When You Can’t See His Hand

  (Blog # 1 in a 3-part series)

Can you fathom the deep things of God or discover the limits of the Almighty? Job 11:7

We can be absolutely sure of God’s sovereignty and His unfailing “rightness,” but still have those moments when we wonder why something happens the way it does. We know that only God can see the end from the beginning, and His “end” is eternity and not just what happens to us in this life. Still, when the worst happens, will we still call God good? Will we trust in His character when we cannot see His hand in our lives? Will we say with David, “I believe that I shall lookupon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living!”

God gave me a remarkable lesson today in calling God good in the most difficult of circumstances. He knew I needed it. He took me by my hand and led me through a day that revealed His goodness and mercy to teach me what I badly needed to learn. He showed me how a Godly woman should walk through tragedy and hard, hard circumstances. As He often does, He used what is dear to me to teach me. I am a mother, so He showed me two mothers who have walked through more difficult circumstances than most mothers ever will.

I started my day with a deep sadness in my heart. A young man who had been a friend of my son when they were little boys had died under tragic circumstances. He had been homeless for some time, and the tragedy rocked me because I have never known a child with more potential. The group of boys that were friends from preschool through the primary grades were all gifted and, to be honest, rambunctious, including mine. But John dazzled. He was so bright and quick and charming, even at a very young age. He was a beautiful child and grew up to be a beautiful man. God withheld no gifts from him.

Even though we had not seen John in almost thirty years, the news of his death threw me into a deep sadness I was having a hard time shaking. I decided to go do a bit of thrifting before I started my writing for the day, thinking that the walking and distraction would help me shake off the heaviness and get my mind off this great loss to the world and to John’s wonderful Christian family.

I dropped into Goodwill, and immediately heard someone literally whooping it up. At first, I could not see where the joyous but very loud sounds were coming from. From time to time, I would also hear this happy bellowing, something between laughter and a shout. Suddenly, I was almost run over by a shopping cart, and it was being pushed at top speed by a young man of about twenty-five who was zooming down the aisle saying, “Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama!” He was thrilled beyond measure to show his adored mother what he had found. It was a pair of khaki pants, and his face was effused with a huge smile when she said he could have them. He may have had developmental issues with his Intelligence Quotient, but his Joy Quotient was fully developed and seemed to have no limits. Pushing a shopping cart seemed to be as fun to him as a Disney ride, and she allowed him to roam the store and bring back things to show her. With each find he made, he would begin calling her with the same urgent, “Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama,” and he would not stop calling her name until he found her.

Apparently, this scene was a frequent one at this Goodwill because all of the employees knew the boy, whose name was Christian, so appropriate for someone so joy-filled. He beamed when he showed his khaki pants to employees and customers alike, and his eyes gleamed with pride over his treasure.

On one of his forays to the other side of the store, I said to his mother, “He has the sweetest spirit.” She smiled and said, “He does. Sometimes it is difficult when he is this excited, but he brings me so much joy. When he was born, I didn’t know what I was going to do, but God used him to bring peace into my life. He taught me peace, and at that point in my life, I didn’t have any.”  The serenity and peace on her face were real.

I walked out of there thinking that this was the lesson God was trying to teach me. When Christian was born to a very young woman who had no peace in her heart, God knew exactly what He was doing. God knew the end from the beginning. What appeared not to be a blessing at all has been the greatest blessing of her life.

I began to think about John, my son, and the group of friends that played sports and did play dates and attended church activities together when they were just little guys.

There was Clarke whom I love tenderly to this day, but who had a vivid imagination. In the second grade, he pulled the fire alarm at school just to see what  would happen. When confronted by the very intimidating principal and asked why he did it, he said, “I have a guardian angel who usually keeps me from doing things like this, but the angel was sick today and had to stay home.” It was the first and only time any of us ever saw the principal at a loss for words.

