Character Test
"Be Strong and Courageous!" The exhortation is repeated four times in the first chapter of Joshua.
We never know when our mettle will be tested, but in those moments one's true character is revealed. One of those times came for me in January 1997. I was driving my dad home from the doctor's office. The prognosis was not good.
Cancer! A simple word that can tilt your world upsidedown. January is a cold time in the north. The lush summer green is washed out by snow and denuded trees. I did not know that the next six months involved three operations, five weeks in the hospital and those 20 final days at the nursing home.
I had a choice to make.
I knew people (born again, church-going, Bible-reading people), who blamed God when the scourge touched one of theirs. In one case, a young widow with young children; the other the loss of a son. They blamed God for sin and death.
It is easy to blame God.
I had a choice to make. I had young kids who would watch and learn over the ensuing six months.
There are no road maps for this treacherous stretch of life. Emotions come fast and hard. The choices come down to blaming God or grabbing on for the ride.
Courage? I don't know about that.
Strength? Not mine.
I leaned on the Shepherd during the hard times in 1997. I know bitterness dogged my steps. Anger greeted me every morning. Despair was my companion. Like a simple child I held onto the Shepherd's robe and we walked thru the valley together.
Storms like this come all at once. There are no warnings. It is best to know the God of the Universe and take Him at his Word.
We never know when our mettle will be tested, but in those moments one's true character is revealed. One of those times came for me in January 1997. I was driving my dad home from the doctor's office. The prognosis was not good.
Cancer! A simple word that can tilt your world upsidedown. January is a cold time in the north. The lush summer green is washed out by snow and denuded trees. I did not know that the next six months involved three operations, five weeks in the hospital and those 20 final days at the nursing home.
I had a choice to make.
I knew people (born again, church-going, Bible-reading people), who blamed God when the scourge touched one of theirs. In one case, a young widow with young children; the other the loss of a son. They blamed God for sin and death.
It is easy to blame God.
I had a choice to make. I had young kids who would watch and learn over the ensuing six months.
There are no road maps for this treacherous stretch of life. Emotions come fast and hard. The choices come down to blaming God or grabbing on for the ride.
Courage? I don't know about that.
Strength? Not mine.
I leaned on the Shepherd during the hard times in 1997. I know bitterness dogged my steps. Anger greeted me every morning. Despair was my companion. Like a simple child I held onto the Shepherd's robe and we walked thru the valley together.
Storms like this come all at once. There are no warnings. It is best to know the God of the Universe and take Him at his Word.
posted by American Novelist at 5:40 PM
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