Schrödinger's Salvation

You've likely heard of Schrodinger's cat, in which Erwin Schrodinger suggested that a cat in a steel box was both alive and not alive at the same time. In this thought experiment, with the purpose of explaining properties of quantum mechanics, Schrodinger suggested that there is a steel box which contains a cat, along with a Geiger counter, a hammer, and a vial of poison. If the Geiger counter detects radiation, it will cause the hammer to fall, breaking the vial, and thus killing the cat. But from outside the box, one doesn't know whether this has already happened or not. So from the perspective of someone outside the box, the cat is both alive and not alive at the same time, and both statements are true. Only when the observer opens the box do they see the cat in one state or the other.

As I was hiking in Yosemite today, I was thinking that many Adventists are in what I would call a state of Schrodinger's Salvation. They know they have the gift of salvation, yet at the same time, don't know if they do. Let me explain.

A number of years ago, my friend, Elliott, related a story to me. He is a chaplain at Kettering Medical Center. He stood beside the bed of a woman, 90 years old, facing the end of her life. She had been an Adventist Christian all those years. But as she realized her days were ending, she was in tears. "What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not good enough?" She had no assurance that she would be in Heaven.

I had a similar conversation a couple of years ago with a dear friend, an older lady who has also lived her whole life in the Adventist church. We were talking about Jesus' coming. She said, "When we go to Heaven..." Then she paused, and said, "Well, if I go to Heaven..." I said, "What do you mean, 'If?'" She replied, "Well, we can't know for sure."

A similar conversation happened in my Bible classroom last week. One of my freshman students said, "We can't know for sure that we'll be saved."

Do you see it? Schrodinger's Salvation. We know we are saved and don't know we are saved at the same time.

I believe that if you asked any of these individuals if Jesus gave the gift of eternal life, they would absolutely say yes. But when facing it themselves, they're not sure. This is a problem.

The Bible tells us that "the gift of God is eternal life." The apostle John says, "I write these things so that you may know that you have eternal life." Paul tells us to put on the helmet of salvation. The instruction to put it on assumes that we have it. So scripture is clear that the gift of salvation is ours to have, and to know that we have. 

It seems to me that many Adventists have somehow missed this message. They wonder if they're good enough. Have I confessed all my sins? Have I overcome my sins? The answer to these things is no. We aren't good enough. But Jesus is. He lived a perfect life. And scripture says, "He has become our righteousness." His record stands in place of ours if we say Yes to Him. It's not about us being good enough. It's about living in relationship with the one who is very, very good.

Imagine that I give you and your family a Christmas gift - a trip to Hawaii. You pack your suitcases, get in the car, and head to the airport. One of your kids says, "Are you sure we're going to Hawaii?" You answer, "Well, I'm not really sure. We'll go to the airport and see if they let us on the plane." It seems to me that in this case, I'm not very trustworthy. I've given you a gift, but you don't know if you can trust me to come through with that. You'll only be sure if they let you on the plane and it takes off. My trustworthiness as a gift-giver is in question all the way to the airport, as is your Hawaiian vacation.

Isn't this what we do to God? He has promised us salvation. I believe God is the most trustworthy gift-giver ever. But I hear people saying, "We won't know until He comes back and people start flying through the air to meet Him. Then we'll see if we're one of them." Aren't we calling God's trustworthiness as a gift-giver into question?

Schrodinger's Salvation. We know we have salvation and we don't know at the same time. 

I'm not much of a fan of cats, so Schrodinger can keep his cat. He can keep his salvation, too, as far as I'm concerned. Instead, I'll take Jesus's promise of eternity, the gift He has given us. I will trust Him to keep that promise, and live saying Yes to Him every day until then.

What can I learn from Jesus about election day?

What can I learn from Jesus about election day? To me, this is an important question today. Followers of Jesus should always look to Him to inform how we live this life. So back to the question - what can I learn from Jesus about election day?

