 
## It is Well . . .

### By Richard D. McCormack

It Is Well . . .

By Richard D. McCormack

Copyright © 2012 by Richard D. McCormack

Published by RDMc Publishing at Smashwords

Dunsmuir, California 96025

Standard Copyright License

Scripture taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright© 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by the Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other–except for brief quotations in print reviews, without prior written permission of the publisher.

Table of Content

Preface

The call

Questions?!?

June 15, 1984

God's perfect plan

I swear, I didn't do anything!

Does God send or allow suffering?

Sovereignty?

Habakkuk the crier

Twenty years in the making, for joy that almost didn't happen.

God's correction

Horatio G. Spafford

God prepares His people

It started as a twitch

Our situation, our response

My Grace is Sufficient

"God has spoken to me."

Sea billows of peace

It is well. . .

Epilogue

Preface

Where do we begin?

Who among us has not been a student of pain and suffering? Economic status does not shield a person from the pain of loss. Each of us, in our own way, has felt the passing of a loved one, the loss of hope or the agony of conflicts. Some have found relief after a traumatic disruption while others continue to fight for a moment of respite. Some gain strength and insight from the pain, yet others are held captive by the pain and cannot seem to get passed it.

When I was five years old and living in Tucson, Arizona, I contracted hepatitis and almost died. I remember being sick and in much pain, but not anything that scarred me for life. I do remember being bothered by the incident because I was not able to play with my new Christmas toys. Other than that, I got on with my life. My mother, who is a godly woman, did what most mothers do: she cared for me day and night watching and praying. She would hold me in her arms and rock me while nursing me back to health. A few years ago she sat me down on the couch in my parents' living room and told me that when I was a child she knew God had great plans for me. At first I didn't understand what she meant because all my life I have felt "second best" to God, almost like I was an afterthought.

Being the second son of a preacher, it was almost predestined that I would follow in my father's footsteps. I started preaching when I was thirteen (I seemed to have a knack for it). My father nurtured my growth in both preaching and music. I became the music director at my father's church and was known among my peers as "the preacher." However, that is where the "good news" ended as my teenage/young-adult years approached.

I say all of this because my family has been a "living testimony" to surviving struggles. From almost dying at the age of five to having a disabled daughter cruelly abused to living with an incurable, debilitating disease, our family has held up its chin through thick and thin. We have discovered that through all the struggles that have befallen us, God is sovereign.

I first began writing this manuscript as a sermon to preach to a group of people in Irving, Texas, in 1998. God laid the subject of His sovereignty on my heart to relay to this group that was in need of an answer from Him. As the opportunity to share this message expanded, many other tragedies plagued our lives and our nation. Since I began writing this document, we have witnessed much suffering that has come to many congregations throughout the United States, and questions have arisen over the sovereignty of God. Some Christians try to dismiss the suffering and tragedy of others as God's judgment. Others accept them with no concern for the grace of God. Still others claim that suffering is caused by a lack of faith and say that Christians should never suffer because "by His stripes we are healed." These individuals quote Scriptures and use sound-bites like:

"If you just had the faith of a grain of mustard seed."

"If you only believed the entire Bible."

"God is chastising you."

"You are being tested."

"The devil is working on you."

Are these the right answers? Is there a right answer? Can we put our finger on a "God-in-a-box" and say this is the answer to all the questions?

On September 11, 2001, the church where I was pastor was holding revival meetings. Joe Thomas was our evangelist, and the outpouring of grief over the nation was great. Our church had an average attendance of thirty at the time, but that night more than 100 people packed our little church and cried out to God for mercy and peace. Some wanted to know why this had happened. Others knew for sure it was God's judgment on America. Still others believed it was an opportunity for revival to sweep across our nation and then across the world. Whatever the reason, lives were forever changed on that day.

Over the next few months, though, it became obvious that things were settling down and the nation was getting back to normal. Nine-eleven was but a memory, and by the summer of 2002 much of America looked at 9/11 as just an incident, nothing more. "We are resilient," we heard on television, "we always bounce back." We had come full circle. This time many Americans had an attitude of apathy and a lifestyle of complacency to match. But for some, the questions still lingered.

"Where is God?"

"Does He not know what is happening?"

"Was He in control on September 11?"

"Why is God so inconsistent?"

"Is God sovereign?"

In the years since I started writing this manuscript, this nation has suffered many other tragedies. Some of these tragedies have been catastrophic like Hurricane Katrina. Others have been tragic on a smaller scale, such as a drunk driver killing a family's only child. For others, the word "cancer" has invaded their lives. What looms on the horizon is anybody's guess, but you will see that in the midst of these storm-tossed waves, God is sovereign.

This idea is not new to Christendom or the biblical worldview. Many examples of this motif of the sovereignty of God are played out in the Bible. Job is a good example as is the life of King David. Both had a unique understanding that demonstrated a part of God's sovereignty. I must admit that I love the story of Habakkuk. Habakkuk has been called a modern-day prophet because of the similarity of the circumstances in his day to the times we live in today, not so much the ruthless overthrow of a nation—as was apparent with the Chaldeans—but the attitude of the people.

This book is a humble endeavor to help people find peace during their hour of struggles. I believe everyone can find a place of new beginnings. Whether the struggle is physical, emotional, relational or anything else, I believe these stories from my family's life will help shed some light on how God cares for us as the sovereign Lord.

Perhaps nothing about my family and our struggles are unique, and some of the stories in this book you may have heard before, but they are worth examining again. God's love and grace have been poured out to me and my family through the years, as His grace and love are available to all who will receive it. However, if one thing in this book could be classified as unique, it would be a family that recognizes the sovereignty of God. Why is that unique? Well . . .

Richard D. McCormack

Dunsmuir, California

March 2, 2010

The Call

"If you want to see your daughter alive, you will be in Redding, California, within twenty-four hours," said a voice on the other end of the phone. "She is not expected to live."

So direct and poignant were the words spoken to me by a social worker from Shasta County Child Protective Services in Redding that I was taken back and almost did not comprehend what was being said.

"Your daughter has been severely abused—both physically and sexually—by your ex-wife and her live-in boyfriend," she continued. "She has massive head trauma and at this time is unable to see because of the bleeding in her head."

I stood there in shock, paralyzed and numb. Surely she had called the wrong phone number, I thought. This only happens to other people.

The social worker continued to describe the events that transpired in bringing my only child, Tara, to the emergency room in Redding.

"We believe the abuse has been going on for months," she said. "Your daughter was brought into the emergency room because she had stopped breathing. As an examination was performed, the nurses on duty found bruising on her body including her vaginal area. She is not responding to any stimuli."

My mind had stopped processing what the social worker was saying. Tara was just a little over fifteen months old and still in diapers. Her mother had divorced me for another man when Tara was just four months old. I would like to say that we tried to work out our differences, but I would be lying. We played the visitation/child support game for a few months, but it was getting harder and harder for me to take Tara for scheduled visitation periods. Many times I would be told, "She's got a cold," or "We will be out of town."

The worst thing of all was when no one would answer the door when I went to pick Tara up.

We played this game up until Tara's biological mother remarried just twelve days after our divorce was finalized. It seemed slightly quick but not surprising. She married the man for whom she had left me. What was most surprising, however, was that she ran off with her new husband's best man just seven days after the wedding. This was unexpected. I only heard about it because her new husband knocked on my door a few days later and asked if I had seen his wife. He told me about the events that had transpired and said that she and Tara had been gone for a week. This obviously caused me great concern. A report was filed with the sheriff's office by her new husband, and their whereabouts were under investigation by the district attorney's office, though the district attorney seemed more interested in dealing with the matter of the welfare payments she was receiving. My biggest concern was for my daughter not to become just another missing child statistic.

As the social worker continued with the details, I wanted to scream out to her, "Stop! How could anyone do this to a child—to my child?"

What was the world coming to?

I remember thinking to myself at that point, "Why, God?"

Questions?!?

As a pastor and minister, I have been heartbroken at the seasons of grief and loss in the lives of many of my parishioners and friends. Suffering and sorrow are the hardest part of pastoring for me. I have seen good, godly men and women lose everything they owned because of good and bad decisions, natural catastrophes, vengeful people and other means. I have seen the death of a child that has so devastated a family that the parents were unable to perform basic routines—even to this day. I have seen tragedies that have left families with a huge "cross" to bear and burdens that only God could see them through. Sometimes entire communities have been devastated by natural catastrophes such as when tornadoes ripped through Moore, Oklahoma, and Jarrell, Texas. In the case of Jarrell meteorologists have tried to explain how a mesoscale convective complex stalled over central Texas and spawned twenty confirmed tornadoes. The strongest, an F-5, which obliterated the suburb of Jarrell and killed twenty-seven people of its 1,319 residents. Some believe this natural phenomena should never have taken place, yet they did. It is sometimes so shocking that even I have wondered, "Where is God?"

Often I am left with the same question the psalmist asked, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Many times, others ask the same question; questions I have no answers for; questions which will haunt people for years. I search for words to offer the hurting, yet most often it is of no avail, and they are left picking up the pieces. It breaks my heart to see couples come to the end of the road and make the decision to call it quits. Divorce is such an ugly word. I so much want to have an answer when a strong, 240 pound man—who could rip my head off if he so desired—does nothing more than fall on my shoulder and cry like a baby while struggling to ask questions I wish I had answers for.

Why is this happening to me? Why is God out to destroy me? Why, why, WHY?

All I can do is hold him, cry with him, and sometimes ask the same questions.

As I write this, I can hear the sobbing echoes of many whom I have been with during their times of crisis and need. They shed tears of anguish as they asked more impossible questions.

Why did she have to die?

Why am I suffering?

Why did my marriage break up?

How can I fix this?

Why did he leave?

Why was I spared?

Why must I have this disease?

What did I do wrong?

Why is God after me?

Why, why, WHY?

It is at these times I find myself searching for answers, begging God to help me explain to the hurting what He was doing, wishing I was a good father who could kiss the boo-boos and make the hurt go away. At times like these I am the father watching my children suffer in their pain and agony.

Today, I spend much of my time reading books and articles, talking with other ministers, studying counseling, and any other means to help prepare me for the tough questions these crises always produce.

Why do wicked people in this world continue to prosper while God's children continue to suffer?

Is God fair and just?

Why is God so unconcerned?

Does God not care what happens to His children?

Is it my lot in life to be punished for something I did twenty years ago?

In his book The Cross of Christ, John R. W. Stott addresses the issue of suffering. In his opening statement in Chapter 13, "Suffering and Glory," he writes,

_The fact of suffering undoubtedly constitutes the single greatest challenge to the Christian faith, and has been in every generation. Its distribution and degree appear to be entirely random and therefore unfair. Sensitive spirits ask if it can possibly be reconciled with God's justice and love_ (p. 311).

Sometimes people tell me they could never follow a God who sends sorrow and suffering on His people, a God who is so cruel He allows a precious child to die a horrible death yet at the same moment will allow a wicked man to have a prosperous and fruitful life. How could anyone trust a God who causes so much suffering? they ask. Without condoning or giving a direct answer to this question, I believe it is valid to see how a person could come to this type of view toward God.

