. . . it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. August the twenty-first, that is. Even though, as Christians, we understand that God is sovereign over all things, and that even terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days are foreordained and intended for our good and to drive us closer to Christ, we insist on kicking at the pricks and allowing ourselves to become depressed when we find ourselves having to deal with such days.
Such was the situation a few Lord’s Days ago. It was a grey and dismal day, but dry with no particular signs of rain as we left the house. On the way to the building Frank indicated that he was not feeling all that well―a little bit shaky, a little too hot, definitely under the weather but willing to carry on.
We arrived at the duplex only to discover that we had left our “Atlanta Box” behind at the house, and there was no time to go back and get it. The Atlanta Box contains such not-so-minor things as the sermon outline and the bulletins, and sundry other things such as printouts for little children to use during the worship service and large-print Scripture printouts for those who need them.
There was a spark of hope, however, because I always carry a spare copy of the sermon outline in my Bible. “Where is your Bible?” says Frank. “In the Atlanta Box,” say I.
I immediately took the blame for this state of affairs―in fact I suffered a full-blown guilt-trip because I had been the one lining up the things we need to take, near the car, ready for Frank to load them. I felt crushed at my incompetence and immediately felt physically sick and, shortly thereafter, somewhat shaky as well.
Frank, however, found some notes on Genesis that he had prepared for a Bible Study and said he could preach from those. So, again, we decided to carry on, and he left in the van to go and pick up the family that lives furthest from the church building. When he was about five minutes into the drive he called to say that he was feeling so unwell that he needed to come back and pick me up to travel with him to help him concentrate on driving. As I waited for him I realised that maybe we should think about calling off the service and getting to our family’s house (where we were going to be spending the night) so that he could lay down.
As we discussed this, Frank received an extraordinarily distressing text message from someone who used some horrible, disrespectful language followed quite quickly by something else which was distressing in another way.
We laid a sleeping bag and pillow on the floor in the worship area and Frank laid down. Struggling in his own mind about what to do, he decided to call a trusted friend for counsel. He got to his feet as they talked, and I, now close to tears and weak with guilt, laid down in his place. There was an air of spiritual darkness in addition to the darkness of an approaching storm. A nearby clap of thunder added to the drama and the heavy rain started.
The handle on the back door turned, and as the door opened I leapt to my feet, very grateful to see Miss Amy arrive. Not surprisingly she was a little bit stunned at what she saw and I think her words were, “This is ridiculous! This is a bad idea. You cannot carry on. Everyone will understand.” Those words were similar to those that Frank was hearing from his trusted counsellor, who reminded him that though it would be a hard thing for him to call off the service, it would be an act of faith in affirming that the Lord is the one in charge of the ministry.
Shortly after that our two other Sunday school teachers arrived and concurred with the decision, and we set about calling people who would be driving to the service, including our own family. Several of them were already on their way and had to turn around. Frank was then able to call those who would be relying on him to pick them up.
It was a happy Providence that we were going to be spending the night with our son and his family because they were able to welcome us warmly and shower us with tons of TLC―just what we needed. Frank, it turned out, just needed to rest. I just needed to calm down.
I am not proud of my “melt-down”. But I learned a lesson. I may be full of confidence in the Lord’s promises in an academic way, but I showed that evening that, to all practical intents and purposes, I was unable to act upon them. I know that this ministry will continue to put us in trying situations and I trust that I will be better able to deal with the pressure in the future.
The following Lord’s Day we felt physically and spiritually refreshed, and we arrived at the duplex in good shape. We were warmed by the love and concern that our congregation showed us and we had thirty souls in attendance. That evening was not without drama of its own, but, by God’s grace, I remained spiritually strong and able to fulfill my duties with a cheerful demeanor.
But God really is sovereign, and we need to understand this not just academically but absolutely, as we reflect on each trial and see how it does indeed bring us closer to Christ, upon whom we can absolutely cast all our cares for he absolutely does care for us. Even on terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.