Very simply, nothing. It may surprise some that Jesus had very little to say about how to choose government leaders. He didn't say much about politics at all. He certainly had the opportunity. He lived in a country that was being ruled by a foreign power. Many of His fellow countrymen wanted to rise up against Rome. They were violently opposed to the ones who ruled over them. And they wanted Jesus to share in their sentiments. "Jesus, is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?" "Give me a coin - whose picture is on it?" "Caesar's." And then Jesus' classic response: "Then give to Caesar what is Caesar's, give to God what is God's."

Do you hear what Jesus is saying? "You want to talk about Caesar? Great, let's talk about him. Give him what's his. Do your civic duty. But what I really want to talk about is how you and God are doing right now." 

Salvation isn't in politics. It's not in a candidate or a party. It doesn't come from the government. And Jesus didn't tell His followers to look to the state for His plan.

That hasn't changed. An awful lot of Christians hold up one candidate or another, one party or another, as the tool God will use for His plan. I don't see that in scripture. In Colossians 1, Paul speaks of Jesus: "He is the head of the body, the church." In Ephesians 3, he says, "His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realm."

God's plan is to use the church, His body, to do His work, not the state. 

In Adventist theology, our understanding of the great broad themes of history are shown in the prophecies of Daniel and Revelation. It seems from these books that dangerous things happen when earthly powers try to get involved in spiritual matters. When I hear church members tout one candidate or another because they are "God's candidate," that causes me great concern. The New Testament makes it clear that God uses the church, not government leaders. This doesn't mean that He has no interest in such things. Colossians 1 says of Jesus, "For by Him all things were created; things in Heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by Him and for Him." But it doesn't say that He is dependent on those rulers or authorities for His Kingdom.

So today, give to Caesar what is Caesar's. Do your civic duty, and vote your conscience. But please, let's not look to one candidate or the other, one party or the other, to do God's will. That's our job.

Race Issues in the Adventist Church

I am a Seventh-day Adventist. I love my church. I believe that the teaching of my church paints a beautiful picture of who Jesus is. But my church is not perfect. Like any organization run by people, there are problems, challenges that we face. Two of the biggest, in my view, are issues of diversity and inclusion. We still don't ordain women, even though we recognize that God calls women into pastoral ministry. That's a serious problem, one that hurts these women who want to serve as God has called them to do. It also hurts us as a church, keeping us from the unity that Jesus prayed for.

The other issue is race. In the US, the Adventist church organization is divided into conferences. Most of these are made up of one or two states. However, a number of these conferences are identified by skin color. To say it frankly, we have black conferences and white conferences. Of course, we don't call them by those names. The conferences that primarily serve the African-American communities are called Regional Conferences. They were originally set up to minister specifically to the black community, but have become more multi-cultural in recent years. But they are still predominantly African-American.

The other conferences are primarily white, though most also have strong multi-cultural ministries. Both conferences have Hispanic ministries, Korean churches, and others reaching out to various demographics. But ultimately, the church organization is characterized by racial division.

I understand that there are multiple reasons that this structure continues to exist. The regional conferences are set up to meet the needs of our black members in many ways. One of these is developing young black men and women into leaders, and providing opportunities for them to serve our church.

There have been many conversations through the years about changing this structure. There are many in each of these conferences who desire unity, who see the many problems that come with having a church organization divided by race. But the solutions don't come easy. If the church said we're going to do away with the separate conferences, and come together as one conference, then questions arise. Which of these two presidents will now serve as president - the black president or the white president? Which treasurer will continue in that position? Which youth director? We all value our jobs, our ministries. I truly believe we would love to see answers to these questions, but who's willing to step aside to make that happen? Would there still be leadership opportunities equally for all races?