J. I. Packer in his book Knowing God, writes:

_A certain type of ministry of the gospel is cruel. It does not mean to be, but it is. It means to magnify grace, but what it does is rather the opposite. It scales down the problem of sin, and loses touch with the purpose of God. The effect is twofold: first, to depict the work of grace as less than it really is; second, to leave people with a gospel that is not big enough to cover the whole area of their needs... What kind of ministry is this? The first thing to say is that, sad as it may seem, it is an evangelical ministry._ (p. 221).

This is the answer that leaves us with so many questions. This is the answer that Packer explains by saying most ministries will play up the good side of the Christian walk and play down the suffering side of the same. This does not give a complete or accurate picture of the gospel.

Packer continues:

_But it is possible to stress them [the gospel], and so to play down the rougher side of the Christian life—daily chastening, the endless war with sin and Satan, the periodic walk in darkness —as to give the impression that normal Christian living is a bed of roses, a state of affairs in which everything in the garden is lovely all the time, and problems no longer exist— or if they come, they have only to be taken to the throne of grace, and they will melt away at once._ (p. 222)

Is this the gospel? Is the average Christian to believe that Christian living is suppose to be a bed of roses, which is taught by so many. Is the gospel, as Packer described, so one-sided and evangelical ministry so absolute in its understanding of suffering that the world is right and God is cruel?

Whether we are on the suffering side trying to rationalize within ourselves what has happened or we are on the good side trying to find words to comfort those who are hurting and broken, we are still inundated with the same ultimate question: Why does God allow suffering and sorrow? It is the first question that comes out of our mouths and hearts during those tough times. It is the same question that continues to plague us even after the tragedy has ended. We search for answers and sometimes, like Job, to no avail, we ask why?

In our search we might not find complete answers to these personal questions, but to work through the Scriptures to find God in these trying times is possible. So to start our trek we must ask the basic question: Does God send or allow suffering and sorrow? To answer that, I must first relay a story.

June 15, 1984

The day I received the call from Shasta County Child Protective Services was June 15, 1984. I was working at ClayTex Trophies in Henrietta, Texas, during my summer break from college. I was trying to move on with my life after my wife left me with our child. The district attorney's office told me they would notify me when, an if, they found any information. I was not hopeful. There was nothing I could do except wait.

That day started out like all the rest. I worked in the woodshop and was put at a station sanding trophy bases. Everything was progressing normally until about 2:00 in the afternoon one of the secretaries came out to the shop and told me that I had a phone call. That was rather unusual.

As the conversation unfolded over the phone, I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to get to Redding, California? At the time, I was driving a beat-up 1971 Ford Maverick that had failing breaks and was a gas guzzler at best. The tires were so bald that you could see the belts in the tread. To make matters worse, I had no money, period.

When I hung up the phone I was crying. Other workers asked me what was wrong, but being the immature young man that I was, I didn't respond. I tried to continue working, but I couldn't focus, and in a woodworking shop, focus is a must. I broke down a couple of times thinking about how lousy a father I had been for giving up, but what was I to do? I wasn't a private investigator. I started feeling sorry for myself thinking that no one cared; it was my problem, not theirs. Sure, people were polite to my face, but in the darkness I still felt alone.

I started thinking about borrowing money from somebody and driving to Redding, but who would I borrow from and where would I stay? How long would it take to get there? What was I going to do? I was overwhelmed with grief and with my situation. As I sat at my station pondering my situation, an office secretary came out to the woodshop and told me the owner wanted to see me. This too was unusual. He was a nice man, but we hardly ever saw each other.

I remember entering his office as he greeted me at the door. He ushered me to a chair in front of his desk and then sat down in the chair behind his desk.

"Richard, I know who called you," he began. "And if you don't want to tell me what's going on, I understand, but if I can help. . ." His words hung in the air waiting for a response, but all I could do was weep.

The sentences came out slowly as I struggled to speak. At first they were gasps and broken gibberish. The words eventually came, but only in the midst of sobs. Here sat a nineteen-year-old boy facing a crisis well beyond his years. No parent should hear those words, much less a teenage parent. My sobs and anguish filled the conversation, but so did grace.

Picking up his phone, the owner called his secretary and told her to call the airlines and book a round trip flight for me to California, making sure the return date was left open. I knew I needed help, but this was way beyond what I could afford. I stopped him in mid-sentence and told him that I did not have any money, to which he said, "I'm paying for this."

I didn't know what to say. I really didn't know the people at ClayTex Trophies very well. I had only worked there a few months and was still on a ninety day probation. I had not earned any generosity from the staff, much less the owner whom I hardly knew. I was shocked at how this man I hardly knew was being so generous to me. Yet I was grateful that God was using one of His servants to meet my needs; even though in my shock I was not able to respond to God.

Today I think back on the events that transpired and I can see God's sovereign hand in all of it, from sending me home for summer break to leading me to the job at the trophy factory. God in His sovereign grace put everything in motion even before the abusive tragedy took place.

I can hardly describe the agony of those hours while I waited for a ride to the airport. The flight was one of those weird connections where I had to fly out of Oklahoma City to connect with a flight out of Dallas/Fort Worth International (D/FW) to fly to San Francisco then on to Redding, California. It would have been easier and faster for me to drive to D/FW and fly direct to San Francisco, but this is what the airlines had available, and it almost spelled disaster.

Only after arriving at the Oklahoma City airport, I felt that I was not going to make it on time. Things always seem to go wrong in times of great struggles. And with my luck I should have known something else was about to happen. Finding my gate at Will Rogers International Airport in Oklahoma City was not difficult. I, along with my parents, arrived about an hour-and-a-half early. We went through the usual hassles of finding a parking space and then waiting in line to check in. No words were exchanged, just preoccupied silence. I made my way to the counter and received my ticket, and then we maneuvered to the gate. It was not until I arrived at the gate that the next predicament unfolded.

As we were about to board, the attendant called me to the counter. There was a glitch in my ticket and I was not going to make the flight to D/FW. Missing the flight also meant I would miss the flight to San Francisco, which meant missing the only flight into Redding from San Francisco for the day. After all that had happened, this moment at the boarding counter seemed surreal. At that moment I realized I would now miss the last moments of my daughter's life, all because of a misplaced digit on a ticket that showed my seat was filled. Once again I heard the words of the social worker echoing in my mind.

"If you want to see your daughter alive, you will be in Redding, California, within 24 hours. She is not expected to live."

My heart ached more than I had ever known. I knew at that moment I was going to Redding only to bring back the body of my precious little girl. I remember feeling numb as I stood there at the counter. The stress overwhelmed me and I couldn't take it another moment. I was truly overwhelmed physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I watched the gate agent check in the other passengers onto the plane as I waited to the side. Mom and Dad tried to assure me that I was going to make it in time, but to me, hope had run out. After the last passenger boarded and the plane taxied away from the gate, the agent came back to the counter to address my needs. Calmly and almost hypnotically, I explained to the agent the events that had transpired over the previous 12 hours.

The attendant naturally was shocked by the story and quickly went to work. He started calling the other carriers frantically trying to rearrange my schedule. I knew he felt responsible, but it really wasn't his fault. Fortunately after a few minutes he was printing me a new ticket for a flight that would board a few gates away.

"Sir," he said, "I could not get you to Redding today through San Francisco, so I booked you on another flight to D/FW, this time with a connecting flight to Los Angles, which will connect to a flight into Redding putting you there one hour earlier than the San Francisco flight."

God was in control, and He had a plan.

God's perfect plan

I have to stop here and reiterate the lesson I learned about God's sovereignty and how His plans come to fruition. The Bible says in Isaiah 25:1,

I will exalt You, I will give thanks to Your name;

For You have worked wonders,

Plans formed long ago, with perfect faithfulness.

When I think back to that day at ClayTex Trophy, I remember having lots of questions run through my mind. Questions like: Where was I going to stay? How was I going to survive? How was I going to eat? Things like that. I had a little money that my coworkers in the shop had pooled together, and I knew no one who lived in Redding, but God is sovereign.

Many years before, God had moved my aunt Wanda and uncle Warnell on my father's side out to California to a place called Cottonwood, a small town about 15 miles south of Redding. I had not seen them since I was probably six years old. When I got off the plane in Redding, they were there and welcomed me into their lives just like a son. When you think things can't get any better, God surprises you.

This might seem like jumping to the end of the story, but it is important to demonstrate God's perfect plan coming to fruition, for this story is not one of hopelessness, but of hope.

When Tara was preparing to leave the hospital months later, she had to have a stable home to go to. She became a ward of the state and thus would have to go into foster care until we could establish permanent placement with me. There were complications with foster care. Because of the care Tara needed and her response to me in the hospital, the doctor placed an order that I be her caregiver even though that contradicted the state's procedure. Once again God proved He is still in control. Years before this tragedy took place, my aunt and uncle became foster parents in Shasta County. This fact satisfied the state's condition, so the court decided to release Tara into my custody as long as I remained at my aunt and uncle's house since they were registered foster parents. Tara was cared for; I was able to be her caregiver; and my aunt and uncle were reimbursed by the state for our stay.

Are not God's plans perfect and orchestrated before they are needed?

I swear I didn't do anything!

When my plane arrived in Redding I was greeted at the gate by my aunt Wanda and uncle Warnell... and my ex-wife. I didn't know what to say. I was confused and livid at the thought of what this woman and her boyfriend had done to our child. I had not seen my aunt and uncle since I was six years old. You can imagine the emotions I was feeling toward my ex-wife. Let's just say they weren't pleasant.

We forced small talk as we drove to the hospital, but only enough to break the tension. When we arrived at the hospital, I wasn't sure what to expect. It seemed to take forever to get to the Intensive Care Unit. The elevator ride was the longest elevator ride I had ever taken, and we only went from the first floor to the third floor where the ICU was located. Time crawled by and everything seemed to go in slow motion, but soon the elevator doors opened and I bolted quickly toward the ICU doors. A nurse at the desk stopped me and asked if she could help. I told her I was looking for my daughter, and right away I could tell she knew who I was. Her face went flush and her demeanor changed. She struggled for words as her lips quivered. Without looking away she motioned to her right and said, "She is in bed four." My eyes followed her finger as she pointed across the unit. I hurried to the small area unprepared for what I was about to see.

The area was small; just large enough for one bed. There were several monitors in room with wires and tubes that seemed to go everywhere. It reminded me of a Frankenstein novel. As I approached bed four, I saw a sight that even today makes me gasp for air. In the middle of the monitors and equipment there was a small bed, and in the center of the bed was a small child—my child—with tubes and wires attached to various parts of her body.

Tara was silent, and the room was silent, save for the single, soft rhythmic beat of the heart monitor. A single IV line was attached at her ankle. Large areas of her little body were black and blue from the beating she had taken. Perhaps the most monstrous sight was watching Tara—lying on her back, her empty eyes staring aimlessly into the air— as she slowly pulled out the hair on the right side of her swollen head. The nurse said she was pulling out her hair because she was in so much pain that her body could not process it. Pulling the hair on her right side was due to the blunt force trauma she endured on that side of her head. Her brain had swollen so much it was pushing against the cranium, and apparently she was trying to relieve the pain by pulling out her hair. The nurse said Tara had literally given up.

