This clap of thunder. One I’ve never heard before. I’ve never heard a sound like this before in my life of 32 years. What was it? Where did it come from? What caused it? I believe in God, and all of His works. I believe in His power. But for some reason, this was different. I couldn’t help but notice that maybe this time, He was serious. Not like He wasn’t the past 3000 plus times. But this time, among so many others, was different.
Seven months ago, I was in Peru for the second time. This time, working aside a missionary friend from Canada. While I was there, he told me about the thunder in Peru. The thing is, in this part of Peru, thunder doesn’t happen. They don’t get rain and the same weather conditions we see here in North America. If I remember the story right, it was about mid-afternoon on a Saturday. Out of no where, with no warning, there were two or three individual loud claps of thunder. I think if I wanted to put this in a way we could understand, it would be like the single clap of thunder that makes us remember individual storms. The one clap that stands out from the rest. The loudest one that shakes our entire house, and at times, shakes us.
The next day at church, the pastor of a church we were able to visit, spent half an hour explaining to the people of his church what had happened the day before. Understandable I thought, considering most of the congregation had never heard a sound like this before. A sound so loud and so powerful, coming from an unknown source. I can only imagine the questions that would have been on their minds and in their hearts. What was that noise? Where did it come from? Was God trying to get our attention? Is God angry with us? Is God trying to say something important to us? Aside from their questions, what about the unchurched people of Peru? I can’t even fathom the questions and fears they may have had.
This day of thunder came to me in a different, but equally scary and question filled time November 2009. After yet another family Sunday lunch, sitting at the dinner table with my siblings and grandparents, my father announced that he had recently been diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma. CRASH!! The clap of thunder meant for me. The questions immediately started to flow. Why? Why dad? He doesn’t smoke, swear, or drink. He’s an honest God fearing man. When I was still living at home with mom and dad it was nothing to catch dad reading his Bible every morning before work. Learning, studying, and growing His relationship with God. He has taught Sunday school for many, many years. His devotion to the children of his class is hard to compete with. Why him God? What did he do to deserve this? How long does he have? What damage are the drugs going to do to him to possibly shorten his life? How is his body going to react to the treatments? Will he be able to handle them? Or will they not be effective enough? Is this going to kill my father?
Too many families have had the experience of hearing those words come from the mouth of a loved one. It is practically impossible to find someone who hasn’t directly or indirectly been affected by this abomination; and with each and every diagnosis, comes different and varying responses and reactions. Immediately, the questions start to flow. Everyone has their own questions. Everyone has their own ways of coping with traumatic situations. Everyone does what they feel they need to do in order to get through their current circumstance.
That day, at my parent’s house, after the questions had stopped, after my dad told us what the doctors knew and didn’t know about his situation, we sat quietly around the table. Silence was only broken by quiet sobs. Some cried, and some just sat there in shock. We all were in shock. Why? Why him? Stunned. Confused.
Over the next few weeks, the questions didn’t go away. Well, at least not my questions to God. The doctors eventually were able to pinpoint where the cancer was, and were able to give us some idea of the treatment strategy. But as I said, my questions to God were still there. My questions had not only induced fear, but they began to spawn bitterness. During those weeks, I’m not sure the guys I work with had any clue what was really going on in my head, or my heart. At break times, I would sit quietly, mentally and spiritually exhausting all those questions. Trying relentlessly to find answers to some of the most difficult questions I’ve ever had. When I was working, I would lose myself mentally, emotionally, and spiritually while listening to songs on my mp3 player. I had it loaded with various Christian artists. While working, I was worshipping and praying. Asking God over and over again the questions that had plagued me since the day my dad gave us the news. Yes, I was angry at God and bitter with Him for choosing to allow my father to come down with this illness, but what choice did I have? What choice did I have but to turn to Him for answers, that at times, seemed like they would never come.
CRASH!! There it was again. Another clap of thunder. It was as if I was standing in a room with God having a conversation. I can’t remember the exact song, it may have been ‘Be Lifted Up’, but during that song is when I heard the words I will never forget. "Are you willing to sit back, and allow Me to be God?" The words were clear. The words were loud. Louder than the music emanating from my mp3 player. Louder than the thoughts and prayers coming from my heart and mind. Words that were clearer and more profound than any thought I could have on my own. But what did they mean? Who said it? Was it really God? Was it God’s way of comforting one of His children? Was it God’s way of challenging me? Testing me? To see if I could really give this to Him? Regardless of the outcome?
During one of the conversations, our family had with dad in the weeks that followed his announcement, dad, in a way I don’t think I’ve seen him before, told us that he was at peace with whatever the outcome of his sickness and treatments. He told us that he was at peace with God and with what God had given him to deal with. This was a measure of peace I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed before. Today’s message at church included the following passage. Philippians 4:6-7. ‘Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand.’ (NLT) My dad, whether he realized it at the time or not, was living out these verses. These verses were being proven because of the obedience my father exhibited. His obedience to God.
"Are you willing to sit back, and allow Me to be God?" These words are with me to this day. They will hopefully be with me until the day I go Home. The peace demonstrated through my father, is one that I cannot fathom. I cannot understand it. Because I’m a hands on person, me sitting back and letting God do His thing is very hard at times. But, that is exactly what God has called me to do, with everything. It is exactly what God has called you to do, with everything. My question, God’s question...with whatever your dealing with...’Are you willing to sit back, and allow Him to be God?"