I appreciate the wisdom and experience from my friend, James Black. James has served as Director of Youth and Young Adult Ministries for one of the regional conferences, and served in this same role at the North American Division. In a recent Facebook post, he spoke on the current racial issues we're facing in this country, particularly in light of the murder of George Floyd. In the comments, someone raised the question, How do we address these questions as a nation, when we serve in a church divided? James answered wisely:

"It is very unfortunate that the system of Regional (Black Leadership-led) Conference had to be established in order for the Adventist message to spread to black communities. Currently, although still titled "Regional" Conference, there are no more all Black membership conferences. Each one has significant diversity and multiethnic groups. However, the greater purpose for Regional Conferences has been to produce quality black leaders. For the whites in state conferences who ask this question, I share the truth that structure will change when they allow a black born southerner like me to serve as their conference president. In most cases the discussion always ends there and I don't have to ask why."

It seems to me that it's time to talk about these things. I'm reminded that the racial issues we see in our country, as evidenced by George Floyd's death, still exist because we haven't been willing to talk about it. When black athletes took a knee to start the conversation, we didn't listen. It's easier to not talk about things that make us uncomfortable, but then the problems remain. They continue as our "dirty little secret." Could this be true in the church, as well? We don't want to have this difficult conversation, so we keep it quiet. We'll talk about racism in our country, but to talk about it in our church structure is a little too close to home. Maybe we've given up and decided there's nothing we can do, so we'll go on the way it is. But is that really okay? Are we satisfied with "separate but equal," which really just means "separate"?

I realize this comes from the thoughts and opinions of a middle-aged white man. Before clicking on "Publish," I'm sending it to some African-American friends whose perspective I value greatly. I want to know if they see these things as a problem, or is there another side of things that I need to see. I want to be part of the solution, one that comes from listening to those whose life experience is different than my own.

I don't know the answer, but I want to be part of the conversation. I've sometimes thought that the issues may be bigger than we can solve this side of Heaven, though I hope that's not true. But if it is, my question is, How do we find unity even within division?

I will always value a conversation in my office started by my friend Lawrence. Lawrence was an African-American man who was a member of the Madison Campus Church, part of the Kentucky-Tennessee ("white") Conference. His daughter was a counselor at Indian Creek Camp, and I enjoyed working with her there. Lawrence came to my office and said, "Do you know what the longest 11 miles in the world are?" Curious, I said, "No, tell me." He replied, "It's the 11 miles between this office and the South Central Conference office (the regional conference, also headquartered in Nashville.)" He continued, "Those 11 miles are so long, no one ever drives that distance. No one from either office ever visits the other, even though we say we're here to do the same thing - minister to this community."

Lawrence was right. We knew the staff at the other office. Every year, the Southern Union would get all the conference personnel together several times. We had meetings every November in Daytona, and we'd enjoy time together. We'd meet together to talk about ministry issues, we'd eat together, we'd play together. I knew the youth directors from all the conferences, and considered them friends. But then we'd go back to our respective offices, and wouldn't talk again until our next union meetings. As Lawrence pointed out, we never drove across town to talk to one another.

I'm thankful for Lawrence. He pointed out my blindness. I was saddened, but what I saw had been true about me. That afternoon, after he left my office, I picked up the phone and called the South Central Conference Youth Department. Lorenzo Shepherd was the Youth Director there, and Roy Parham was the associate. They are fine men of God, who I hadn't taken the time to get to know as I should. I asked Lorenzo ("Shep") if he'd like to get together for lunch. In his graciousness, he said he'd love to. I invited him to bring Roy with him.

We got together at Black-Eyed Pea restaurant over lunch. We spent time talking, getting to know each other better. We talked about our families. We talked about ministry. And before lunch ended, we agreed that we should do ministry together. We didn't have the power to change church structure, but we could get our kids, our youth, together. Over the next few years, we worked together to host a youth rally together every year. We alternated which conference would host the event. We had a black speaker one year, a white speaker the next. Our music represented the diversity of our people.

