Submission to The Savior In His Saints
Name: Thank You
DATE SUBMITTED 8/28/2018
CATEGORIES: Faith; Trust; Thy will be done.
BIBLE PASSAGE: Matthew 26:39 (ESV) And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”
DATE SUBMITTED 8/28/2018
CATEGORIES: Faith; Trust; Thy will be done.
BIBLE PASSAGE: Matthew 26:39 (ESV) And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”
It was around 1983 that I was in my office. The secretary came down and said “We just got a phone call from one of the Church Elders. He said, “Tell pastor to get out to the farm.” That was all he said and he hung up.”
Knowing that Elder like I did, I realized this was more than a request. I got in my car and started driving. Soon I noticed a police car was behind me. He stayed behind me right out to the farm which was run by three brothers. I pulled up by the barn where an ambulance was parked.
Seeing me, my elder came over. He told me this: “My four-year-old nephew was killed by the tractor’s power-takeoff-unit. They gave me some blood-spattered clothes and asked me to dispose of them in a Christian way. We had a prayer and then someone said, “Someone is going to have to tell the child’s mother. Pastor you’re going to have to do it.”
This was something they had never trained me for at Seminary.
As I drove to town I searched for the right words. I knew I would ask to visit with her in a private room. But what then? When I told her, would she go into shock; would she become hysterical; would she faint? I had no idea what to expect.
I arrived where she worked; had her sit down in the office and I said, very slowly, “Your four-year-old was killed in a farm accident. It was instantaneous.” Then I stopped, prepared to answer the flood of questions I was sure would be forthcoming. Those questions didn’t come. At least not then.
What that mother did do was this: she let out a long breath and said, “Thank you, Lord, that’s one of my children I won’t ever have to worry about. He’s safe with you now.”
And that’s when I realized what faith really was.
Knowing that Elder like I did, I realized this was more than a request. I got in my car and started driving. Soon I noticed a police car was behind me. He stayed behind me right out to the farm which was run by three brothers. I pulled up by the barn where an ambulance was parked.
Seeing me, my elder came over. He told me this: “My four-year-old nephew was killed by the tractor’s power-takeoff-unit. They gave me some blood-spattered clothes and asked me to dispose of them in a Christian way. We had a prayer and then someone said, “Someone is going to have to tell the child’s mother. Pastor you’re going to have to do it.”
This was something they had never trained me for at Seminary.
As I drove to town I searched for the right words. I knew I would ask to visit with her in a private room. But what then? When I told her, would she go into shock; would she become hysterical; would she faint? I had no idea what to expect.
I arrived where she worked; had her sit down in the office and I said, very slowly, “Your four-year-old was killed in a farm accident. It was instantaneous.” Then I stopped, prepared to answer the flood of questions I was sure would be forthcoming. Those questions didn’t come. At least not then.
What that mother did do was this: she let out a long breath and said, “Thank you, Lord, that’s one of my children I won’t ever have to worry about. He’s safe with you now.”
And that’s when I realized what faith really was.