Rock Solid

The Bible has some appealing things to say about God steering our steps. This, of course, is a spectacular life-perk, since God’s future-vision is always 20/20.

A while ago I gathered verses together that spoke of this phenomenon and typed them up. Because I’ve made so many missteps, focusing on God’s lead is important to me. I pondered how I might keep these written promises in the forefront of my mind and asked God if he had any ideas.

He did:

“Before Drew lays down your tile,” he said, “write My promises on the floor. You’ll be standing on them every time you step on that slate, and I’ll remind you of what’s written beneath it.”

Drew was scheduled to start slathering mortar the next morning, so as usual, God’s timing was perfect. I magic-markered my favorite passages on the floor, claiming each word as my own. When Drew came to those verses, he balked at smearing his dark gray goop over them. Looking up at me, trowel in hand, he said, “But nobody’ll see them.”

“God sees them,” I said, “and has already activated them for me, and I’ve seen them and won’t forget they’re there.” And so he covered them.

When I was growing up at Moody Church, we frequently sang a song called “Standing on the Promises.” One of its verses goes like this:

Standing on the promises that cannot fail
When the howling storms of doubt and fear assail.
By the living Word of God I shall prevail,
Standing on the promises of God.

Each time I step in, over, or on that tile, I’m standing on God’s rock-solid promises made directly to me (and you, if you claim them).

One of those verses written under the tile is Psalm 119:133. “Establish my footsteps in your Word, and do not let any iniquity have dominion over me.” This includes the iniquity of running ahead of God’s lead, stepping left or right off his chosen path for me, or lagging so far behind I’m being disobedient.

I want to move when he says move and sidestep obstacles he labels as such. A life of doing this might not be flashy on the outside, but as I pace along putting my feet into God’s prescribed footsteps, it’ll feel awfully good on the inside.

The floor is finished now, a stunning sight to my stone-appreciating eyes. This particular batch of slate was cut from a cliff in India, no two tiles alike. Since the colors vary widely, Drew put them down artistically, a greenish one here, tan there, navy across the room. The result is a floor tapestry of rock reminding me of The Rock.

So from now on it’s going to be footsteps… on rocks… on rock-solid promises… that cannot fail.

“The Lord says: ‘Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls’.” (Jeremiah 6:16)

Getting Through

My builder (and nephew-in-law) Drew is closing in on the end of our 10 week project. On our tag list today was a chore he definitely didn’t have to do but kindly acquiesced to: hanging a heavy, round mirror 40 inches in diameter. Putting it on the hook wasn’t the problem. It was where that hook was located, 16 feet above the floor.

In order to reach it, Drew had to climb onto the top step of a six foot ladder and perch there without support while holding the heavy mirror, which he had to lift high. If the ladder wiggled or he made a misstep, he’d surely fall. And if he did, he’d hit a square-edged newel post far below, tumbling down the steps to the basement, probably with the mirror shattering over him.

But the fearless Drew said, “Oh, I’ve had worse falls than that. Don’t worry.”

Worrying more, I said, “But Dad told us there’s never a good reason to stand on the top step of a ladder.” I was half hoping to stop him, but half hoping he’d hang my mirror anyway.

Klaus, his girlfriend Brooke and I held our breath as Drew climbed the ladder, as if an audience might prevent an accident. Drew successfully placed the mirror’s back-wire over the wall hook, and as we all admired his work, suddenly the 60 year old wire snapped, and the mirror careened down the wall.

Drew’s lightning instinct, even while on the top step, was to lift his knee (so now he’s teetering on one leg) and pin the falling mirror to the wall with his foot as it raced toward a narrow shelf half way down the wall.

Brooke and I gasped, envisioning Drew and the mirror both going overboard. Klaus leaped forward to help. But as Drew remained focused on saving the mirror, he also remained on the ladder.

The heavy mirror made a major dent in the shelf, despite Drew’s slowing its descent, but thankfully we had wood filler, sand paper and paint handy. After a trip to the store for new braided wire, we restrung it, and Drew repeated his risky maneuver (thus the photo).

How different our day would have been, had we needed 911.

But isn’t that true of any day? Only God knows what 24 hours will bring, which is why it’s good to turn over those hours to him every morning. Then, no matter what happens, we know God allowed it, and because of that, he’ll get us through it.

This web site is called “Getting Through This” because no one is exempt from troubles, and all of us have things to get through. I’ve learned the extent to which God will go in accomplishing this for us as I’ve gotten through the last 19 months without Nate. And I have confidence if Drew had fallen today, God would have brought him through that, too.

Now when I walk past that mirror countless times each day, I’ll hear the Lord’s voice: “We’ll get through it all… together.”
“Surely God is my help; the Lord is the one who sustains me.” (Psalm 54:4)

What’s new?

Half way through last Sunday’s sermon, a skirmish in one of the pews got everyone’s attention and stopped the pastor’s preaching.

“Someone call 911!” a man said, as he bent over the person having trouble. Several from the congregation jumped to help, and a uniformed security man entered the sanctuary speaking into his shoulder radio, “Yes, the Free Church on Douglas.”

I was sitting with my former next-door-neighbor, who’d had personal experience with 911 and had lost her husband to quick cancer shortly after we lost Nate. We both clutched.

The elderly gentleman struggling during the service was given a wheelchair ride to the parking lot where an emergency vehicle awaited, its flashing lights pushing their way through our stained glass windows. The service resumed, but Becky and I were lost in thought.

How quickly our minds race back to trauma. A soldier, newly home from a war, flinches when he hears what sounds like gunfire. An earthquake victim feels like running when a truck passes and the ground vibrates.

Trauma imprints our brains with extra oomph when it’s been life-threatening. A 911 call, death, gunfire, an earthquake – each stimulates us to act on fearful impulse. Later, when similar circumstances pop up, we react the same.

Some people organize their entire lives around an upsetting event, either by reliving it over and over or by making sure it doesn’t ever happen again. In both cases the incident dominates thought life and keeps someone stuck. Opportunities are lost, and a sad spirit dominates every day.

Is there a way to distance ourselves from past trauma when something like a 911 call yanks us back?

Yes, and God gives us the key: to set our minds on him.

If we fill our heads with his supremacy and sufficiency, other thoughts must leave. It’s easy to get mentally lost in our troubles, and immediately after Nate died, I felt that way, continually reliving his rapid decline and death, camping there for months. But calling out to God for comfort and peace slowly filled my mind with something other than Nate, and it was the Lord.

If today I was asked to hold someone’s hand as they died, even a stranger, deep sadness would cover me like a heavy blanket. But I wouldn’t stay under it for long, because I’ve become acquainted with a new mindset God has put in my head, thoughts dotted with hope and future plans because he is in them. Although I’ll never forget the details of our family trauma, I don’t live inside of it anymore.

God is our Creator, and he’s continually making all things new. When we believe that and watch for how he’s doing it in us, we won’t have to fear being pulled backwards by a 911 call but can quickly move forward into the fresh optimism he’s created.

“The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I will create.” (Isaiah 65:17,18)