Articles
Just Average People
A snapshot of the church in Rogers, Ark., where I spoke last week on evolution:
- A Vietnamese woman who met her American soldier husband during the Vietnam war. She has lived in the United States since the early 1970s and has been instrumental in converting many family members in her native country. She has a brother who is preaching the gospel. Her husband died several years ago.
- A 95-year-old sister who used to play the fiddle for a country group on the Grand Ole Opry. She still fiddles.
- A 94-year-old brother who has no one to care for him -- fractured his hip, went to the hospital, sent to the nursing home. On his first night at the nursing home, he fell and broke his hip all the way through.
- An elderly couple who drive about an hour one way to worship. They never missed a service during the week.
- The preacher who told me of losing his father several years ago. The father had suffered a heart attack, and the damage was extensive. The preacher went to visit his father, but on Saturday he started to return home so he could preach the next day. His father said simply, “I wish you wouldn’t go just yet.” But the son felt duty-bound to preach, so off he went. His father died the next morning. The preacher choked up telling the story, wishing he had made a different choice that day.
- The preacher’s wife whose buoyant personality was seen in her smile. She lost both her parents and her mother-in-law in the same month.
- Elders who endured a congregational division several years ago yet maintained their vigor, clarity and enthusiasm for the Lord’s work.
- A sister visiting on Sunday who recognized me from a meeting I held in Gulfport, Miss., in 1995. She was in town to see her mother for what turned out to be her last days on earth.
During two of the last meetings I have preached, a member of the congregation has died. Yikes. Is my preaching toxic? No, it’s just life. There were many others in Rogers whose stories I didn’t learn, but they had them. We all do. All of us have our burdens, our regrets, our “baggage.” We all have our mountains to climb.
Which leads to the following reflections:
Life sometimes hurts. That’s no revelation to those who are older, but understanding it doesn’t always lessen the pain. The New Testament doesn’t counsel us to ignore the pain or pretend like it isn’t happening, but it does seek to put it into perspective: “But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you” (I Pet. 5:10). Hang on, help is on the way.
We are not unique. Our struggles and problems are so heavy at times that we are sure no one has suffered like us. But it’s not true. Of our great enemy, Satan, Peter warns his readers to “resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world” (I Pet. 5:9).
God knows our circumstances -- and cares. Peter exhorts his readers to place “all your care upon Him, for He cares for you” (I Pet. 5:7). Truly there are seasons of life that seem too much to bear, but in such times of darkness may we never believe Satan’s whisperings that He is not there or doesn’t care. The pain has a purpose. Sometimes that purpose may be to remind us not to count on this world, not to succumb to the enticements to live for the present. We must not. We’re meant for something bigger, something better: “But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them” (Heb. 11:16).
Centreville is just like Rogers or Anyplace, USA. We are just average people. We have our triumphs and our failures. We need each other for support and comfort. “There should be no schism in the body. ... The members should have the same care for one another” (I Cor. 12:25).
