's axis, and is spinning out of control into outer space, you have to keep moving forward. One step, moment, or day at a time.

In the favorite closing word of the best CEO I ever worked under,

Onward,

Steve