I leaned down to get as close as I could to my little girl. My heart was aching so bad that I reached out to hold her hand. I told myself that I had to stop her from the abuse she was doing to herself. In spite of my two-day growth of stubble, I took her tiny hand and brought it to my face. As her hand touched my face, I said, "It's okay, Daddy's here."

At that instant my heart sank as Tara began to cry out like she had cried out as a baby. I tried to comfort her by cooing and speaking softly to her, but she continued to scream. Several nurses ran into the room to see what had happened. I stepped back from the bed to give the nurses room, and one nurse asked, "What did you do?" Her tone seemed accusing.

"Nothing!" I exclaimed. "All I did was touch her hand to my face and say, 'Daddy's here.' I swear that's all I did."

Tara continued to scream as I sank back into a corner. Soon a doctor came into the room pulling his stethoscope from around his neck. As he passed in front of me with what I thought was an accusative glare, I had taken all I could, so I rushed out of ICU into the hall. I sat down in a chair by the elevators wishing I knew what to do. Here I was a nineteen-year-old kid from a small Podunk town in Oklahoma, completely unsure of what I had done wrong and what I should do. I wished I could make that day disappear. I felt like the weight of the world rested on my shoulders. A few moments went by and then the doctor came out in the hall directly toward me with a nurse trailing behind.

"Mr. McCormack, I'm the doctor on call. Could you please tell me what you did?"

I could still hear Tara screaming before the doors closed, her voice echoing out of the unit into the hallway. I tried to calm down to explain what I did, but it felt like everyone was against me. I had not seen my child for six months, and now to have her screaming at me when I simply touched her hand. I remember thinking, "God, you are so unfair."

I finally answered, "I swear, all I did was pick up her hand and touch it to my face and say, 'Daddy's here.' That is all I did!"

Then the doctor said something that shocked me. Turning to the nurse, he began barking orders. "I want Mr. McCormack placed in that room with his daughter. Give him everything he needs. Help him as much as he needs, but let him care for his daughter."

Huh? I was taken back. I tried to calm down and sniff back my runny nose. I was confused. I didn't understand what had just happened. I thought I had hurt Tara.

"I don't understand," I said to the doctor.

As the nurse went back into the unit, the doctor turned to me and said, "I don't want to get your hopes up, but your daughter now has a fighting chance to live."

I looked at him without understanding. I learned over time that Tara was not fighting to live. She had suffered so much trauma from the only source of care that she knew that she had given up and had no desire to live. When I arrived, some small part of her, deep within her, recognized me as we made contact. At that moment she began to fight to live. The problem was, with her new determination to survive came the realization of all the pain.

At first the pain caused uncontrollable crying. Outbursts of pure agony punctuated the first few days. Medication was the only thing that made her sleep, but that brought about uncontrollable jerks and twitching that were hard to watch.

For weeks we stayed in ICU, and then she improved enough to be moved into a private room. Tara was treated like royalty by the staff. For six more weeks she had to rest at a 30 degree angle. The beating she had endured to her head caused massive bleeding in her eyes. Instead of surgery, the doctors opted for a slow drainage of the blood from her eyes. It hurt my heart to see Tara flinch when someone would enter her room. For almost two months Tara could not see anything.

My precious Tara eventually made a remarkable recovery, but because of the trauma, she only has use of ten percent of the right side of her brain, giving her an IQ of 50-55—on a good day. This causes her to function on the level of an eight to twelve year old. Some days this can be challenging, but other days it is really rewarding. Like today when she came to me and told me how many days were left until her twenty-seventh birthday. Keep in mind, her birthday is still more than three months away, or as she says, "Daddy, there are only 98 days 'til my birthday." Then she hands me a handwritten list of what she wants for her birthday.

God is good.

Does God Send or Allow Suffering?

There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job; and that man was blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil. . . Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came among them.

The Lord said to Satan, "From where do you come?"

Then Satan answered the Lord and said, "From roaming about on the earth and walking around on it."

The Lord said to Satan, "Have you considered My servant Job? For there is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, fearing God and turning away from evil.

Job 1:1-8

Commentators differ on the reasoning behind why God "pointed out" Job to Satan. Some say it was an honorable position to suffer for God. Others say it was well worth Job's suffering to expose the fallacy of Satan. Still others, however, say it was cruel of God, and they pseudo-title the book "The Cruel God." Whatever the case may be, the fact is that even though Job was considered a righteous man even by God's standards (Job 1:1), God gave him over to Satan for testing.

Why? What purpose was there in a good man suffering?

As Job's trials advanced, one point that must not be overlooked is that Job was not present at the council meeting that took place in heaven. Job did not know Satan was testing him at the bequest of God. Even at the end of the book, God did not give Job a reason for the trials. No account was given. No explanation was extended. No counsel was offered, merely a statement, "I am God!"

In the New Testament, early church leaders found themselves in a similar position of suffering. Yet, it was quite different. Unlike Job, who did not know why he was suffering, the early church fathers knew full well what they were suffering for. They knew the warnings and threats. They knew that proclaiming the name of Jesus threatened their very lives.

They took his [Gamaliel] advice; and after calling the apostles in, they flogged them and ordered them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and then released them.

Acts 5:40

And on that day a great persecution began against the church in Jerusalem, and they were all scattered throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles. Some devout men buried Stephen, and made loud lamentation over him. But Saul began ravaging the church, entering house after house, and dragging off men and women, he would put them in prison.

Acts 8:1-3

However, like stated earlier, it was not as if they did not know they would suffer. Years before these event were recorded in The Acts of the Apostles, Jesus predicted the suffering His church would endure through an endless barrage of violence that would besiege it.

From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and violent men take it by force.

Matthew 11:12

What Jesus said in this statement from the Gospel of Matthew is still true today—violence plagues the church. If the American readers of this book don't believe it, ask a Christian from many other countries if it's true. It is as true today as it was during the days of the first church.

Why would God allow His newly established church, His very first church, His bride to suffer so much in its infancy? Why not later when the church had become stronger?

Then there is Stephen, a man "full of faith and power, [who] did great wonders and signs among the people" (Acts 6:8). He was taken by the Sanhedrin (the religious leaders of the Jews) and falsely accused of blasphemy against the temple. This crime, to the Jews, deserved the death penalty, so he was taken outside the temple and stoned in front of the people. People actually picked up rocks and threw them at Stephen until he was dead. The word stoning sounds so emotionless, so sterile. Yet most stonings were done by a mob of men in front of women and children.

And they stoned Stephen as he was calling on God and saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' Then he knelt down and cried out with a loud voice, 'Lord, do not charge them with this sin.'

Acts 7:59-60

Oh the violence and suffering the early church fathers endured. It makes us wonder why? Why does God send or allow suffering? However, theese, as well as many other events in the early church, were direct acts of the people. It is obvious the stoning was not physically done by God, nor were the floggings of the apostles. These acts were carried out by ungodly men who were nothing more than a worldly group which perceived itself as a religious order. But what about when God is the one who is directly responsible for the suffering?

As He passed by, He saw a man blind from birth. And His disciples asked Him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?"

Jesus answered, "It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him.

John 9:1-3

There are some who insist that sickness and suffering are connected to a person's faith or sin. Some proclaim, "God wants everyone to be healed." Therefore, this man who was blind from birth was blind because of sin or lack of faith. Since he did not know that there was a "Son of Man" (John 8:35-38) to believe in, then the blindness had to be because of sin. Not only that, but since he was blind from birth, as the disciples pointed out, the sin had to be his parents'. Yet Jesus identified that it was for another reason that this man was born blind (which we will discuss later).

So, what about this man born blind? How does his story affect us? Does this story have a direct correlation to children and parents today? Some parents do believe that their children's problems are their fault. When Tara ended up in the hospital at 15 months old, I remember asking God, what did I do to cause this? I wondered what sin I had committed that my daughter had to suffer for. Despite the fact that there are causes, choices, and actions that lead to birth defects, it does not mean that a child has defects or handicaps because of the parent's sin. One does not necessarily have to do with the other. Yes, some sins can and do lead to sickness and suffering in children such as drug abuse and promiscuity, but just because a child is born with cerebral palsy does not mean the parents were sinning.

In the face of all this, this man who was born blind is in the full design of God's perfect and sovereign plan. God's sovereign glory was demonstrated when the man was healed of his blindness. Yet, even in this great moment in his life he faced the ridicule and torment of the Sanhedrin. What a life. On the one hand God was glorified by relieving this man of his blindness, yet on the other, why would God do this? However, the activity of God in suffering does not seem to end there; for there are some whom the Bible records are chosen to suffer.

If you know much about the Apostle Paul, you know he was a man who faithfully served God. But because of such service and devotion, God chose Paul to suffer. Yes, I did say "chose."

At first Paul was a Christian accuser (or killer) who was struck blind by Jesus on the road to Damascus. He was then taken to Damascus where Ananias, who was a faithful follower of Jesus, was told by Jesus to go and witness to Paul. Jesus told Ananias that Paul was a chosen vessel and that Jesus "will show him how much he must suffer for My name's sake" (Acts 9:16). Later, Paul taught that suffering—presumably by Christians—"produces endurance or perseverance" which leads to hope or trust (Romans 5:3-4). God even told Paul that his suffering with a "thorn in the flesh" was in God's will but that His grace was sufficient (2 Corinthians 12:7-9). Does this demonstrate that God causes suffering? Is God sovereign? If so, how?

We also must conclude that part of the reason God allows suffering is for the sake of testing and discipline. Like Job, suffering was not only to prove God's sovereignty; it was also used as a test for Job. Nonetheless, what was even more troubling and prevalent in the Bible was the suffering God's people endured because they would not turn to Him.

"I brought hunger to every city and famine to every town. But still you wouldn't return to me," says the LORD. "I kept the rain from falling when you needed it the most, ruining all your crops ... But still you wouldn't return to me," says the LORD. "I struck your farms and vineyards with blight and mildew. Locusts devoured all your fig and olive trees. But still you wouldn't return to me," says the LORD. "I sent plagues against you like the plagues I sent against Egypt long ago. I killed your young men in war and slaughtered all your horses. The stench of death filled the air! But still you wouldn't return to me," says the LORD. "I destroyed some of your cities, as I destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. Those of you who survived were like half burned sticks snatched from a fire. But still you wouldn't return to me," says the LORD.

Amos 4:6-11 (NLT)

Does God send sorrow and suffering? It seems He does. Nonetheless, sorrow and suffering is an invasion into God's good work and has no part in His creative order. God created a perfect order which the ugliness of sin invaded and brought with it suffering. At the same time, suffering is not always understood. It is more often misunderstood. J. I. Packer writes that suffering is used by God to mature His children, whereas John R. W. Stott feels that suffering as pain (physical and emotional) allows us to function in a fallen society. Suffering, is often misunderstood. Suffering is not of the natural created order, yet it is used by God. One has to wonder that if man had not fallen, would there still be a degree of suffering such as pain and death through accidents. Suffering is still suffering, whether accidental or intentional.

