One Year On

We just passed the one-year mark of being in our home - a fact which had actually escaped us until our Realtor wrote us a card to congratulate us on our first anniversary in Conifer.  One line he wrote was particularly meaningful to us: "You have immersed yourselves in the community have made lots of new friends.  Your presence here has been real positive for everyone you've come in contact with."  His card really made our day!  
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I've been watching coverage of the massive earthquake and tsunami in Japan, and my mind goes immediately back to the devastating tsunami in 2004.  The estimated death toll of 10,000 is heart-breaking, but combined with the very real threat of a catastrophic nuclear power-plant meltdown, the consequences are truly mind-boggling.  In all likelihood, the 20-30 square miles (maybe a lot more) around the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant will become Japan's version of Chernobyl - a nuclear wasteland, uninhabitable for hundreds of years to come.

I'm still thinking and praying about the next three-part series for Wednesday evenings called "Faith in the Furnace".  Daphne and I were reminiscing on the times we have seen God intervene in our lives in miraculous, supernatural ways when we've had the presence of mind to trust Him in the midst of a crisis and wait upon Him for His solution.  But there have been many more occasions when we've panicked and tried to work things out on our own... and ended up paying a high price for our efforts emotionally, financially or otherwise.  Waiting on God is a anything but a passive exercise; it usually takes far more inner strength to wait than it does to act on our own.  Everything in us wants to "do" something - anything - other than to "be still and know" that He is God.

I remember well the time when we returned from our honeymoon, only to discover that our marriage certificate was lost somewhere in the black hole of South Africa's postal system.  Without the certificate we could not obtain the official government document that was needed to finish Daphne's visa application for the U.S. - and we were facing multiple deadlines that all hinged upon that one document.  There was one critical day when the whole visa process was either going to fall into place, or fall apart completely.  We'd called every post office between the church and the local gov't office to no avail; the marriage certificate seemed to be well and truly lost.  When I realized that there was nothing we could do and that we'd reached a crisis point in our faith, I pulled out a book and sat down to read.  Daphne said, "What are you doing?" as if to say, "what AREN'T you doing?".  I said, "it's in God's hands now",  and I can honestly say that my heart was truly at rest at that moment.  So she picked up her own book and sat down to read as well.  What a funny image that was, now that I think about it 20 years later.  After a couple of hours, when we'd reached the last possible window of opportunity, we drove to the government office in question to inquire about the certificate.  We walked in and explained our predicament to the agent behind the counter.  He was about to make some excuse when he suddenly turned around and picked up a letter on the counter behind him and said, "Oh, here it is.  It just came in!".  It was a God moment if there ever was one.

Then a few years later we were on furlough in Atlanta, Georgia.  I was in the throws of the worst "restless legs" crisis that I'd faced to that point, and I literally went 8 or 9 days with no sleep.  Unfortunately, during that same period of time I was making multiple important decisions and setting up travel plans . . . and I'm sure you can imagine where the story goes from here.  One morning I was awoken by a phone call from my Mom: "Good morning!  Are you on your way to the airport?"  I was still half asleep, and replied groggily, "Why would we be on our way to the airport?"  She said, "Because your girls are flying down to Orlando today to see us!".  I was suddenly very wide awake. That moment was the critical faith crisis for me... and I panicked.  I wonder now how differently that day could have gone if at that moment I'd stopped to pray and talk over the options with Daphne.  But I didn't.

I leaped out of bed, shook Daphne awake, then ran into the girls' room and almost dragged them out of bed.  They, of course, didn't know anything about the plans to fly to Orlando (because in my sleep-deprived state I'd forgotten all about it myself) and now I was yelling at them to throw their clothes into their suitcases.  Within moments all three girls were in tears.  I literally pushed Daphne and the girls out of the house and into the car, and drove significantly above the speed limit all the way to the airport.  We ran into the terminal only to find the security line was a mile long.  We got up to the x-ray machine and threw all the girls' bags onto the belt.  Of course, one of their bags was pulled off for an extra security check (water bottle we forgot about) as the precious seconds ticked by.  We were cleared by the security agent and we raced down the escalator to the train that runs between the terminals . . . and the train just sat there ... and sat there ... and sat there.  I finally told Daphne to meet me at the gate as I jumped off the train and started running through the airport in a vain effort to delay the flight.  I reached the gate dripping in sweat and panting like a racehorse, only to be told that the flight had left 10 minutes previously.  About that time Daphne came running up, dragging  the girls and their bags behind her.  I said, "We missed the flight",  and this time Daphne AND the girls burst into tears.  The gate agent told us there was another flight leaving for Orlando in 20 minutes, so we rushed the girls to that gate, kissed them goodbye, and watched them get on the plane.  Only then did we realize that the girls did not have any emergency phone numbers or contact information with them.  Not only that, but this was their first time to fly alone.  We stood there holding hands, watching as the plane pulled away from the gate - and cried.  Of course, they did arrive safely and spent three wonderful days with their Ouma and Oupa.

Even as I write this I realize that at any point in the story I could have stopped, called my folks to say that the girls would arrive late, and relaxed.  What was the issue that pushed me to stress my family to the breaking point?  Money.  My folks had bought non-refundable tickets for the Cirque du Soleil for that night, and I didn't want them to waste their money.  Was it worth it?  No way.  God could have intervened in a hundred different ways if I'd given Him the opportunity, but I'll never know because I was determined to "fix" the problem.