At the end of the first event we co-hosted, we had many church members tell us thank you for doing this. There was a great hunger for events that would break down the walls of separation within our own part of the body of Christ. To this day, I'm so thankful for Lorenzo and Roy, for their vision and desire to come together.

In the kingdom, we will worship and serve Jesus side by side. Until then, what can it look like here? What should it look like here? Our country is having this conversation, talking about things we haven't been willing to talk about openly. It is my prayer that our church can do the same.

_______________________

I wrote the section above about a week ago. Since that time, I've been learning. I spent a lot of time on Google, searching "Black Adventist History." I learned a lot, though it's just the tip of the iceberg. More importantly, I've had some conversations with kind friends. I talked for an hour with James Black, from the North American Division. I've exchanged messages with Lorenzo Shepherd. I talked with Jeremy Winston, our music director at the Kettering Adventist Church. These gentlemen were gracious in sharing their thoughts, their experiences in this area.

My takeaway from this week of learning (and I want to do much more) is that the church structure is not likely to change this side of Heaven, and that may be okay. I've seen a number of social media posts this week calling for separate conferences to be done away with. Interestingly, these posts are all from white friends of mine. I haven't seen this coming from blacks. This tells me that the people calling for this change have good intentions. Their hearts are in the right place. There is a desire for unity. But one has to ask, then, why the members of the regional conferences aren't joining in on this. My friends spoke to this issue.

When we say "Join together," the idea behind it is usually to close the regional conferences and come together in the state conferences. Rarely is it suggested that we close the state conference and join the regional conference, becoming one that way. There's a big difference between these two ideas, and the prevailing view is that the black community should set their structure aside to join with the whites. This continues to show a thought pattern of white supremacy. 

To leaders in the regional conference, there is a sense that the conference is looking out for its people. Take the same group of people and put them in a combined conference, but with a white president, and there will always be a question - "Does this person have my back? Are they going to look out for my best interest, along with their own?" Unfortunately, history tells us that this is a legitimate concern. In one of my conversations this week, the question was asked, "Can I trust the people I serve and worship with?" I think it's fair to suggest that those of us in the white conferences haven't always given reason to think they can.

With all this in mind, here's my thoughts on moving forward. The first step we need is conversation. We need to listen to each other, to hear each other's stories. I need to hear from my black brothers and sisters what their experience has been with the church organization. I need to share with them my own battles in this area, as I've wondered what unity looks like in the body of Christ.

Then we need to begin doing things together. In Tennessee, I was so blessed to be part of a work with Lorenzo and Roy to get our kids together. It seems to me that this sort of ministry would be the place to start. If you're a pastor, a youth pastor, a conference department director, what are you doing in ministry with your counterparts in the other conference? Make the phone call, get together, combine your budgets, and make ministry happen together for and with your people. Don't wait for your leadership to take this step. Start at the local church. Start in the Youth Ministries Department. Start with Women's Ministries. Wherever you are, take that step.

At the end of my conversation with James, I asked him, "What does success in this area look like? What would you like to see five or ten years from now?" I absolutely loved his answer. "It doesn't matter what I'd like to see. I want to know, what does God want to do five, ten years from now? His dreams are far beyond mine." (I didn't take notes, so these words are a paraphrase of his.) We need to be in prayer asking God what He wants this to look like. James went on to suggest that the future really belongs to the youth and young adults of our church. To my young Adventist friends, it's time for you to be in prayer on these issues, and to decide what the future of our church looks like. Please, lead the way. Show us unity in diversity and inclusion. There are many of us ready to support you, to stand behind you and with you as you lead us.

Once again, these are just a few thoughts from a middle-aged white guy. I look forward to hearing from others, as together we pray for and take action for the unity Jesus prayed about for us.

Water Walkers?

Driving down the road, I was listening to music on Christian radio. They were playing the latest song from Rhett Walker, titled Believer. It's a catchy song about how his life's been changed since he was found by Jesus. The chorus says, "I'm a mountain mover, water walker, more than just an overcomer, 'cause I've been set free."

