Tag: miracle

The Third Day

Posted on by Dorci

“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?’” John 11:25-26

The whole world thought he was dead.

Their hopes had been so high.  Living under an oppressive rule, he had emerged as a man who performed miracles among the least of them — the poor, the lame, the blind, the leper, the demon-possessed.  So many lives had changed beyond anything they could have imagined.  They were healed, brought back to life, rejoined to their families, all because of one man.

One man had noticed them when no one else had.  When the only other attention given to them was shame or pity, he had seen them.  He had looked into their eyes, into their very souls, and validated their existence.

He had done and said things no one ever had.  He worked on the Sabbath and made no apologies.  He overturned the tables and cleared the temple for making a mockery of it.  He stood in the faces of hypocritical religious leaders and called them blind guides and whitewashed tombs.  He fed thousands with a boy’s lunch.

They’d hoped to make him king.  He was on his way to greatness and they were on their way to freedom.  Just a week before they had celebrated him.

And now he was dead.

His disciples were in mourning.  He had said something to them about being raised on the third day, but who could know what he meant now.  The past three years were gone, and it all seemed a blur. Things seemed to be headed in such a hopeful direction.  Once they thought he’d be their leader and they’d serve alongside him.  He would redeem Israel.  He would be their savior.

Now he was a prophet at best.  Just a good man lying dead inside a tomb.  Where was God? Why did He let it happen? Jesus’ life and theirs had all taken a turn they never saw coming, and all their hopes and dreams were gone.

But things aren’t always as they seem.

Beyond their understanding, beyond their imagination, beyond their greatest hopes and dreams, Christ rose from the dead on the third day, just like He said He would.

Now, with the benefit of 2000 years and God’s Word, we know the end of the story. We know there was a purpose for His death.  We know He was indeed the Christ, the Messiah who was to come, and that He had to die and live again for the remission of the sins of mankind.  We know He stayed with them, teaching them for another forty days, and then He ascended into heaven to the right hand of the Father where He rules forever.

God’s ways were much higher than Jesus’ disciples ever could have imagined.  He didn’t come just to save Israel for this life, but all believers for eternity.  He didn’t come to be just king of a country, but King of our hearts.  We know He wasn’t only a prophet or a good man, He was, and is, God.

And in His resurrection, He showed His power over death.  He proved the words He’d spoken to them: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  John 14:6

Resurrection morning is all about life.  His life and ours. It’s about the Source of life coming down to redeem us and give us new life.  Not only did Christ rise, but in Him we rise.  When we believe in Him we’re forgiven of all our sins and His life courses through our veins.  We have the promise of our souls rising from the grave the moment our life here ends, and our bodies at the end of all things.

But we are not yet resurrected.  We are still bound to these bodies and we battle sin in ourselves and in the world every day. And there are times our lives can take a jolting turn. Like the disciples, we can have plans that God doesn’t have.  Life had been moving along so well and we had it all mapped out.  And then there was the loss of something — a child, a spouse, a parent, a career, a friendship, health.  Something changed and it wasn’t supposed to be that way.  Disillusion sets in.  All our hopes and dreams are gone.

And we can be like the disciples in those long hours after their friend’s lifeless body had been carried away for burial.  We wonder what happened.  We wonder where God is and how things could have turned out so differently than we thought they would. The hours tick by and we wonder if the third day will ever come.  We feel lost, confused and alone.

But things aren’t always as they seem.

In the dark hours of suffering and loss we can understand what the disciples didn’t: that our preconceived notions and personal hopes and dreams have to die if God’s are to live in and through us.  Just as God wanted to do so much more than the disciples could have imagined, He wants to do much more in our lives than we can ever dream.

We see the end of the story that the disciples had not yet seen. And God sees the end of our story.  He sees what He is making us to be.  He sees what’s on the other side of that hill in our journey.  He sees the joy on our faces as He raises us from the dead and we join Him in heaven.  He sees us living whole, glorified lives, our souls freed from every kind of pain to soar forever with Him in new life.

He is the Author of Life, and we can trust Him.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”  2 Corinthians 4:16

Christ’s power over death is at work in us right now.  It may not look like it; it may not feel like it.  But the disciples would all tell us that looks and feelings can be deceiving.  We can have His joy now, knowing our third day will come soon.  And one day that joy will be complete, when the Maker of Life raises us with Him.  His resurrection gives us a taste of that new life now, and a glimpse of the glory to come.

In Him,

 

 

 

More Than Just Thankful

Posted on by Dorci

It was November, 1982 and I was on a Greyhound bus headed for Ohio.  I’d be spending the holidays away from my family.  I was 19.  Two years before I’d been asked to leave home one night and I’d been running ever since.  I had a lot to run from, but to where, or who, I didn’t know.

My boyfriend at the time knew a couple there, who, coincidentally or not, pastored a church. How he knew them I have no idea. We drove up their driveway and stayed in their living room for the next month and a half.

If I felt lonely before, I felt even lonelier now.  I was almost 2000 miles from home, spending some very cold days in strange house while everybody was off during the day.

Thanksgiving came and went, and the days and nights got even colder.

Something settled in my chest and I couldn’t stop coughing.  Nights were the worst, and it was a small house.  I lay there night after night, thinking I just might cough up a lung, and all I wanted was for someone to take care of me.

It was Christmas day and we tagged along to the wife’s parents’ house.  I sat in the living room staring at the activity, knowing I didn’t belong.  I asked to use the phone.

I called home and my little sister answered the phone. I told her where I was and we both started crying.  She begged me to come home.  I wanted to, but did I belong there?  Did I belong anywhere?

My mother got on the phone and tried to convince me she wanted me to come back.  She said she’d send the money.  I told her I didn’t know.  Staying was painful, but going back would be painful, too.

