Stories

Photo by Bgrace

This morning Emily hopped up on my bed while the rest of the children were still sleeping and said excitedly, "Mom! Can we have Bible time?"  "I already prayed to God a couple of times today.  I've been sitting out on the deck waiting for you. Will you come out and have Bible time with me?"  She asked me yesterday if I would read her the story of David and Goliath this morning.  It was a little earlier than I was expecting, but I somewhat reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and put soy milk and maple syrup in my coffee (it's not as bad as it sounds), grabbed a Bible and settled in next to Em on the deck. 

She was sitting there with her eyes closed and her hands held together in prayer, fingers pointed to the sky.  I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she gave up trying to keep a straight face. "I was praying!!" she laughed.  

We read the story of David and Goliath together.  I added a bit of commentary and Em interrupted whenever a question popped into her mind of any sort.  She came up with all sorts of interesting ideas about why everything was happening and what was going to happen next.  I kept saying, "Em, let me read the rest of the story!!"  She was especially intrigued with the whole chopping off of Goliath's head saga.  We read Psalm 18 afterwards and I explained that David wasn't only a great warrior, he was a musician too.  I explained that Psalm 18 was a song David wrote after one of his victories in battle.   

After we were done I hauled the chairs up from the basement for stripping and she helped me paint it on.  I made her wear safety goggles and gloves and she did great.  We worked quietly together for a while and it gave me time to reflect.

I really enjoyed reading that story.  It's been a while since I've read I Samuel.  I remember how much that story shaped me as a child.  David was but a boy, but he was the only one who saw the situation for what it really was.  It wasn't Goliath and the Philistines against Israel.  It was Goliath and the Philistines against the Army of the Lord.  David knew he could defeat Goliath in the Lord's Name.  Everyone else thought he was crazy, and his brother challenged his motives/his heart.  But for whatever reason Saul gave him his blessing (and tried to give him his armour, but it just wasn't a good fit.)

As I thought about how much that story helped me to have courage to do what the Lord was calling me to do when I was growing up, I realized how to say what I wanted to say about your stories, Dad. 

They shaped me.  A lot.  Growing up I would always think about how much more effective and useful I would be for God's purposes if my life were pure.  (Sure, there were times when legalism creeped into that, but for the most part, I think it was a helpful tool.)  I would think about how God helped you save yourself and the company of men you were point man for--how he used the skills he had given you growing up as a boy and helped you to see the enemy in time to get to safety.  I think the story about how you wouldn't have killed an enemy soldier asking for asylum, even if you had been ordered to, no matter what the consequences because it went against who you were--that story probably shaped me more than any other than I remember.  I wanted to be that kind of person.  I wanted that part of your story to become mine. 

But I also wanted you to write out your stories because I wanted to show something important.  Those were your experiences and they shaped you profoundly.  They taught you something about God.  They taught you about warfare.  They taught you about yourself.  So when you believed that God was calling you to a foreign field you trusted that He would take care of you and your family. A step that for some might have seemed reckless.  You learned to trust Him and stay calm and look for guidance in very difficult situations.  When you were accosted on the bridge and threatened with your life, you didn't panic, and you used the situation to bring light into a very dark place.  When you were kidnapped  with a gun to you and forced to put your head between your knees, you decided somehow it was an appropriate time to talk to your captor about his spiritual journey.  Some might think that a bit presumptuous or on the verge of ridiculous, but your experiences have trained you otherwise.  Your experiences tell of your witness of how God has protected you and led you and used you in situations that would have paralyzed others or caused them to question their calling. 

Today I was thinking about the morning we climbed Mount Katahdin.  The night before I was actually started to sense fear creeping in.  The whole ledge portion you had talked about was starting to press in a bit.  The portion that was only a foot length wide--you couldn't cross your feet and you had to lean into the rock and it was about a mile straight down.  I remembered a Psalm where it talked about the Lord's protection, and something about rocks.  I found it and felt like the Lord wanted me to read it out loud to us.  I read Psalm 91.  I remember your words after I read it.  You said, "Becky, it's really interesting that you chose that Psalm 91.  That was my Vietnam Psalm."  Now Dad, that's the closest I've ever heard you come to saying that there was a divine connection in something.  My experiences have shaped me in a way that I believe there was something more going on than a coincidence in that.  Looking back, I think that the Lord was saying that once again, like He protected you before, He would protect us on our climb. 

The funny thing is, the ledge didn't really bother me.  I was half-way across it before I realized, to my surprise, that it was the place you had talked about.  The CHIMNEY was the deal breaker for me.  I had a to jump blind (backwards) onto two inch wide pointed rock with one foot.  I knew you were going to help me get there, but my legs were shorter than yours and I couldn't get the other one loose to even make the jump.  Those extra couple inches made a huge difference.  The closest ledge down was as good as a mile.  (I mean, when you're comparing fall lengths I think anything past a 1/4 mile is pretty much a kiss good-bye anyway.)  I really didn't think I was going to make it.  It was the first time on the whole trip I felt the panic stronger than the adrenaline.  That's when I remembered Psalm 91.  I needed God to keep more than my foot from striking a stone.  (Thankfully I had studied poetic language and I knew that often times the poet uses a portion or a part as symbolic of a whole.)  I knew the Lord had brought that Psalm to my attention.  I knew He had protected Your life in Vietnam and taught you through that passage, and I knew that He would be faithful to His Words to me that day. He would be faithful to His Psalm. 

Then you showed me how to put my elbow into the cleft in the rock and slide it all the way in so I could support almost the entire weight of my body with my arm while I loosened my leg above enough to lower my other foot below to make the jump to the rock.  I think it was the only time during the entire climb I didn't mind your hand on my butt.  (That's another story...)  Though I was pretty sure if I didn't make it we both were in for a long fall.  But then--it was a Psalm He had given to us both--so I had to trust Him for both of us. 

When I decided to write this post today, I remembered that I have your Bible because you forgot it last time you were here.  (Also not something I chalk up to coincidence.)  I looked up Psalm 91.  You wrote over top of it..."My Vietnam Psalm" and to the side "My Kidnap Psalm".  And then over verses 11-12 you wrote this, "Every time I take off on a plane I take confidence in this."  Over verse 15 you wrote, '"Airports, assaults, difficult situations."   

Dad your experiences have taught you that the Lord speaks to you through Scripture, and that you can trust His Words.  You have taught me that too.

My experiences have taught me that the Lord speaks to me through Scripture (Logos) and also through His spoken Word, (Rhema) and that I can trust His Words. 

I hope that He will continue to teach us through our stories, and I hope that we'll have many more stories of our adventures together.

Now, will you please write out the stories of your kidnapping and of the bridge for me?

Love you,

B