As I listened, I was thinking about the phrase, "water walker." This, of course, comes from the story of Jesus walking on the water, and calling Peter to come out and do the same. It's a great story that captures our imagination. There was another song about this a couple of years ago, called "WaveWalker." Preachers like to talk about this story, as well. I've heard a number of sermons on it through the years. The sermons and the songs seem to reflect one idea: Jesus calls us to walk on the water, to exercise our faith by getting out of the boat and do great things for Him.

As I listened to the song, the thought struck me that this isn't really what this story is about. I went back to the gospels to read the narrative. Matthew, Mark, and John all share this story. The context is important. This comes immediately after Jesus feeds the multitude with five loaves of bread and two fish. This was an amazing miracle, and John tells us that the people were ready to make Jesus king by force at this point. Given other references that clue us in to the disciples' desire for power in Jesus' kingdom, we can probably assume that they thought the idea of making Jesus king was a good one. They would have been ready to get behind that, and probably would have led the crowd in this effort. But that wasn't Jesus' plan. 

The writers tell us that Jesus made them get into the boat and go to the other side, and then He dismissed the crowd, sending them home. I imagine there was much grumbling as the disciples obeyed, getting into the boat and beginning to go across the lake. The story says that there were strong winds that night, so the passage across the water wasn't easy. The waves were high. Even though He said, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light," sometimes obeying Jesus' commands can be a lot of work.

The story says that Jesus went to pray by Himself, but then, knowing what the disciples were going through, He walked across the water to where they were. Mark says He was going to just walk past them, but they saw Him, and were terrified. To be fair, they only had two options as to what was going on - either someone was walking across the water, which wasn't at all reasonable, or this was a ghost, which also wasn't reasonable. They went with the ghost option - apparently that was less unbelievable than somebody walking on the water. 

Jesus stops, knowing their fear, and says, "Take courage! It's Me. Don't be afraid!" I think it's important to notice here what He doesn't do. Jesus doesn't say, "Come on, all of you, get out here on the water with Me." They are doing what He told them to do, sitting in the boat, rowing across the water. Of course, Peter, always impulsive, says, "Lord, if it's You, tell me to come to You on the water." 

"If it's You." Interestingly, these are similar words to the ones Satan used in the wilderness - "If you are the Son of God..." Words of doubt, but with very different motivation. Satan used them to try to plant doubt in Jesus' mind. Peter uses them expressing his own doubt. Thankfully, Jesus knows our hearts. He meets Peter where he is, and says, "Come." Of course, we know what happens next. It's a big failure on Peter's part. He steps out of the boat, takes a few steps, is overwhelmed by the waves, and starts to sink. He calls out, "Lord, save me," and again, Jesus meets him where he is, catching him and helping him into the boat. 

As I review the story, I understand why preachers and songwriters are captivated by it. We all want to have the kind of faith Peter had, even in the midst of his doubt. We want to believe that we also would step out of the boat if Jesus calls. We want to do great things for God. But notice that it doesn't seem to be Jesus' intention to call anyone out of the boat. He only does so in response to Peter's expression of doubt/faith. He never calls the other eleven to get out of the boat. They are honoring Him by being in the boat, doing what He told them to do. 

It seems to me that we too often miss the point of the story. I don't think the point is that we're supposed to get out of the boat, or to walk on water. The point of the story to me is that Jesus knows what we're going through, and makes His presence known. We are called to do what He asks, even if it's difficult, and He is always there with us, saying, "It is I! Don't be afraid!" He may occasionally go beyond that, as He did with Peter, to meet us where we are, but that's the exception.

So I wonder, am I as willing to be a boat-sitter as I am to be a wave-walker? Am I willing to serve in whatever way He calls me, without needing to ask for a miracle? Do I love Him enough to do what He asks, fighting against the waves, no matter what? I pray that my answer to that will be Yes.