The couple we were staying with had bought a home in town.  We began helping them move, and they began dropping hints that once they were in the new house, we needed to find another place to stay.

I supposed it was time to go home, and back on the bus we went.

And I was thankful.

A lot happened in the next six years.  There would be a lot more running, but to where, or who, I didn’t know.

There would come a day when I’d find out.

It was a Sunday morning and my husband and I had been invited to church.  We took our 6-month-old son, walked through the sanctuary into a tiny gathering of people who met in a few rented rooms in a strip mall, and I found the Lord.

I know people like to say God finds us, but God knew where I was all along.  He was with me on the bus and in Ohio.  He was with me all the time I was running.

And I’m thankful.

 

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”   James 1:17

In the world I had only a general feeling of thankfulness, but no one to direct my gratitude to.

Now I am more than just thankful.  I know who I have to be thankful to.

I know who was responsible for every sunrise and sunset I continued to see against all odds.  I know who walked with me and whose grace and mercy covered me as I roamed the streets of a town I didn’t know. I know who healed me when there were no doctors.

And I know He was with me as I got a job as a front-desk receptionist at a computer company who had a lawyer whose calls I would answer, who would eventually steal me away to be the front-desk receptionist at his law firm, where two women worked who went to church together in a tiny congregation that met in a few rented rooms in a strip mall.

I know it’s God, my God, my Savior and my Lord, who has blessed me with all things.  Even when I didn’t know it.

And I’m thankful.

A Father’s Day We’ll Never Forget

Posted on by Dorci

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b

It was Sunday morning, Father’s Day.  I woke up with plans of hearing a good message at church, and then spending some precious family time together, grilling, maybe watching a movie.  Just relaxing.  But that day would soon be anything but relaxing. 

My husband was already up, and a minute or two after I’d gotten up he looked at me with a slight grin and told me our son hadn’t come home.  He’d left the night before, presumably to hang out with some friends.  One particular friend came to mind and I figured he’d gone there and just decided to stay the night.  He’d probably be home any minute. 

My husband began texting him, and we waited.  He texted again.  Still nothing. 

“Forget the texting.” I said, and I made a mad dash to my phone and started to punch in the number, but my husband was already calling.  He finally answered, and the side of the conversation I heard I didn’t like. 

“Where are you?” my husband said.

He suddenly had a confused look on his face. “What’s around you?”

Panic started to form a lump in my throat. 

A few more minutes of their back and forth and I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I pleaded to talk with him.  I asked him all the same questions.  “Where are you?  What do you mean you don’t know where you are?  Are you still driving?”

“Yes.”

We lost our phone connection.  I couldn’t imagine where he was or how he’d gotten there.  And the scariest thing was, neither could he. 

I finally got him on the phone again.  He thought he was on his way to a certain town.  That couldn’t be.  It was so far away.  He kept saying his face hurt.  His phone cut out again. 

We looked at each other and wondered out loud if he really could be on a road so far away from home.  And why did his face hurt? 

After another 20 minutes or so of 30-second conversations between being cut off, he said he was passing a sign with the name of the town he was entering.  Yes, he really had been headed in that direction, away from home. 

He said he was almost out of gas and we were sure his phone was ready to die.  He said he was pulling into a gas station to fill up.  I prayed with him and told him to stay there. We were coming to get him. 

He said he just wanted to get back on the road and come home.  His face hurt. 

I knew I’d have to call on my “mom voice” and demand that he stay put. 

“Are you on the road?” I said.

“Yes. I just want to come home.”

“Turn around and park and stay there!  We are on our way.”

The tone and decibel level of my voice told him I meant business.  He turned around and parked in a parking lot by a certain restaurant and that gave my husband just enough information to know where he was. 

We both ran around the house grabbing ice, water, ibuprofen.  I asked friends to be praying for us.  And in minutes we were in the car driving the almost two-hour trip out of town to get our son.  The trip was taking too long.  I had to remind myself to breathe. 

We finally got there, searched the parking lot for a minute and spotted his car.  All three of us hugged.  His face was scraped up and a corner of his tooth had been left on a sidewalk somewhere, but he was okay.  We took him to the emergency room around the corner to have him checked out.  His CT scan came back fine, but we figured he must have had a slight concussion. 

When we got back home my husband was able to map out his route with the few landmarks he could remember, which included a dirt road, cows and an Indian reservation. 

The worst part of looking at that map was knowing that in order for him to get where he was, he had to have taken the road we took–a road that for miles and miles wound around some mountains and had plenty of drop-offs.  Even when we showed him the route he must have taken, he still didn’t remember. 

It was nothing short of a miracle that he had made that three-hour drive.  Many miracles, in fact. A miracle he didn’t get into an accident.  A miracle he didn’t fall asleep. A miracle he didn’t run out of gas.  A miracle his phone didn’t die.  A miracle he didn’t drive off the side of a mountain.

His tooth was fixed and his face is healing well.  He had been goofing around with a friend, jumped on his back and they both fell onto the sidewalk. He apparently cushioned his friend’s blow. 

Course we had to ask him if he stopped along the way to go cow-tipping.  We got a bit of a grin out of him. 

My prayers for the next week or two consisted mainly of two words—“Thank you.”  I knew we’d been gifted with a great deal of grace that day.  The day wasn’t relaxing, we missed church and there was no movie.  But we had the best Father’s Day we could have.  We’d been given the gift of more time with our son.  So much better than any old tie. 

We don’t always have such a dramatic reminder of God’s constant presence, but He’s there just the same.  No matter where we go or what we do, He’s with us.  And even when we don’t know where we are, He does, and He’s there.

Always.