Back to our original question—"Does God send or allow sorrow and suffering?—it appears the answer is yes and no.

It is obvious that God sends sorrow and suffering on His children as well as those who are in rebellion against Him. Nonetheless, finding the answer to the reason for the sorrow is not always clear. For Job it meant fourteen years of sorrow before God restored him. For the blind man it meant he could see, but only after years of being blind. For Paul and the Apostles it meant persecution and death. For the children of Israel, in the days of Amos, it was a horror which they brought on themselves.

Some theologians make lists for the reasons for suffering. They show how suffering can be retributive or punitive. Suffering can be disciplinary, as a sonship of God (Hebrews 12:7-8). Suffering can be probationary in the form of testing. It can be revelational in that God's purpose and nature are manifested vicariously or substitutionarily in the death of Christ. It can be a testimony through being obedient to God, as were Stephen, Paul, Peter and most of the other apostles who were tortured and martyred. Finally, suffering simply can be eschatological, or brought about because of the "Last Days," due to the time and the season (Systematic Theology 1, James Leo Garrett, p. 391, 392).

Whatever the reasons sorrow and suffering still happen and the echos of the questions, from the people who are suffering, continue to ring out.

What does this mean to me?

How does this effect me today?

Which one of these reasons explains why am I suffering?

Can I find answers to my suffering?

If I can find an answer, or if I cannot, what do I do then?

Sovereignty?

Sovereignty is not a word most people are familiar with. We understand some of its meaning, yet the concept today is far removed from our lives and vocabulary. Think back to the last time you used the word sovereign or a synonym that described an idea related to the concept. You might have likened the discussion in regards to a sovereign nation or sovereign state. Even that usage is limited today because sovereign states are influenced by their surroundings and are not truly sovereign.

The actual definition of sovereignty is "the quality of having supreme independent authority—absolute rule." Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines sovereignty as: "supreme power especially over a body politic: freedom from external control. Sovereignty is absolute, whether in rule or authority."

To some theologians, sovereignty is only true in the genre of salvation. It is seen in the choosing power of God over the freewill of man. One example comes from an excellent article by John MacArthur entitled, God's Absolute Sovereignty, in which MacArthur begins:

No doctrine is more despised by the natural mind than the truth that God is absolutely sovereign. Human pride loathes the suggestion that God orders everything, controls everything, rules over everything. The carnal mind, burning with enmity against God, abhors the biblical teaching that nothing comes to pass except according to His eternal decrees.

MacArthur's article begins by addressing the rule and absolute sovereignty of God. Yet it quickly reverts to the roll of God's sovereignty in salvation and grace.

Most of all, the flesh hates the notion that salvation is entirely God's work. If God chose who would be saved, and if His choice was settled before the foundation of the world, then believers deserve no credit for their salvation.

(http:www.gty.org/Resources/Articles/A167_Gods-Absolute-Sovereignty?q=Sovereignty, February 15, 2010).

Although MacArthur's article was written as a discussion about God's absolute sovereignty in salvation, I believe the article contributes toward the general argument that we do not grapple with God's absolute sovereignty in life. We leave sovereignty to the area of salvation and freewill to the extent of day-to-day living.

So how should we deal with God's absolute sovereignty? How does it impact our day-to-day life?

It is not necessary to argue the certainty that God created all things. Nor is it necessary to argue the fact that God has the right to control what He created. These are not in contention. I believe these are settled issues. The issue of God's absolute authority and sovereignty deals with the attitude and heart of His creation—man.

After working in the church for some 30-plus years talking to both churched and unchurched people about Jesus, the role of sovereignty in the Christian life comes down to two elements: 1) Man wants God for salvation, not to be governed; 2) We are motivated by what we can get, not by whose we are. These two elements hinder the attitude and heart of Christians toward God's sovereignty, and I believe they are directly linked to the detriment of the modern church.

Man wants God for salvation, not to be governed. That is a key view in this discourse. In the 1970s and 80s, a number of "soul winning" methods and programs came to the forefront at the average Christian church. The methods were simple; lay evangelists would go door to door asking people if they were a Christian. In the process of the interview the team would direct the conversation to the meat of the subject by asking if they wanted to go to heaven or hell. If they responded that they wanted to go to heaven, the program was simply to have the person pray a prayer and tell them they were now eternally guaranteed to go to heaven. I know this is an oversimplification; but to the average baby boomer or baby buster, the answer was uncomplicated. It was a business decision for them. They thought, "All I have to do is pray a prayer and I go to heaven." It was a no-brainer, so they prayed. We would, of course, invite them to come to church, but statistics showed that well over 85 percent of the people who prayed "the prayer" never came to church. Why? Because they did what they were told they needed to do to be saved, and there was no need for anything more. Their goal was reached, both for the lay evangelist and the one praying "the prayer."Going to church produced no further benefit for the boomer or buster.

Today this attitude of "no need for anything more" has rolled over into the average Christian church. Christian pollster George Barna, The Pew Forum, the Gallup organization and other research organizations have found that the average "church-going" Christian believes he does his Christian duty by going to church on Sunday, or at best twice a year. For many "good" Christians, giving their tithe, attending Sunday morning Bible study and worshiping God in big church are all they believe they need do. It is becoming more and more difficult to discuss the essence of discipleship when everyone either is "giving all they can" or looking for a checklist to follow. They miss the idea of discipleship altogether.

The other reason why man does not see God as sovereign is because we do the modern Christian things. Or to put it undiplomatically, we are motivated by what we can get, not by whose we are. It is our natural western philosophy: work hard, earn more—that motivates us. We are motivated by rewards. Very few people do things in service to others. Instead, we were taught to work hard because of what we can get: "This is what will give you satisfaction and comfort." It is true, we do have need of some things such as money, houses, transportation, insurance, etc. But our philosophy of how we acquired those items bleeds over into our Christian ideals. We become driven by rewards and selfish motives than because we are servants of the King.

Our motivation should not be about rewards or what God will do to us, nor should it be because of the possibility of punishment. The reason we should follow Jesus is because He is our sovereign—our King. We have forgotten we are bought with a price (1 Corinthians 6:20). We are not our own. When we receive Jesus we forfeit all rights and we yield our lives over to Jesus. Is not that what Paul explained to the Galatians when he wrote,

I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.

Galatians 2:20

Or to the Ephesians,

For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.

Ephesians 2:10

In 1917 Thomas O. Chisholm published a hymn entitled, Living for Jesus. Historically speaking, Chisholm didn't write this piece out of some tragedy or unusual circumstance. He merely recognized the awesome sovereignty of God. Later Chisholm went on to write more than 1,000 poems, of which 800 were published including the timeless favorite, Great is Thy Faithfulness.

It is in the hymn Living for Jesus that Chisholm captured the needed essence of man's attitude toward the sovereignty of God.

Living for Jesus, a life that is true,

Striving to please Him in all that I do;

Yielding allegiance, glad-hearted and free,

This is the pathway of blessing for me.

O Jesus, Lord and Savior,

I give myself to Thee,

For Thou, in Thy atonement,

Didst give Thyself for me.

I own no other Master,

My heart shall be Thy throne.

My life I give, henceforth to live,

O Christ, for Thee alone.

Why does this idea of sovereignty make a difference? Simply put, attitude is everything. It is how we respond. If God does not have full control of our lives as sovereign Lord, then all He has is part of us—and to God, part is nothing. He will not take second place. That is why He gave us the commandments:

You shall have no other gods before Me.

You shall not make for yourself an idol, or any likeness of what is in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the water under the earth. You shall not worship them or serve them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God,

Exodus 20:3-5

God is sovereign. If we share the throne of our heart with the Creator of the universe, then our attitude toward God will be selfish, controlling pride, which just shows that we do not recognize that God is sovereign. There is only one God, and He is ruler over all.

Habakkuk the Crier

How long, O Lord, must I call for help? But you do not listen! "Violence!" I cry, but you do not come to save. Must I forever see this sin and misery all around me? Wherever I look, I see destruction and violence. I am surrounded by people who love to argue and fight. The law has become paralyzed and useless, and there is no justice given in the courts. The wicked far outnumber the righteous, and justice is perverted with bribes and trickery.

Habakkuk l:2-4 (NLT)

Can you not hear the breaking heart of a man crying out to God for relief?

"How long must this go on?" he cries.

"Violence is all around me!" he yells.

Still, for all his cries and complaints, the answer he desires does not come.

Habakkuk is a book about a man who was looking at the end of his nation—Judah. Believed to have been written between 625-604 B.C., the book, was written at a time when the world was overrun by chaos. The first chapter was written as a complaint aimed at God; however, in the end Habakkuk's attitude takes on a much different tone.

During the time of Habakkuk the world leaders were changing almost as fast as their names could be inscribed in stone. Israel, the northern nation, had been captured by Shalmaneser V and Sargon II in 722 B.C. Israel was then deported to Gozan, Nineveh and possibly Achmetha—the area today known as Iraq. The Assyrians, in their conquest of nations, followed a system which called for the total subjection of nations with little or no uprisings. This method was devised by Tiglath-Pileser III, an Assyrian king who reigned between 745-727 B.C. Using his method, the Assyrians would conquer a nation, deport most of the people to other conquered nations, and then they would import foreigners from other conquered nations into this newly conquered nation. Thus part of the former ten tribes of Israel became the Samaritans, and the northern kingdom of Israel became a totally new neighbor to the southern kingdom of Judah.

With the fall of the city of Babylon, the Assyrian nation was overthrown by the Neo-Babylonians (the Chaldeans). This swift and concise victory was credited to the leadership of Nabopolassor, ruler of the Babylonian empire and the father of Nebuchadnezzar.

At the time, Judah had struggles of its own. She was suffering from bad kings and corrupt priests. The wealthy were taking advantage of the needy, and the idolatrous practices of other nations were influencing their worship of the Lord their God. In addition, many other nations were in turmoil. Basically, there didn't seem to be any hope on the horizon.

As Christians, our lives regularly experience chaos. It creeps into our lives and often takes us by surprise. Occasionally we hear people say that if you become a Christian your life can and should be a bed of roses. This teaching may not always be intentional, but it is often implied. If it were true that "everything is coming up roses" for Christians, this would disregard the fact that we still live in a fallen world, we still live in the flesh and Satan is still active though defeated.

Habakkuk knew that life was not a bed of roses; nevertheless, he had difficulties with the manner in which God was dealing with the plight of His people. The two tribes that made up Judah were all that was left of the original twelve tribes of Israel—and out of Israel came Judah, the tribe chosen by God to bring forth the Messiah. Consequently, Habakkuk had serious concerns with the way God was handling the nation, and he did not mind sharing his complaints with God. His two concerns were:

1. Believing as he did in the justice of God, he could not understand why the righteous must suffer at the hands of the wicked. God was inconsistent with his justice.

2. Where was His concern for His chosen people, those whom God said, ". . . your God has chosen you to be a people for His own possession out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth" (Deuteronomy 7:6). Surely His chosen people would not suffer from the coming destruction, he thought.

