Hallelujah Moments

The unconditional love and genuine acceptance that Steve and Lisa had for their little son, Erik, was obvious the first time I met them in my role as the Disabilities Ministry Director of my church. I knew right away that this was a remarkable family. While keenly aware of his disabilities, Steve and Lisa saw Erik for exactly who he was – not a kid with microcephaly, cerebral palsy, and a seizure disorder, but a very special little boy created with a delightful personality and a unique purpose for his life. Steve and Lisa accepted and loved their son without conditions. They rejoiced in their son, but at the time we met, Steve had no idea that he had a Creator, a Heavenly Father, that rejoiced in him as well.

As Steve witnessed the love and support that was lavished on his little family through the volunteers and staff of our disabilities ministry, the love of our Heavenly Father became real to him for the first time. Steve was radically and dramatically changed in the light of God’s love. His love for Lisa changed. It was no longer a smothering, stifling kind of love but was a love that protected, supported and encouraged. It was love based on respect and rooted in selflessness. Once Steve learned about it, He clearly followed the apostle Paul’s admonition to the Christian men of Ephasus by loving Lisa just as Christ loved the church. Steve became one of the best examples I have ever known of a godly husband.

And Steve’s love for Erik changed as well. While many men who father sons with severe disabilities spend their lifetime mourning the fact that their sons will never play football, ride a bicycle or become President, Steve became that rare exception who accepted and loved his son without conditions. Steve’s love for Erik was never forced or faked. I never had the feeling that he loved Erik simply because he ”had” to. As his relationship with the Lord matured, Steve began to love Erik just as our Father in Heaven loves each of us, extravagantly and unreservedly. Yes, Steve’s life was radically changed by his acceptance of Jesus as His Lord and Savior. His life was characterized even more than before by kindness, generosity and compassion. He was devoted to Lisa and Erik. He was a godly witness in his workplace. He served unselfishly in his church. In every aspect of his life, those incredible traits that defined his character before knowing the Lord became magnified and seemed to grow without confines. In every aspect of his life, he glorified the Lord Jesus Christ. And on Easter Sunday, just a few months after being baptized, he was called home to his Heavenly Father. Steve was 43 years old.

Lisa took Steve to the hospital at 8:00 in the morning. At 2:00 in the afternoon she was sitting in the family room of the hospital, all alone, railing against God for taking her husband from her. She was angry, oh, so very angry! Strong words flew from her mouth without reservation. “God, I don’t get it! I don’t get You! How could you allow this to happen? What are you doing? Don’t you care?” Then she suddenly raised her head, and in the midst of that heart wrenching anger, she had a vision of Steve striding confidently toward the exit doors of the hospital, a contented, even joyous, smile on his face. She knew where he was headed, and in the midst of her overwhelming anger, Lisa was given the blessing of peace, the perfect peace that comes only from the goodness of our God and Father.

While loss of such devastating proportions is not something we celebrate, the fact that we can share such vehement and bitter anger with our Lord is. Lisa learned right then and there that we must not be afraid to share our rage with God. He desires a most intimate relationship with each of us, and that includes not only reveling in our praise, but listening closely to our anger. And He is the only one who can transform that anger into thankfulness and peace the only one who can make celebration out of sadness.

Though overwhelmed with loss and grief, Lisa was reminded of her faith in Jesus’ promises. She knew her separation from Steve was only temporary. She was confident that one day her wonderful Lord would wipe away all tears from her eyes and she would be reunited with Steve, never to be parted again.

Steve left this earth for a heavenly mansion largely because a ministry was in place to meet the unique needs of his family. How grateful I am to have been a part of that ministry! When my staff and volunteers put hands and hearts to the love of Christ, they gave Steve a gift even more precious than the respite care or support groups or camps or Sunday School programs they provided – they gave him the precious gift of eternal life.

That same disability ministry, and the body of believers it is a part of, continues to stand equipped and ready to provide the comfort and reassurance Lisa needs to make it through the dark days that still appear every now again. It has been fifteen years since the Lord called Steve home, and Lisa is able to face depression and grief, confident that her Lord will deliver her from heartache and despair; confident that in His perfect time, He will deliver her, victorious, to her heavenly home where she and Steve will celebrate Erik as he stands in the glorious presence of His creator, whole and complete.

In my life, Erik, with his ear-to-ear grin and infectious laugh, has been one of God’s angelic messengers. He is one of our Lord’s most eloquent spokesmen! At a time in my life when I was hungering desperately for the reassurance that God had not forgotten or forsaken me, Erik comforted me in his own incomparable style. After not having seen him for over two years, I wondered if he would even know me. As I lifted Erik from his wheelchair for a hug, his eyes were glued to mine and his hands explored the once-familiar contours of my face. He was “in my face” and the delight that radiated from his toothy smile assured me that he knew me. Later that night, I couldn’t get the incident out of mind, and suddenly it struck me – HE knows me! Just as Erik had not forgotten me, neither had my Lord. No matter how far away I might have felt, the love of Christ was indeed constant. My Father in Heaven, who numbers the very hairs on my head, will never forsake or forget me. It was with a grateful heart that I prayed that night, thankful for this very special “hallelujah moment” that reminded me of the never-failing faithfulness of God’s love.

I am so thankful for all the “hallelujah moments” my Lord has blessed me with through this precious little family, moments that remind us all that in the midst of chaos and tragedy, there is indeed cause for celebration: God is walking through the valley with us and in His time, He will take from us our anger, our grief, even our feelings of separation and restore us to Himself in peace.