Heaven's Wall and Hell's Borders?

In the last few days I've had a number of friends - a surprising number, really - post a photo that reads, "Heaven has a wall and strict immigration policies. Hell has open borders." Then it ends with that overused phrase, "Let that sink in."

As I read this, it strikes me that it paints a very different picture of God and His Heaven than scripture does.

The first verse that comes to mind is one written by one of Jesus's closest friends, Peter. He says that God is "not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." (2 Peter 3:9)

Then I think of the parable Jesus tells in Luke 14. In this story, a man prepares a feast, and those invited decline the invitation. So the man says to his servants, "Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame." The servant does so, then says, "Sir, what you ordered has been done, but there is still room." So the man replies, "Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full." (Luke 14)

Again, Timothy states this same idea: "He wants everyone to be saved and to understand the truth." (I Timothy 2:4)

Scripture paints a picture of an inclusive God of love, one who wants everyone to come in. The statement that some are sharing on social media does the opposite, it portrays a picture of an exclusive God, who makes it hard to get in.

I responded on a couple of my friends' posts with this: "Heaven's government has made it easy for anyone to get in who wants to - simply say yes to Jesus. Heaven's government wants everyone to be there, wanting none to be kept out. Those who get in do so at a great price to the government - the very life of the Leader."

Some argue, "But what about the law? Aren't we a nation of laws?" Indeed, Heaven is built on God's laws, and these laws serve as entry requirements to the kingdom. But in His wisdom and love, God realizes that everyone of us is a lawbreaker. "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23) So He pays the price for our lawbreaking, and credits us with His perfect record, his righteousness. Then He says, "Come unto Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

So, dear friends, let your politics be what they may. But when it comes to painting a picture of God and His kingdom, let's show the God of scripture, the God who revealed Himself in Jesus, the God who invites everyone to come in.

Taking a Stand

I enjoy going to ball games. I love the crowd, the game, the hot dogs. I love standing as the Star-Spangled Banner is sung. I find it meaningful that we take those moments to celebrate what it means to be Americans. I stand because I love our freedom. I stand because millions of men and women have fought for that freedom, many giving their lives for this country.

As I stand, though, I recognize that each of our stories are different. Life in America has been good to me. I've had opportunities that many around the world haven't. But I have dear friends whose story has been different from mine.

Several months ago, after yet another news story came out about a black man being shot by police, one of my African-American friends, a young pastor, shared his experience. He talked about the fear he felt when being stopped by police, which sometimes happened when he hadn't done anything wrong. He wondered about the day when he would have to talk to his children about living in a country where there is fear simply because their skin is darker than others.

As I read his words, my heart broke for him, and for all others who his story represented. Of course, I couldn't relate to the story. I've never felt that kind of fear during a simple traffic stop. But I realized that the simple fact of my inability to relate demanded that I listen. I need to hear the stories of others, to listen to those stories, so that I can understand their experience, their feelings.

Today, many NFL players took a stand for what they believe by not standing during the anthem. Some chose to kneel, while some entire teams chose to stay in their locker room until the anthem was finished. As I look at social media, I see dear friends expressing a wide range of views on this. Some support the players, others boycott the games to express their disagreement with the players' actions. Each one has reasons for their position, and I find that there are important points on both sides.

It seems to me that the right to protest is at the heart of what it means to be an American. The players who chose to kneel were not trying to put down the flag, or the veterans who have served this country. They were making the statement that there are problems in this country that we need to address. Many people complained today that these were a bunch of millionaires seeking attention. But doesn't change happen best when those who have the spotlight take a stand for those who don't? I would suggest that these players were doing exactly what each of us should be doing, letting our voices be heard for those whose voices aren't. It's time to listen to each other, hear each other, understand each other, and stand for one another, whatever that looks like.