As Habakkuk's first complaint spills out of his mouth, we can feel the emotion resonating down through the ages into our lives.

"How long, O Lord, must I call for help? ... Why do you tolerate wrong?"

We can hear these words echoing in our own lives. We wonder why God sometimes allows things to transpire that run—or seems to run--contrary to His holiness. Doubt enters our minds and we begin to question God.

"God, you could have protected them."

"God, you could have stopped it."

"God, why?"

In his book Be Amazed, Warren E. Wiersbe writes:

_Keep in mind there is a difference between doubt and unbelief. Like Habakkuk, the doubter questions God and may even debate with God, but the doubter doesn't abandon God. But unbelief is rebellion against God, a refusal to accept what He says and does. Unbelief is an act of the will, while doubt is born out of a troubled mind and a broken heart_ (p. 112).

It is not wrong to wonder about or question God's actions. Occasionally when I tell people this, they stare at me shocked that I would have the audacity to say that it's okay to question God. Why not? God desires that we know Him and understand Him to the fullest. If we do not ask why, we miss an opportunity to get to know Him.

What about the psalmists and their pursuit of God? Didn't they cry out for understanding in their seasons of troubles? Didn't they use statements such as "Have mercy on me," or "Deliver me," or "They spread a net for my feet." Many of the Psalms cry out for understanding.

My soul finds rest in God alone;... How long will you assault a man? ... Surely you will reward each person according to what he has done.

Psalm 62:1, 3, 12

In my quest pursuit of questioning God, I start with a basic primer: I believe God is doing everything in His power to make me things better (Romans 8:28). I am not trying to throw this wonderful verse around as a catch-all verse; rather, it is a verse of security and trust. I know God is never inconsistent or unjust, for the Bible says, "He is the same yesterday, today and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). We need to remember that God selects the tools He wishes to use to chasten and purify His people. In reading Old Testament prophets like Joel, Hosea and others, God warned Israel and Judah about their coming punishment if they did not turn back to Him and Him alone. God was not inconsistent; He merely did what He said He would do if His people did not listen to Him. The only inconsistency would have been if God had not used a chastening tool against His people. Who would God be if He warned His people and then left them to their own ill-gotten gain without any chastisement? Grace and judgment are two heads of the same coin. They are used by God to chasten and to protect.

Then there was the second concern, "Where was God's esteem and regard for His chosen people?"

How often do we ask God the same question but in different ways?

"How long must I live in a marriage that is lifeless and pitiful?"

"Why do you allow my children to make such awful mistakes?"

"When will you deliver me from this burden which I cannot bear?"

"Why must I continue like this?"

"God, do you love me?"

Habakkuk had similar questions. He hurt and wanted answers. He saw destruction and violence. Life was pitiful, discouraging, troublesome and insecure. He believed God didn't care for the people or for himself. "How long, O Lord," was his cry, but the answer was not what he desired to hear.

The Lord replied, "Look at the nations and be amazed! Watch and be astounded at what I will do! For I am doing something in your own day, something you wouldn't believe even if someone told you about it. I am raising up the Babylonians to be a new power on the world scene. They are a cruel and violent nation who will march across the world and conquer it. They are notorious for their cruelty. They do as they like, and no one can stop them. Their horses are swifter than leopards. They are a fierce people, more fierce than wolves at dusk. Their horsemen race forward from distant places. Like eagles they swoop down to pounce on their prey.

"On they come, all of them bent on violence. Their hordes advance like a wind from the desert, sweeping captives ahead of them like sand. They scoff at kings and princes and scorn all their defenses. They simply pile ramps of earth against their walls and capture them! They sweep past like the wind and are gone. But they are deeply guilty, for their own strength is their god."

Habakkuk 1:5-11 (NLT)

I don't know about you, but this is not something I want to hear from God when I come to Him with trouble. I can empathize with Habakkuk and feel for him as he came to God with his concerns for the nation of Judah and for his own wellbeing. Habakkuk cries out to God in distress, but God tells him, "Don't worry, I've got it all worked out. I am raising up a nation that is going to eradicate your nation."

Habakkuk was stunned by the answer, stunned to discover that God was responding to his cry but not in the fashion that he wanted. Habakkuk sought a revival. He wanted God to sweep down and make everything right. He wanted security and protection.

So too in our lives we look for a similar solution. We cry out for help waiting for the God who said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you," to arrive on the scene and take control. We wait for Him to come and revive us and make everything alright. Instead, the answer is often incompatible with our wants. God does show up but not with an explanation. Instead God shows up with a revelation. In desperation we cry:

"God, save me!"

"God, don't let my family break up!"

"God, don't let me have to file for bankruptcy!"

"God help!"

God then replies, "I am helping. I am doing something you would not believe, even if it was told to you." And then everything seems to go to pot.

Like Habakkuk, we are stunned and confused at the answer. God has spoken, but His answer seems contradictory to His love and grace. We think God did not hear us correctly, so we cry out again, this time louder than our first cry and with more apprehension that the answer is not what we desire.

Habakkuk also cried to God a second time, but instead of only complaining, Habakkuk said:

I will climb up to my watchtower and stand at my guard post. There I will wait to see what the Lord says and how he will answer my complaint.

Habakkuk 2:1

The Lord's answer was slightly different. This time He said to Habakkuk,

I heard you correctly. The problem is you did not hear me correctly; so this time write it down.

Habakkuk 2:2 (RTV–Richard's Translated Version)

Twenty years in the making, for joy that almost didn't happen

I can remember the day like it was yesterday.

October 13, 2002. It was a Sunday. I was unlocking doors at the church, making coffee for the Sunday school crowd, doing the things pastors do every Sunday at a small church. If the snow needs shoveling, he shovels. If a light needs changing, he changes it. If the parking lot needs to be picked up, he picks it up. He goes through the bathrooms, checks each classroom, and of course double checks the sanctuary.

It was about 9 a.m. and I was walking through the breezeway between the sanctuary and the fellowship hall at Westland Heights Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas. I just happened to look toward the parking lot, as I often did, and noticed Kaye, my wife, hot-footing it to the church. She was not quite dressed for church, and she was obviously upset. Tears were running down her cheeks. She did not look distraught or in pain. Instead, she looked gleeful.

As I walked over to meet her, I asked the obvious question, "What's wrong?"

It was at that question that a floodgate of tears broke forth from Kaye. I was stunned. This was a cry like I had never seen Kaye cry before. I thought I had seen and heard everything from my wife, but this was different. She was laughing, crying hysterically, gasping for air—all at the same time. Then she spoke those two most precious words.

"I'm pregnant!"

Did I mention that we had only one other child? Tara was nineteen at the time, about to turn twenty.

Honestly, we were so elated.

Kaye — like so many women — had had two miscarriages. That rocked our world so much that we stopped trying to have any more children. Besides, with Tara and her condition, we figured that she was enough. But now we were going to have another child. I could hardly wait to tell the church. What great joy. The service came, though I hardly remember anything that happened until the end of the service came and I had everyone sit down for an important announcement. I had to make a big production.

"I just want the church to know," I started, "that the church will have an addition to its ranks in June. Kaye is pregnant!"

With that the jubilation began, and boy, did it begin. The ladies started planning and doing the things they do. They talked so long that I think we may have just stayed and had the evening service... while the women talked.

The following Monday Kaye scheduled an appointment with her gynecologist to begin the regimen of exams every pregnant woman goes through. She was so happy. Her visit went well. The doctor had his usual concerns for someone her age — she was 35 at the time — but as far as he could see, everything was fine. "Come back next month and we will do the first sonogram and show you the 'peanut,'" he said.

All was going well. Our parents were excited as was the soon-to-be big sister. But things changed quickly.

The next doctor's visit went as planned. They did all the routine exams, but the doctor had a concern. Kaye was in her first trimester, which is the most crucial. He seemed hesitant and a little taken back as he did his examination. Things just didn't seem right, or so he thought. As Kaye was getting dressed, the nurse came in and said the doctor wanted to see us in his office. We were nervous. In fact, we were terrified.

"I'm sorry," the doctor began, "there is no easy way to say this. I would not tell anyone you are pregnant. You will probably not carry this baby to full term. Your baby has developed an attached tumor, and the tumor will most likely kill the child."

Like any parents, we were devastated. We began asking questions, doing online research and a whole lot of praying. We tried to find some options, but there seemed to be none. The doctor explained to us that in all his 30 years of practice he had never seen one of these, and he had only read about one of these in a journal. The odds were not in our favor.

Disheartened, we went to our church that Wednesday night and told the members what the doctor had said. We called our parents, told our friends, stopped looking at furniture and prepared for the worst. But thank God, He had other plans.

Over the weeks our prayer lives intensified. People all across America began to pray for a child they had not seen. E-mails flooded in from friends and family across the country. We tried to push forward, but what were we to do? Our lives had been shaped by tragedy, and this looked to be just another tragedy.

For the next several months we did not know what to think. Sonogram after sonogram showed the mass was still attached. Even after we made it through the first trimester, hope looked dim. For almost twenty years we had tried to have a child.

In the fifth month of Kaye's pregnancy we finally got some good news. The tumor had split away from the baby, but it had its own feeding vessel. What looked like a blessing still had a very high risk. We settled in for the long haul thinking things could not get any worse, but they could and did.

Kaye was in her sixth month and continuing to get ready for the birth of our baby. Things were about as normal as they could be for us. I was downtown taking care of some business when I received an urgent call from Kaye. She was at home doing chores when she noticed she was bleeding uncontrollably and did not know what to do. I rushed home and took her straight to the hospital where she was admitted and monitored overnight. The baby was struggling for its life. Time and time again the nurses could not find a heartbeat. At first they thought it was the monitor, but soon they realized the baby was fighting for its life. Kaye was so out of it that she slept most of the night, thank God. I couldn't sleep, so I watched the monitors, and when the alarms would sound, a nurse would come running in. It was a long night.

Kaye was placed on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. This caused a deep financial burden on us, but God always took care of us.

After nine grueling months, the day finally came when our baby was to come into this world. With a host of family and friends in the waiting room, the doctor decided to induce labor; he wasn't going to wait any longer. One would think all the troubles and heartache was over, but one would be wrong. The next eight hours would be the toughest fight for survival.

Our baby had developed an infection in the womb. Her heart rate climbed to more than 250 beats per minute (normal is 110–160 beats per minute). Time and time again the doctor and nurses did what they could to bring our child's heart rate down. The problem was, as they lowered our baby's heart rate, they also lowered Kaye's blood pressure. For eight hours a battle of tug-of-war ensued. At times the nurses would ask everyone besides me to leave the room. Injections were given; we would watch the monitors, and sometimes that was followed by occasional tapping on the screen. It was a nerve-wracking day.

The doctor kept assuring me that he could take our baby by cesarean section in a matter of minutes if necessary. However, if at all possible, he wanted to have a natural birth. Sometimes it was too stressful for us to handle, but all we could do was wait and pray.

As the clock ticked by, minutes seemed like hours, and hours like days. Similar to that June day in 1984, it felt like everything was running in slow motion as we waited for the delivery. Then the time came; our baby would not wait any longer. At 4:58 p.m., on June 26, 2003, Glenda Cecilia McCormack came into this world—with all her fingers and toes. The tumor had not done any lasting damage. We were ecstatic. We have not stopped praising God since.

