Twenty-six years ago, I had just started my cleaning business, and Carah worked the front desk at Worldmark in Angels Camp. We did this so our kids had no childcare. I would work until 2:30 in the afternoon, and Carah would go to work at 3 PM and work until midnight. We passed like ships in the night for one year. We endured this because we had to do what it would take after losing my job. I am sure the kids were thrilled to have mom home at bedtime every five days.
One thing my wife often shared with me was how stressed people were arriving after dark. The stress was caused by the same thing every time, and the comments were always the same: “We have not seen a street light since we left Stockton!” Carah and I often giggled about this at 12:30 at night when Carah got home from work. It was funny what we had become accustomed to. They were accustomed to street lights, and we were accustomed to stars and moonlight.
I have become accustomed to a few things in my life. The first one is the Shalom of the Lord. Shalom is the kind of peace that transcends all understanding, and I always want it in my home and workplace. The other thing I value in my life above everything else is the Light of the world, Jesus Christ.
But in the past eight days, darkness has been raining down on my life, and at times, it has become overwhelming. It started on the 5th of February with a phone call from a church member who lost the battle with cancer and entered the presence of Jesus. I can celebrate this fantastic reality, but it was short-lived. Soon, the world of darkness crashed on me.
Over the following seven days, I got news of 4 suicides. Two were very personal, and the others impacted my life by counseling those devastated by the devastation suicide brings. Soon, the things I value so much in my life seemed distant, the peace seemed distant, and the Light was not as bright with my surroundings so dark. But was the Light less?
This morning, I got to work, and I was empty! I had a Zoom class I could not do and a sermon to complete, but I could not open it. I was broken. Then, a song titled “Lean Back” by Capital City Worship came on. The first two verses go like this.
“You will never leave
Your love sustaining me
Before I even knew what love was
You’ve brought me here to rest
And given me space to breathe
So I’ll stay still until it sinks in
I will lean back in the loving arms
Of a beautiful father
Breathe deep and know that it is good
He’s a love like no other?
Then, it hit me like an unnoticed wave in the ocean. The Light was not dimmer; I was leaning on my strength. I was not “leaning back” on Jesus, which allowed me to be surrounded by Him. I was trying to walk in my own strength, and I was not leaning on Jesus. I immediately went to scripture and prayer. I was crying before the Lord; I was lifting all the prayer cards of Vine and Branch while worship music was softly playing, and another song came on.
That song is titled “Another In The Fire.” In that moment, I knew I was never alone in this darkness, that Jesus was with me in the fire of darkness the entire time, but I never slowed down to notice. I was not calling on him; I had not surrendered this darkness to Him.
I know the world sees surrender as a weakness, but I know that surrender is the very thing that allows the power of Jesus to work in our lives. I do not understand what you are struggling with today, but I suggest going before the Lord and offering complete surrender. Maybe after your surrender, you, too, will see “Another” in the fire. Jesus filled me this morning in a way that would have never occurred in my own strength. See you Sunday at 9:30 as we open the Word together and walk our brokenness together with surrender to Jesus.
In Him,
Pastor Chris