But there's another side to the picture that is just as beautiful. The Pittsburgh Steelers chose to remain in their locker room during the anthem. But one Steeler, Alejandro Villanueva, couldn't stay there with them. He came out to the end of the tunnel, stood on the edge of the field with his hand on his heart, standing for the celebration of the country he served while stationed in Afghanistan.

I've written this before, but it still seems important to me today: Stand for what you believe in. Take a stand for your country. Take a stand against injustice. Stand for people who can't take a stand for themselves. I'm thankful to live in America, where standing for what one believes in is the heart of who we are.

Reflections on my kids, on God, on life...

Yesterday I shared a post from a place of deep gratitude that my kids are okay. Friday night I got a text from Kaleigh saying that she was going to the emergency room. She was out for a walk with her mom, and had a tightening in her chest. Her left hand was tingling, and she broke out in a cold sweat. She said later that it felt like her heart had stopped for a moment. Given her ongoing health issues - an autoimmune disease that we've been trying to treat for several years - the possibility of a cardiac event raised immediate concern. At the emergency room they ran a number of tests - x-ray, EKG, blood work. The doctor said there was no sign of anything wrong, and sent her home. Since that time, she has felt better. (Big thanks to the emergency room team at Kettering Medical Center.)

Then on Sunday night I got a call from Alex, asking about our roadside assistance information. He said that he'd been driving back to the summer camp from a staff party, and they were going through heavy rain. He hydroplaned, and went off the road. There were no injuries, though he and his passengers were pretty shaken up.

As any parent would be, I was extremely thankful for the outcomes of both of these incidents. Every parent's greatest fear is that something happens to our kids. I'm so glad my kids came out of these events okay, and in my post, I expressed my thankfulness for God's protection.

But in the midst of my own gratitude for my kids' safety, I was reminded that not all events have these same outcomes. I think of dear friends who have lost children - whether by disease, or accidents, or even suicide. Does that mean that God wasn't there when these parents were praying?

What if the outcomes this weekend had been different? What if Kaleigh's event had been an actual cardiac incident? What if Alex or his passengers had been hurt, or worse? Would that mean that God hadn't been with them?

I'm reminded that we live in a world where hurt, pain, and death are still part of our reality. These realities invade all of our lives - yes, even praying people. Jesus stated the fact very simply: "In this world you will have trouble." We shouldn't be surprised, or assume we've been abandoned, when these things happen.

In the class I taught at the college about spirituality and healthcare, we dealt with the question of Why. We talked about how people who are going through sickness, injury, and death often ask, "Why me?" I suggested to my class that a more appropriate question is "Why not me?" As long as we live in a world of sin, these things are a part of our reality. And as such, I know that throughout my life painful things will happen to me, as well as to everyone I know. Knowing this doesn't change the hurt when we go through these things, but maybe it takes us back to an understanding of the world we live in.

I believe that the things we experience in this life can only be understood when we recognize that there is a battle going on in this world. There is an enemy - Satan - and he is responsible for the hurt, pain, and death that we experience. John, in his first epistle, said, "We know that we are under the control of the evil one." We are in the midst of a controversy between God and Satan, and the enemy is doing all he can to bring pain to God, and to his children. The war won't last forever. Scripture promises that the day is coming when sin and death will be no more, and every tear will be wiped away.

Until that day, God promises His presence. He said, "Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." He promises His Spirit to comfort and strengthen us when we hurt, when we don't get the answers to our prayers that we would wish for. He's still there. Our great need in those moments is to trust Him, to turn to Him with our pain, our sorrow, our questions. One of my favorite songs says, "When you can't trace His hand, trust His heart."

I'm thankful today that my kids are okay. I still believe that God had His hand on them over the last few days. But I still have questions. Why have dear friends lost children? Why is my daughter still battling this illness? Why are there so many things that cause us hurt and pain? But I'm thankful that scripture tells me that "God is love." Maybe, ultimately, that's all I really need to know.