My son Houston and Clarke were in the same 4K class. The patient and experienced teacher had a system of paper bears on the board. If you talked too much or did not stay on your cushion on the floor, you got your bear moved. Our boys had a problem with both of those things. Sitting still was almost impossible for them. After a week of setting records for having their bears moved so many times, the teacher had a very understanding but informative talk with Clarke’s mom and me. I remember standing in the driveway with Clarke’s mom and saying the unthinkable out loud, “Do you think this could be something that could lead to being a juvenile delinquent?” At that point, her husband drove up and we shared our grave concerns. He started with the words, “They’re just boys!” and proceeded to dismiss all our silly fears and threw cold water on the drama we were brewing. It was not the last time that dear man had to have talks with both his wife and me, and we were better for it.

Since I had a very rambunctious boy myself, I was thrilled when we met Drew and his two boisterous brothers. Up until that time, we had been surrounded by quiet, demure girls. Our cul de sac had been full of them. All the grandchildren in my family were girls- nice, quiet, well-behaved little girls. My dad had been a military officer, and all my siblings were girls, so I had no experience or context for bringing up a boy who went wide open with energy all the time. When we met Drew, his brothers, and the other guys, I knew we had found our people.

Hitch was the loudest. Tall and athletic, he had a voice that just boomed all the time.

But even in this group of athletic, bright, engaging boys, John stood out as a leader. You could just see the great and shining potential in this gifted young man.

I remember having them all over for a birthday party when they were seven. It was the first time my parents had been around the group in a social setting and not on a ball field where all that energy had an outlet. It seemed like chaos to them, but honestly, they were pretty good that day. It’s just that the noise level was decibels above my parents’ comfort level, and the arm punches and crawling over each other to get to the food did not resemble the gatherings of little girls they were used to. It was just so loud. I remember looking over and seeing my parents’ ashen faces, and it looked like their hair was blown straight back. I wondered if they were in shock, but there was no bloodshed or potty talk, so I was actually feeling pretty grateful.

I remember John helping me that day get the other guys to come into some kind of order to get their food. He was a natural born leader and much admired. He was kind to me and used his influence to help corral the other guys. And he always had a ready smile that would escape from time to time, lighting up his entire face. John had a tender heart.

I recently saw an Instagram clip of John from a few weeks before he died. His homeless lifestyle had taken its toll, but he was still very handsome, and still had that smile that was irrepressible. He had wandered into Ponce City Market and had  spontaneously begun to play an unguarded piano beautifully. A woman with a marvelous voice wandered up and began to sing along. That’s when that ready smile of John’s escaped, and his face lit up. He was kind to her and loved the collaboration. He was bringing joy to everyone in the place, and it seemed in that moment he was feeling joy, too. I have found comfort in that.

I began to think about those music lessons his Godly, loving parents had provided for him as they cared for him so tenderly in his youth. Those lessons were never fully forgotten, and that was clear as the music poured forth from his fingers and his heart. And then the Lord reminded me that these parents had also taught him the Word of God, taken him to church, and prayed for him from the time he was born. All that was not forgotten either. His nickname on the street was John the Baptist, because he quoted Scripture to his homeless friends all the time. God brought to mind Isaiah 55:11:

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
    it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
    and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

I pray that in his final hours, that all the Scriptures planted in John’s heart in his young life came back to him as his music did and that He was comforted. I pray that they were like songs in the night.

And I pray with confidence that our sweet Lord, our inexplicable but always loving God, will comfort his parents. I know that John’s mom has for many years comforted other moms whose children have strayed far from home. She is the epitome of “comforting others as she herself has been comforted.”                        (2 Corinthians 1:4.)

As these dear, loving parents wait on the Lord, my prayer is that they will be able to say with David:

^“I believe that I shall lookupon the goodness of the Lord
    in the land of the living!
Wait for the Lord;
    be strong, and let your heart take courage;
    wait for the Lord!   Psalm 27:13-14