How He Loves

This is a long one. Sorry. Some things I just can't edit down.

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Leave it to David Crowder to have me bawling at 3 in the morning.

“How He Loves” is rapidly becoming my life song. In just the first few bars, I’m lost in it, swirling in a tornado of memories, good ones and bad ones. Scenes from my life play before me in a succession of pain and release, struggle and freedom.

I know my attachment to this song isn’t unique. It’s everybody’s favorite…but for a reason. You can insert your story in between the lines and marvel at how God is bringing it all together.

Last year was the year my life imploded. It wasn’t as though everything had been carefree and happy before, but suddenly, every trial came to a jagged point. Every arrow seemed pointed at my heart. All the constants in my life were shaken, threatened. Some even toppled from beneath me.

I can remember sitting in my living room as I grappled to process a trial I felt totally unprepared for. I vividly recall chills shooting up my arms, my blood seeming to turn to ice as the reality of my situation began to sink in. My heart pounded as the ugly truth washed over me. It was as if time had slowed and I was suddenly in this strange tunnel where I could hear my blood whooshing in my ears.

As I look back on that moment, I am so thankful that though I was bewildered, I was not alone.

It only took seconds in the wake of that heart wrenching moment for me to call out to my Savior. What before had been somewhat habitual and unnoticed suddenly came into sharp focus. My heart was broken, and I knew that’s exactly why Jesus had died for me. Any thoughts of bitterness, of anger, of “why me?” dissolved into a peace that passes understanding.

I heard it as plainly as a whisper in my ear. Be blameless.

That was the first day of the worst two weeks of my life. Two weeks of serious issues that few knew I was dealing with. Two weeks of the most uncertain I have ever been. Two weeks of my very own private, personal hell.

I could no longer take the easy road in following Christ. It was as if I was given an opportunity to prove it. To prove that I really believed everything I said I did, that this whole faith in God thing was more than a tradition of faith passed on to me from generations before. It was a chance to really make a solid choice between what my flesh wanted to do and what His voice was telling me to do. It was my turn to be refined, molded, changed, authenticated.

And when God gives you that opportunity, you don’t say no. I knew I had no chance if I clung to myself. All I had was Him.

I never once doubted He was there. Verses I didn’t even realize I knew by heart flowed easily from my lips. Countless times, I was taken to a Bible story that encouraged my faith. Talking to God was more than routine, it was a feast. And it was not by accident that I first noticed this song the day before everything fell apart. I look back on it and am simply amazed at how God organized every detail of that trial to bring himself glory. What felt like uncertain steps were really puzzle pieces that formed into a magnificent masterpiece that I would never have imagined possible. I clung to the roots of my faith, the simple truth that Jesus died for me, that he rose for my salvation. That he loved me. Even if I had nothing else in this life, I was loved. It wasn’t because I was a good Christian that I survived that trial. It was because the Holy Spirit made it possible. Because he had a plan for my good, for others' redemption, and all of it was for his glory.

That two weeks ended in a spectacular display of God’s grace. Where there had been hopelessness appeared his healing. What should have ended up as an all too common tale of lives broken apart miraculously became a story of redemption--tangible, living proof that God’s love works--that he is present, active, and involved in the lives of his children in ways we don’t always recognize. That when we obey, even if we are hurt, we are not defeated.

And now, over a year later, my life is full. I am blessed beyond measure. I am thankful for that trial. God has put the pieces back together better than they fit before. Yes, there are scars. There always will be. They are a part of my story now. But every scar was soothed with a blessing--something real that I can point to and say “That’s because of God.”

My daughter is one of the biggest. Seth and I had been trying for about six months when all of this happened, but without success. When things got bad, I decided we should stop trying. I didn’t think I could handle a pregnancy at that point. Before, I had been longing to see a positive pregnancy test, wondering if we were done having children. But those negatives turned out to be blessings. God knew what I needed and what would be too much.

But at the end of last year, when the dust had settled, when I was marveling in God’s goodness in the trial, but still sorting through it to make sense of it, God once again intervened and showed his graciousness. I found out on Christmas day that a baby was on the way, much to our surprise.

I can’t look at my beautiful baby girl without feeling that same sense of amazement that I feel when this song is played. God is good. God is at work. God takes what sin meant to destroy and restores it to better than before. When we obey, God puts balm on our wounds and shows us just exactly what we were obeying for.

I am relatively young, and while I can hope that I never have to endure a trial like that again, I’m wise enough to know there will be others in my lifetime. And when they come, I hope that I always go back to the roots, the cornerstone of my faith.

The simple truth that he loves me.