God's correction

As God responded again to Habakkuk, light began to shine in the darkness of his thinking. God responded and gave clear understanding to His actions—they were out of His grace. No explanation was needed, yet God chose to answer. He chose to clarify Habakkuk's misunderstanding and to give him clarity.

Two responses are given to Habakkuk. They seem to be the same two responses God gives us in our times of need and sorrow. The first response was that God's timing is not man's timing (Habakkuk 2:3). God did not then, nor does He now, demonstrate His great power except in keeping with His great purpose and plan.

We are so determined to demand from God an answer to His action, in our time of trouble, that we fail to recognize Him in His perfect timing. We think we have a better plan for our future and know what is best for ourselves. However, this never seems to be true.

Every time we try to do what we believe is best for our lives, whether or not we determine if it is in God's will or not, it always fails. We want things to happen in our time and with our plan. It is like when we want a new car. We believe if only we had a new car, all our troubles at work or in our social life would be over and all our problems would melt away as we drive down the street looking so cool. Everything would be great, that is until the monthly payments come due and our insurance rates increase. Then we find ourselves working longer and harder just to keep something we thought would help us.

God knows what is best for us.

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope."

Jeremiah 29:11

God's timing and plan is always best, no matter what our circumstances. God is never late; He is never early; He is always on time.

The second response God gave Habakkuk was that His plan is sovereign and universal (Habakkuk 2:20). As sovereign His plan has absolute authority. As universal His ways are constant and unchanging (Hebrews 13:8). Therefore, because God is the creator of the universe all men and nations are under His subjection. Thereby, God can use the heathen nations as well as the righteous for His will and purpose. God is not limited in His sovereignty. He is the ultimate authority. He works not only in history but toward the fulfillment of history. He works toward the full realization of Christ's kingly rule and manifestation of His glory.

Often the Bible is mistakenly taken as a history book, but it is not. The Bible is a book that tells the revelation of God, and it is in history that the revelation of God unravels for man. Accordingly, through that history, God has chosen to use human agents at his bidding. This might seem like a strong statement, yet Paul reminds us,

[I]t is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.

Philippians 2:13

How God works is indeed beyond our understanding. This is one reason why God told Habakkuk that "the righteous will live by faith" (Habakkuk 2:4b). It is God's design—not ours. God's ways are higher than our ways; His thoughts are higher than our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8). All we can do is trust God, for He chooses the path we are to take.

I know sometimes this is not easy to accept as seen earlier in John MacArthur's article. Nonetheless, God is sovereign—He knows all—and He acts as He chooses. Even in the course of a man's sin God acts as He chooses. God may prevent some from sinning who otherwise would have sinned (Genesis 20:6). God may allow sin to happen without interfering (Psalm 81:12 ). God may direct the human sin for purposes of the future (Genesis 50:20). God may limit His involvement in the prevention or action of sin (1 Corinthians 10:13). Whatever the action, God's plans and actions are just and sovereign. It is here where the tension lies regarding God's sovereignty.

In understanding God's sovereignty, we must accept that God is active in all of history as well as in our individual lives. God did not merely create the universe and then step back as a nonpersonal deity, as is the intelligent design theory. God chooses to intervene, create or destroy what He desires. God is a God of history, and He is active and present in the very moment you are living in right now. He has providentially looked down through the ages and determined His will for all ages. He chose our path because He knows who we are, and He knows how to give us a better life.

Now suppose one of you fathers is asked by his son for a fish; he will not give him a snake instead of a fish, will he? Or if he is asked for an egg, he will not give him a scorpion, will he? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?"

Luke 11:11-13

God has a perfect plan for you. However, during your hour of suffering you probably will not have an understanding of His plan or accept it. Like Habakkuk, you are standing on your watchtower waiting for the Lord; yet, if you are honest, you have found, in your view, God is lacking.

Horatio G. Spafford

In the mid to late 1800s a man named Horatio G. Spafford established himself as a successful legal consultant in Chicago. Despite his financial success, he always maintained a keen interest in Christian activities. He enjoyed a close and active relationship with one of the most prominent preachers of the time, Dwight L. Moody. A noted gospel musician of the time, George Stebbins, said Spafford was a "man of unusual intelligence and refinement, deeply spiritual, and a devoted student of the Scriptures."

Spafford was a man who had everything going for him. He had a successful career in law, a loving wife and four daughters. He was a good Presbyterian who supported the church both financially and physically. Everything a man could ask for was found in his grasp. Nevertheless, all of this would soon change.

Over the years Spafford had invested heavily in real estate on Lake Michigan. It was to be a golden opportunity for his investments. Yet, within days of making his investment, his holdings were almost wiped out because a cow owned by Catharine O'Leary kicked over a lantern in a barn starting the Chicago Fire of 1871. Friends and church members tried to comfort the family but to no avail. The family continued on as any Christian family would during times like these, but the burden was greater than Spafford believed he or his family could bear. After two years of ups and downs Spafford desired a respite for his wife and daughters. He took the advice of a close friend who had wired Moody and told him of their troubles. Moody wired back asking Spafford to come to Great Britain and join him and Ira Sankey as they preached revivals across England. Spafford agreed.

The year was 1873 and all was arranged for the Spaffords to sail to Great Britain on the steamer Ville du Havre for some rest and relaxation. The family looked forward to seeing Mr. Moody and to simply rest after the previous two years of trouble. Yet, as the boat was about to set sail, an unexpected last-minute business development came up and Spafford had to remain behind for a few days to take care of it. He told his family that he would meet them in England within a week or two and not to worry—all was well. Perhaps you know the story, that it wasn't long before tragedy struck. On November 22, 1873, the ship was struck by the British iron sailing ship the Lochearn and sank within twelve minutes. Several days passed and the victims and survivors were plucked from the sea to be taken to Cardiff, Wales. News slowly made it back to the mainland of the devastation. From Wales, Mrs. Spafford, who had been plucked unconscious from the ocean, cabled her husband the shocking news, "Saved alone. What shall I do? . . ."

God prepares His people

Early in 2003 I was preparing for the church's annual revival meeting in September. Just as I did for many other events, I was in prayer and on the phone trying to find the evangelist God wanted for these important services. From January through May no name rose to the top of the list. I believed God would reveal the right person in His time. The school year came and went, vacation Bible school was a week away, and God laid on my heart to have a "week of decision" in September. This would be a week-long service where church members would decide if they were going to follow God fully or if they were not. I would challenge them to have no middle ground.

Before we continue, I have to mention that I was still pastoring that same small church on the west side of Fort Worth. When I arrived in 2001 I became the twenty-fourth pastor of this fifty-year-old church. The average tenure for a pastor was eight months, so you can see what I was up against. When I came to Westland Heights I received 100 percent of the votes—all eighteen of them. Our church grew some over the next couple of years, and by September 2003—the time for the "week of decision"—we were averaging about 40 regular attenders. Things were progressing but nothing like they were about to.

During that week the church came to see the need for a strong presence in the local community. United together we made a vocal decision to follow Jesus and yield to His sovereign will. At the time we did not fully recognize where He was leading us, but there was such a deep presence of God's Spirit that everyone knew we were on God's path. It was almost like Isaiah 30:18-22 was being fulfilled in our presence.

You will hear a word behind you, 'This is the way, walk in it.'

The next few years were filled with wonder. The church grew beyond everyone's belief. We were baptizing more than twenty percent of our average attendance, and the church was moving forward and making a difference. We even started two missions and were working on starting a third when I resigned in November of 2008. In 2007 the church voted to begin fundraising to build a new church—God was blessing Westland Heights Baptist Church and we had run out of space—but because of the "week of decision," in September 2003, God had prepared us for a community that was about to face disaster.

White Settlement, Texas, is a small incorporated town in the suburbs of the west side of Fort Worth. It is a quiet little town, and many of its residents work for Lockheed Martin which manufactures military airplanes including the F-16, F-22 and the F-35. The town is very peaceful, and except for the excitement of having a vote to change its name (which was defeated 2,388 to 219), nothing out of the ordinary happens. It really is one of those small towns that so many people want to live in. However, on June 7, 2004, everything changed.

It started as a pronounced wind storm that knocked trees over on power lines and fences. Yet within a week the storms turned into something far worse. The National Weather Service forecast strong thunderstorms over the following few days, and late in the evening of June 7, the big storm started. Within a few hours this quiet little community experienced the worst flooding in its sixty year history. More than $20 million worth of damage occurred to homes and residents along Farmers Branch Creek. The volunteer fire department made numerous high water rescues from vehicles and homes. With power outage in most of the city it would dawn before the depth of destruction could be seen.

During the storm, about midnight, I received a call from one of our church members saying he and his wife were caught in a flash flood on a bridge. I was stunned. I had slept through the heart of the storm and had not heard anything. Rain had fallen so fast that it caught everyone unaware. What began as a thunderstorm had developed into a perfect storm that dumped six to eight inches of rain per hour for more than six hours. So much rain washed into the creeks and ditches that the water had nowhere to go, so into streets and homes the water went.

After the call I went immediately to White Settlement. As I exited off the freeway I saw the devastation firsthand. I went to the fire department that had been turned into a make-shift shelter. Families of the devastation were there trying to find shelter, as were members of Westland Heights Baptist Church. We helped the best we could, but mainly we just offered prayers and a shoulder to those who needed it.

The next day we learned about a couple of members who were caught in the flood, so we lent a hand by providing shelter and a strong back for cleanup. But to my amazement we found so much need along the flood zone that we did not know where to start. We quickly realized that the destruction was great.

I saw so much anguish and despair in the faces of parents and children that my heart ached. It was difficult to comprehend the trauma in these poor people's lives. I felt for them. Most did not have a church family to turn to, and some did not have family at all. Over and over we heard the same questions asked.

"What are we going to do?"

"Where do we go now?"

These were the words I shared with my little flock as I challenged them to help.

For the next few weeks we heard the same story over and over again—"Homeowners insurance does not cover floods."

Flood insurance was the last thing on a homeowner's mind who did not live in a flood zone but in a dry, almost drought-stricken metroplex.

We connected with the city manager to see where we could help. We then went door to door delivering trash bags and other cleaning supplies. We donated more than 5,000 pounds of food along with clothing, toys and furnishings, but the most important thing we offered was a warm embrace. I was amazed and excited that before all the destruction, God had already prepared His people for service. Westland Heights Baptist Church took the lead in the disaster area and called Texas Baptist Men to assist with the cleanup. For months we cleaned houses, provided hot meals and prayed for people. Did we ever pray!

God had prepared His church nine months before to reach out during this disaster. He had seen us through. The church had proven itself obedient. I could not have been prouder. We were on top of our game.

And then the twitching started.

It started as a twitch

At first it was an annoyance, an annoyance that would not go away.

During the White Settlement flood a twitching in my right index finger developed. I didn't think much about it except that it was probably stress related. So I went on about my business. The church was growing, people were being saved and God was moving in the midst of His people. Everything was great, except for this annoying twitch. It was so annoying that I made fun of it in my sermons. Friends would tease me about it—all in good humor. It was so annoying.

