Sometimes, we see The Dawn immediately after the Tempest. Sometimes, years later (as in my case many times). But is spiritual clarity possible when the winds and waves bring our worlds crashing down? Even if it isn’t, for those of us in the midst of the Tempest, we still need to see beyond the clouds. Here with a moment of clarity, in just another minute, is an honest Tempest Tale of a son who was shaped by his father…and his Father.
WHERE TO BEGIN? I GUESS AT THE END/BEGINNING
by Michael
I’m not really sure where to start this story.
My first thought was to start this out around the time I was a pimple faced kid and accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior.
Then I thought, No, what about during the time in my life when I shoved Him in a corner and forgot about Him for awhile?
A long while.
Finally, I settled upon discussing the past year of my life. In part because this is not about my life story, rather it is about my storm. Or, more specifically, a tempest that involved with my father, my mother, and my sister. But for me this storm sucked me in quickly.
And with no warning.
The story I am about to tell you touches multiple facets. It will speak openly about my faith. It will speak openly about my lack of faith. It will speak openly about my pain. And the pain of those around me.
My father was diagnosed with throat cancer on January 20th 2008. He has endured thirty-five radiation treatments, seven chemotherapy treatments, thousands upon thousands of miles of driving, and (almost) as many doctor visits.
His quality of life went downhill so fast that he had to be fed through tubes because it was just too difficult for him to eat or drink.
To put it mildly, all of this was a disruption to our “comfortable” way of life.
It was very difficult for me to deal with my father’s health. I worried about him constantly–and intensely.
I wondered, “Is he going to die?”
I worried, “What will happen to Mom?”
I wondered, “Why now? Why him? Why us? Why…Why…Why…?”
And I also worried about the finanical health of my parents. My mother’s emotional, and physical, health as well. And that of my sisters.
All of this pushed my stress level to the limits with work, family, and in my spiritual life as well.
But as I look back now, I realize that, then, I was relying upon myself.
Leaning on nobody. And trusting few. Including God.
All of my questions led to doubts. I started to slip. And to pretend.
I pulled my pain inside myself. And as the days became weeks and months, I started to question more.
And I wondered, “Where are you, God?”
At times, I demanded, “If You are here, what do I need to do? What should I be doing? How can this be happening? Why is it happening? Why my father? Why my mother? Why us? Haven’t we lost enough people lately? We can’t handle another death.”
I can’t. Handle. Another. Death.
Doubt leads us a long way down.
Then, I finally hit the point of no return: I dropped to my knees and prayed, finally admitting that I could not do this alone any longer. I needed help. Needed some One to trust. That meant I had to stop pretending.
And this happened shortly after I I had lost a friend. To cancer.
While my father was still enduring his cancer.
My prayer was simple: “Here you go, Lord. You know my problems. You know my pain. You know my needs. I cannot do this alone any longer. I am placing my trust in You. I cannot begin to understand why all of this is happening, but I can put my trust in You. Help me. Please…”
I don’t know how to explain it, but life started to feel different. Like I had been given a bigger cup for this difficult drink.
As I look back now, I realize that God was talking to me all along. He was walking with me all along. He was carrying me most of the time –all of the time–I had simply chosen to ignore Him.
As I look back now, I realize that He was part of my bible study group. He was there with my friends when they listened to my struggles. He was there when people in need showed up in my life and I was the one who listened.
There were times God carried me during the darkest part of my doubts and struggles. Through the darkest parts of my storm. He led me, gently, out of my storm.
I am listening now. And God is everywhere. In everything I do. He speaks to us in so many ways. There are times when He is working harder in my life and those are the times that I can feel his presence more–the “God Moments”, if you will.
So, with all this said, Is my life perfect? No.
Is dad’s cancer gone? Only time will tell.
Is this my final storm? Probably not.
Do I continue to struggle? Absolutely.
Does God know these things? Of course.
Is He there? Yes.
Do I see differently now? Yes.
Do I pray more? Absolutely.
So I end with this: Pray always.
“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thes. 5:16-18).
God has helped me through this storm. And taught me so much.
And He used me along the way.
