The circumstances . . .
With my car I hit a dear neighborhood boy, last Saturday. His face looks like he has been in a massive street fight. But thank God! He experienced no concussion, no broken bones; and he didn’t even require one stitch to any of his bloody abrasions. It is a miracle. There is nothing figurative, symbolic, allegorical, or allusive about any of this. I surely believe in supernatural miracles. I have been engulfed in one.
The emotions . . .
I wanted someone to run me over with a car. I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself. Over and over, my mind has played the events in a frantic replay . . . this son’s bleeding face . . . this son’s crying out to his father . . . his shaking . . . my shaking.
And then I start thinking of the crucifixion . . . the Son’s shredded face because of my sin . . . and the Son crying out to His Father, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”
O wretched man that I am. I have been weeping and walking floors over my sin, a miserable heap of sad spark and scintillation during this July 4th season. I am broken – emotionally crushed in heart. The hot weather has matched the torridity of my heart.
The healing . . .
My beloved church family has been praying for me. About eight brothers spontaneously gathered around me in a circle this past Sunday morning and prayed. During the evening of this Lord’s Day, for about a half hour, brothers and sisters, one by one, verbally prayed for me and this boy I hit.
Friends have called and emailed me with tender expressions of love.
Slowly, tentatively, I am driving again my ’92 Buick.
I packed my family into our ’97 van and headed to Red Cliff Bible Camp for the family camp meeting. Here is one of the first songs I sang on the mountaintop.
Arise, my soul, arise! Shake off thy guilty fears; the bleeding Sacrifice in my behalf appears: before the throne my Surety stands – my name is written on His hands, my name is written on His hands.
I have been able to take quiet wanders in the woods and to experience long extended periods in prayer with my God. I spoke on prayer to the intermountain assembly, authentically sharing my heart struggles. Let us be the weak, helpless, dependent creatures in the Intermountain West who cling fiercely to our God with persistence and determination.
God does heal the heart with resurrection power. And it is only God who is able – to God alone be the glory. Thank you, Father. Thank you, Son. Thank you, Spirit. O precious, ministering Triune God.