Over the next few months I applied myself even more to being service minded. We were assisting with the flood cleanup. I volunteered at Seeds for Harvest, a not-for-profit food ministry in Fort Worth. Westland Heights Baptist Church had started two new missions. Basically, we were reaching people for Jesus. The only problem that I had was an annoying twitch. It wouldn't stop. Over the next year the twitching in my finger moved up my hand and into my arm. Worse yet, I began taking longer to think about words and names. This wasn't just a run-of-the-mill brain burp. Instead, I was stammering over simple words like "church," "Mike," "house" and even a couple times "Kaye"—who happens to be my wife.

I listened to tapes of my sermons to see if I was exaggerating, but no, you could hear the stuttering and the pauses as I tried to find the words. About this time the church and my family became concerned. We all laughed at the blunders, but we knew something was wrong.

Before long the twitches turned into constant tremors, and the dexterity of my hand was failing. It became so bad that I could not write a sentence that I could read. We knew I had to do something, so I finally scheduled an appointment with my doctor, and he was surprised that I had not come in sooner. I told him about the progression, to which he sent me directly to the emergency room.

"Why did you wait so long to come in?" he asked.

"I thought it was stress," I told him.

At first the tremors were not continuous, but the pain that came with them was getting worse. As doctors and nurses poked and prodded me, the early diagnosis was "unknown." I could have anything from benign tremors to Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), or Lou Gehrig 's Disease. They did many blood tests, a CAT scan, etc. I even had an MRI that proved I had a brain. There went that excuse. Nothing came to the forefront. Doctors were baffled. Several doctors told me that unfortunately, many neurological diseases are diagnosed by observation, and yours fit a couple of different types. "We will start you out on some medication and then observe."

This went on for a couple of years. We tried such things as blood pressure medication and epilepsy medication. Most gave me bad side effects like negative thoughts; all of them made me drowsy. For tremors I was taking one medication, for pain another, and in the end none worked. Things were getting worse. Finally I met a neurologist who had diagnosed these very symptoms before. He was the sixth doctor that I had been to. It wasn't the doctors' fault. What I have gives a lot of confusing symptoms.

"You have a motor neuron disease called action myoclonus," the neurologist told us. "It is caused by the lack of oxygen to certain parts of the brain. It is not fatal. The problem is, it is very debilitating and painful, and it will only get worse."

Well, that helped. Things were going to get worse. I imagined that one day I would be a slobbering invalid having to rely on my wife to feed me and bathe me. There are no treatments or medications to help the deterioration, he told us. There are some narcotics for the pain, but they have negative side effects.

Now what?

What can you say?

To make matters worse, we had no insurance.

Our situation, Our response

Why do bad things happen to good people?

That is the question I most wish l could answer when I am asked, but what could possibly be the answer? Because we live in a fallen world? Because Satan is still active in this world? Because we are still of the flesh? Because! Because! Because! Who knows? All I do know is that bad things do happen to good people. Habakkuk the prophet also had to face this very question. Your fault, my fault, nobody's fault—bad things happen.

In chapter three of the book of Habakkuk, he did something very uncharacteristic for a complaining prophet—he changed. He changed from a person who let his troubles overwhelm him to a man committed to following God no matter the cost.

What changed him? Why the sudden change of heart?

We know that one thing did not change—Habakkuk's circumstances. God was still going to destroy Judah by the hand of the Babylonians. He was still going to send the people into exile, and to top it all off, the temple was still going to be destroyed. So, what caused a man who began his oracle crying to God, "How long, O Lord. . ." to change to someone who finished by saying, "yet I will rejoice in the Lord"?

The simple answer is that Habakkuk realized the awesomeness of God in God's revelation of Himself. In other words, Habakkuk realized he was nothing and the great God of the universe had revealed Himself to him.

"How could this be?" we ask.

"God is transcendent."

"God is far above us."

"He doesn't answer us when we pray, and God only sometimes does what we ask."

First, this is not true. God is at work in and around us, as Henry Blackaby says, and He is revealing Himself to us step by step and day by day. God wants us to know Him (1 John 2:3-6). By going through sorrows and tragedies God's glory is revealed to us. God is always glorified in deliverance; but He is also a progressive God who reveals Himself and His will in part rather than all at once. God waits on those who seek to develop an intimate relationship with Him, not a relationship in word only during troubled moments so that we can prove God is there, but rather as a continual, lasting relationship of trust. Trust is not something that comes automatically for man but through times of reliability, through those moments when trust is proven over and over.

Secondly, Habakkuk realized that "the righteous will live by faith." Habakkuk wanted a revival of the people so he could see God at work, but God was at work by doing the best thing possible for His people. Habakkuk had not fully trusted God. He was still living with the idea that he must see good results to trust God. Therefore, he trusted God by his sight and not by his faith.

How often do we live by sight or by our own strength? What did we do the last time God spoke to us and challenged us in our walk with Him? Almost every biblical character had a revelation of God during their distress. Noah with no righteous people around. Moses after being in a wilderness forty years. Gideon while sifting wheat in a wine press. Stephen while being stoned. Paul on the road to Damascus. All these had a fresh revelation of God in their distress. God wants to grow us, and He often does this through sorrows and tragedies which are in His sovereign plan. Our faith is too often limited to our own actions. It is by the reach of our arm or the job that we hold that determines our outcome in faith. Some say they have great faith, but faith is like any muscle. Unless you use it, it begins to deteriorate.

Habakkuk realized that he had not sought to place his will in the will of God. He was hoping to get his will done in heaven instead of God's will done on earth. He soon discovered in all his troubles that his way did not work. It was in God's declaration of righteousness that Habakkuk's heart started to melt, and he realized God was sovereign and that he must trust in God no matter what. Even if the fig tree does not bud, even if the olive crop fails, even if the fields produce no food, the only thing that mattered was that Habakkuk would follow and trust God and God alone.

My grace is sufficient

When the tremors first developed in my hand it was more of an annoyance than anything, but it soon began to hurt. The upper part of my arm had a deep throbbing pain followed by a sharp piercing pain in the middle part of my biceps. Every time I used my right arm the pain had a way of reminding me it was there. Simple tasks like picking up a pen intensified the pain. It wasn't like the normal pain a person gets in the muscle; this was deep and progressive. The pain was constant, like someone was driving spikes into my upper arm.

As the pain and tremors progressed, I and others prayed that God would restore and heal me. We prayed for the pain to be removed, for the tremors to go away and for an overall healing of my body. The only problem was that God seemed to be very silent. As the months passed, I can honestly say there was no answer from God to my prayers. Sure, God was speaking about His church and the direction the ministry should go, but as to my condition He was silent. Friends and family would encourage me as the days progressed. The hardest part of all was not the pain but watching the looks on my wife's face as she saw me in pain. It was almost more than I could bear.

I had (and still have) no idea why God was not answering me. I felt like Job without the three friends. God was completely silent toward my condition as the months rolled into years. Then as the tremors and pain started to move into my foot God spoke to my heart. Finally the day had come.

I can remember the moment like it was yesterday. It was not during my usual quiet time, nor was I in prayer at the church or at home. Instead, I was walking with my three-year-old daughter, Cecilia, thinking about how I did not want to be a cripple sitting on the sidelines watching my child grow up. I remember my heart aching thinking that my days would be over within a few years. I would be nothing more than a mass lying on the floor convulsing uncontrollably. The thought of this crippling disease was having its toll on my spirit. I almost wished for death.

It was at that moment that the Spirit of God spoke to me. I was overwhelmed by His presence. His words grabbed my heart as I heard Him say deep within my soul, "My grace is sufficient."

I knew at that moment that God had not abandoned me. I knew He was and had always been there with me and that no matter what, God would see me and my family through. He would give us the courage to carry on. In this moment this old preacher realized for the first time that God was sovereign over all, and He would be glorified through my suffering. Even when our world is bent on miraculous healing, God would use me to be a voice for His sovereignty. Understand, I do not dismiss miraculous healing. I have an eye that I would not be able to see out of if not for God's overnight miraculous healing (that's another story). I believe complete healing is only one side of healing and is not the total picture.

As time went on, my family and I made peace with my condition. We accepted that God's grace was sufficient. He had seen us through the darkest days, and He had not (and has not) abandoned us. However, what was about to come would pierce our hearts and would challenge my faith in a completely different way than ever before.

"God has spoken to me."

I really struggle with talking about this next event. For years I have pondered what I did or did not do to deserve what I was about to receive. Please understand; I do not want to offend or hurt anyone, so I will change the name of the person to Peter. Only Peter and I know his identity.

Peter came to me with a lot of troubles while I was pastor of Westland Heights Baptist Church. He had issues that caused him to do things he knew were wrong. Sometimes he would treat me as a priest and confess his soul to me. I always reminded him that God forgives and that he needed to confess his sins to Him. We often prayed together. For years he and I talked about his demons and the struggles he had with them. He became fairly active in our church, although more as an "attender" than anything else—but he was a good man and seemed to be growing in his faith.

As we were talking one day the subject of baptism came up. We had talked many times about his salvation experience and how God continued to love him even though he was a prodigal son. He told me about how he became a Christian when he was a child but had strayed away from the church. His parents were not abusive, but they did have their problems. So I asked Peter if he had ever been baptized, and he said no. He had always wanted to be baptized as a child, but his parents forbade it.

Time had slipped away and he had not put any more thought into being baptized. The thought had not crossed his mind, he said. Later in life he only saw baptism as a way of membership into a local church, and if the people knew him, he said, they would not want him. So baptism was not even a thought in his mind. I explained to him that baptism is more than just a requirement for membership. It also has to do with a relationship issue between him and God. It did not matter what others thought because God wanted him to be baptized into the family, into the body for which Christ died. After explaining the need and purpose of baptism, he could not wait to be baptized. So the following Sunday with about fifty members in attendance, I baptized Peter as my brother in Christ.

Peter could not get enough of God's Word. He read his Bible regularly as well as every book he could get his hands on about God, Christianity and the Bible. We would sit in my office for hours discussing theology, and he soaked it up like a sponge. Peter was truly growing in Christ—it was the next part I did not see coming.

About the time my tremors got worse, Peter and I stopped spending as much time together as he made new friends. He started visiting other churches because he wanted to know more about the end times and the book of Revelation. In a large city like Fort Worth you can always find a church that is teaching some aspect of the book of Revelation on a Sunday night. Some will make prophecies; others will warn about the impending doom—and Peter could not get enough of it.

After we had not seen him in church for many months, to my surprise he called one day and invited me over to his place to talk. He said he had heard from God and wanted to share his new revelation with me. Like many pastors I was skeptical, but I wanted to see my friend Peter, so we set a time to meet. I was excited to see him. When I arrived he seemed so happy; he even gave me a tithe check for the church and asked if I would put it in the offering plate the next Sunday. We sat for some time talking about the Bible and what he had learned in other churches. Some of the discussion was off-the-wall, but most of it was about God's grace and how he believed that he had truly found forgiveness in Christ. I was so happy for him—then it happened.

"Brother Richard, God has spoken to me," he said calmly, "and He told me that He has cursed you with these tremors and pain because you do not believe He can heal you."

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I could feel the full blunt of a spear being shoved through my chest. I was shocked.

"Why was he saying this?" I thought to myself. Surely I had done something to bring this on, but what could it have been? I tried not to dismiss his comment as someone who had become so religious that he now sought to speak in the place of God to others. I wanted to know why Peter thought this.

I tried to explain that God does not always heal. Sometimes we suffer for His glory.

"That is not true!" Peter replied. "The Bible says the reason we suffer and have diseases is because we do not have enough faith."

He then proceeded to quote Scripture after Scripture about healing—verses that he had studied quite deeply "in the Spirit" and understood the depth of what God meant. Then came another thrust of his spear.

"Brother Richard, the reason God has cursed you is because you preach that God does not heal completely."

That was all I could bear. My heart was bursting. My own lamb was attacking me. My own disciple, for whom I was a spiritual father, had thrust me through. I couldn't take anymore.

"Peter, I am sorry you believe this," I said, "and most of all I am sorry for my stammering tongue that it has led you to believe that I do not believe in healing."

With that, I laid his tithe check on his table and got up and left.

Through all the suffering my family had been through, all the pain I had endured, all the loss we had suffered, nothing hurt me more than this. I drove back to the church and went into the sanctuary and fell on the altar and wept. I cried for hours. I cried into the night until my wife came and found me at the church. Hours had passed and I had not been home for supper or to put Cecilia down for bed. I could not pull myself away from the altar. I felt betrayed by a friend—one of my own members—and it hurt.

I never told Kaye who the person was, and she never questioned me about Peter's identity. She might have figured it out over time, but she has never mentioned his name to me.

Like everyone does in times of trouble, I knew that I had to pull myself up by my bootstraps. I needed to get over this and focus on the ministry God had called us to. It was tough and it got tougher because Peter started coming back to our church. He acted like nothing had happened. He was "the voice of God" and in his mind he knew it. Every Sunday I would greet him like I greeted the rest of the members. As he left church after the services, he would pass through the line and make some comment about the message. They weren't bad comments but just enough to let me know he still was "the voice of God."

How did David do it? I wondered. How did David know that he was God's anointed, yet all along watch Saul and his army slander him and chase him for some thirty years? I tried over and over again not to think about what Peter had said, but time and time again the entire episode played out in my mind.

"Brother Richard, God has spoken to me, and He has told me He has cursed you with these tremors and pain because you do not believe He can heal you."

Why had God not avenged me?

Why was God allowing this man to come to my church?

Was I only imagining his smirks as he would leave the church?

Why was God's anointed not being avenged?

For months these questions would go through my mind regularly. I started dreading preaching on Sunday mornings because I knew that Peter would be in the audience goading me on with his smirks and comments. I started to doubt if I was called to be a minister. I even started to believe Peter was right.

About this same time my breathing started to be affected. Deep breaths became hard to take. Comments about ALS started surfacing around me again. Our family once again felt abandoned. Was Peter right? Did God speak to me through Peter? What if I indeed was cursed by God? What should I do?

I started talking to friends in the church about stepping down as pastor because of my health. I told Kaye that it would not be fair for me to continue pastoring the church in my condition. Church members asked me if I had prayed about my decision, and every time I would answer, "Of course." I had not lied; I had just not heard from God. He once again was silent.

My doctor did not know what to do because I had no insurance for the tests that needed to be performed to determine if I had ALS. He tried to do the simple process of elimination, but that would only go so far. I had an MRI taken of my head, and it showed that everything was normal. No scarring or tumors were visible. In the meantime my trouble breathing became our primary concern. Fortunately this was remedied by a simple breathing test that determined I had asthma. What more could I contract? I wondered.

My health was deteriorating, my friend Peter was attacking me, and worst of all my faith was failing. I thought about leaving the church, but in my condition I could not hold a job that would support my family. I felt like I was at the bottom of the well and somebody was yelling down, "Dig deeper."

What was I going to do?

Sea billows of peace

Shortly after Horatio Spafford received the cable from his wife, he left by ship sailed to England to join her. One can only imagine the sorrow and pain he must have felt on that journey. The voyage across the Atlantic would be a long one, but the journey just to get from Chicago to board the ship had to be a difficult and heartbreaking one. The sorrow and anguish of losing most everything he owned and now losing his four daughters; it must have been more than he could bear.

As they sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, Spafford's heart was in anguish. Surely he was asking the same questions we ask today. Where are you, God? How could you allow such a tragedy? Why have we had to suffer so much loss these past few years? Haven't we suffered enough?

When his ship approached the location where the Ville du Havre had sunk, the captain of the ship called Spafford to his cabin. The captain informed him that they were stopping over the sight of the wreckage to pay their respects to the loss of so many lives. As the ship slowed, with broken heart, Spafford walked out to the rail and looked out over the water and wept. His life was in ruined. There was no need to go on. He could hardly contain himself. Still God had a purpose for him. At that very moment, God revealed Himself to Spafford in a powerful way. The words broke through the darkness, and as soon as he got back to his cabin, he began to write. When all was said and done, Spafford had penned what would become one of the most treasured, heartfelt songs in all of history.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot,

Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, tho trials

should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate

And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thot:

My sin not in part, but the whole

is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith

shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,

The trump shall re-sound and the Lord

shall descend,

"Even so," it is well with my soul.

It is Well...

I remember another tumultuous day almost like it was yesterday. September 15, 1998, was the day of the Wedgewood Baptist Church shooting in Fort Worth where seven people lost their lives because of the acts of one man. I knew two of the victims whom I went to seminary with and shared classes. It struck very close to home. As grief and sorrow came upon the families and friends, I remember being in chapel at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary the next day for a memorial address by then-president Kenneth Hemphill. He told us that the struggles in life would always be with us, but that we can look to the hope of glory because God was in control. The sovereign God of the entire universe had not changed, for He had a perfect plan. These great men and women, whose names will forever be written in the book of martyrs, did not die in vain. God's plan was and is perfect.

Then came the moment when Benjamin Harlan, dean of the school of church music, stepped to the podium and with one downbeat began to sing It is Well with My Soul. Soon the auditorium was resounding with this wonderful song of faith and peace. As tears fell on many faces, we looked to heaven and praised God as we found peace and comfort in our souls.

Is it well with your soul? Are you like Habakkuk crying to God for help but only receiving answers you do not want to hear? Do you feel God is saying, "Hold on, because it is about to get worse?" Or is God silent, and you are longing for any answer from Him? If so, then now is the time for you to come to Holy God, to fall on your face before Him, place your trust in Him and cast all you have before Him. God has a perfect plan for you, and His desire is for you to receive it. Do not fight God today. Instead, be as Habakkuk, who said:

though there are no sheep in the pens and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.

Habakkuk 3:17, 18

Epilogue

How do you finish a story that is ongoing? The struggles continue to be with us every day. Day by day we slowly move forward. Some days are great while others ... well... are not so great. Today, for example, as I am finishing this manuscript, Kaye just came home from a doctor's appointment. Of course I stopped typing when she walked in the door because I wanted to know how the appointment went. With tears rolling down her face, Kaye struggled to share some disturbing news. Quietly and dejectedly she told me:

"The doctor said I have an enlarged uterus, and he felt something on my breast."

Once again I was stunned. I felt terrible. I started thinking, I should have been with her at the doctor's office, but this was supposed to be a routine checkup. Naturally there will be more tests, but that word we hate, that ugly "C" word, once again was dancing on the end of our tongues.

Once again we cried and prayed. We questioned God. Blamed our health troubles on the lack of insurance. We want to point fingers and play the blame game, yet none of this helps. Another piece of news has taken us by surprise. We are once again jerked out of our comfort zone. I attempt to comfort Kaye, but again I am reminded that she sometimes just needs a good cry. I wished that worked for me.

After some time passed and the sudden shock eased, we regained our composure and remembered whose we are. It was then that we stopped and began to praise God because we know we can trust in His sovereign will. And His peace that passes understanding returned.

When we share our story, some people say that what we do seems strange, and they do not understand. Unfortunately, these people often are Christians. Others nod and smile as they remember their moments of sudden shock and calamity and recall the peace that God gave them in those moments. Still others long for a moment of respite as they attempt to claw their way out of the miry clay. For us there is but one thing to do—praise the sovereign God of all creation.

I am reminded of a passage in Nahum that many times has given me comfort in moments like these. Today I am resting in this word from God,

The Lord has His way in the whirlwind and in the storm,

Nahum 1:3 (NKJV)

I recognize that the book of Nahum is written to express God's judgment on the wicked. Nonetheless, the book also demonstrates the theological realization of God's sovereignty. On the one hand, the whirlwind is seen as judgment, and as we know God is longsuffering toward judgment. He will bring forth His judgment, but as Habakkuk quickly discovered, God's judgment is in His time.

On the other hand, in the same whirlwind God delivers His people. Like Nahum, God's people today are being attacked by this world and by Satan. We are bombarded everyday with a barrage of attacks upon our Lord's kingdom. We are the ones who suffer violence (Matthew 11:12). Our very lives are at risk each day because of what we stand for. (If you don't believe it, ask any Christian living in almost any other country. Persecution is getting worse in the United States, but it still has a long way to go to match what Christians face in other nations.) The world is merely a pawn to the forces of evil. What is worse, the world does not know it is being used by the father of lies. With this comes personal attacks and physical ailments brought into God's perfect creation, of course by the great deceiver. It is ugly and destructive. It is the world's whirlwind—but remember that God is in the whirlwind and in the storm.

In this whirlwind I have learned that the faith that can move mountains usually begins with a spoon. We cry to God in faith wanting the mighty hand of God to remove the mountain which stands before us. Yet when we behold the majestic hand of God piercing through the darkness, we see that it holds a tiny spoon. Confused, we reach for it, and with this spoon comes the words, "Let's get after it." As God works with us we start the long, backbreaking task of taking one spoonful at a time to the sea and then coming back again to the mountain. We begin to move the mountain slowly and in so doing we are taught patience and faith. It is through the moving of the mountain—side by side with our Lord—that we learn true faith. Faith is not the "genie-in-a-bottle" God doing our will. Faith is trust and reliance that comes through the struggle. We can be more than conquerors if we remember whose we are. We were bought with a price.

We live in the whirlwinds and storms of this world. However, like Spafford, we can find peace as the sea billows roll. It is in our attitude of acceptance of God's sovereignty that we become more than conquerors. We may find ourselves in the grip of the enemy, but God is the deliverer. He sets us free.

Through all the struggles my family and I have faced, I can honestly say that I would rather be found in the whirlwind with God than in the world without Him.

As I said earlier, I am not sure how to end this book. Would it be depressing to leave you hanging without a happy ending? Should I write a typical Hollywood ending?—And we lived happily ever after. Is this good prose and verse? Maybe not, but it is our life. So I will end by echoing the words of Job,

Though He slay me,

I will Hope in Him.

Job 13:15

A testimony about the sovereignty of God in a family's life.

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