As you will no doubt guess after reading another post about a David Crowder song, I really do like Crowder’s music–his message. His music feels so real to me. The first song of his that really pulled me in to a better place with God, “How He Loves,” contains the line “these afflictions eclipsed by glory.” Anyone who knows me well probably knows multiple reasons why these words profoundly touch my heart and soul. Well, when I was recently researching this song, I found out that Crowder didn’t actually write it and that the man who did was going through something incredibly painful as he was writing it. According to what I read, John Mark McMillian wrote “How He Loves” the day after his best friend, youth minister Stephen Coffey, was killed in a car accident. Though I was initially surprised by this, it made perfect sense to me after I listened to the song again. The words reflect much emotion, raw and passionate emotion, reciprocal emotion, between God and man; they are reminiscent, in fact, of the Old Testament-recorded Psalms cried out by King David in the most intimate of moments. God is just that close to us.
He’s right there, wherever our “there” is. We do need though, and desperately so, to be reminded of this. He reminded me very recently in a way so sweet that no doubt or thought of “coincidence” could even be entertained. Part of the sweetness of the reminder has to do with the fact that it happened while I was away with my husband and little girl celebrating a “big” birthday, a double digit one actually, which is a very big deal indeed. In lieu of a “big” party, we chose to do what we did last year, and we planned a DB (destination birthday). Thankfully, this wasn’t hard to do since one of our niece’s now lives at the North Carolina coast. Thus, we celebrated my little girl’s life while at the coast with her much beloved cousin; and we had ice cream cake, which was quite appropriate for her “Frozen”- themed party pulled together totally by my niece, and we went to the aquarium to see one of my daughter’s favorite “other creature” pals–an albino alligator named “Luna.” My husband even allowed our now dust mite-sensitive daughter to come home with a small stuffed Luna, in a pink purse no less, even though we have recently enforced a stuff animal “ban.”
While we were at the aquarium and just after we had put a coin in the aquarium’s fund-raising funnel, a very kind woman stepped up on the opposite side of us. As she was about to put a coin in on her side, I told my daughter that it’d be really cool to see two coins going at once; but, before I could find another coin, the woman across from us handed one to us. And my daughter and this stranger dropped their coins on the count of three, giving us all the pleasure of a synchronized, double spin. Then, as we made our way to the next floor down, we noticed that this same woman was in the hurricane machine with another woman, whom we would find out later was her mother. Well, after their hurricane experience, the mother of this woman, who had heard us say that it was my daughter’s birthday, came over and handed us $2.00 as a “present” so that we could go into the hurricane machine together. Again, these two women were total strangers.
Then, when my daughter decided that she was too scared to do the hurricane machine, she wanted me to let this kind woman know that she wasn’t going to do it (since this kind woman might want her money back). So, I went over and started talking with this “stranger,” telling her that my little girl didn’t think we should keep the money if we weren’t going to use it the way she wanted us to. She then, of course, told my little girl to spend it on anything she wanted, which turned out to be a $2.00 seashell bead bangle bracelet in the gift shop. I then looked at this woman, after my daughter went on with my husband and niece, and I said, “You’re an educator, aren’t you?” “Why yes I am,” she told me. And we then proceeded to swap our life stories, professionally that is. And it was just then, as I was walking away, that I felt that unexplainable nudge and so I turned back around and said, “I was sick a few years back, with cancer, and I actually published the prayer journal that I kept during my sick season. Just in case you might be interested in something like that, here’s how to find it.” I then handed her one of my cards and I started to move away, feeling a little self-conscious.
There was a pause on my new friend’s end, which made me feel even more self-conscious; and then, this sweet, generous spirit standing in front of me said, “I was just diagnosed with breast cancer, and I start chemo next week.” It turns out she’s being treated at my “rival” big blue hospital and was debating how to best address her upcoming hair loss. She asked me how I handled that and, after I explained what I did, she told me that I had helped her make her decision; she was going to shave her head right away. Then, though my husband had insisted that I clean all of my books out of our van before packing for the birthday beach trip, I remembered that I had “hidden” a few in the third seat. So, I asked my new friend to accompany me to the parking lot, and she did. And I found my book stash and gifted one to her. It turns out too that she had spent time in AA recovering from alcoholism and that she had become a Christian, so a prayer journal from a fellow believer during her own battle with cancer was something that she seemed particularly interested in. She then said to me, walking away from my van with book in hand, “That was the best $2.00 I ever spent.” What a priceless and divine encounter, God!
Yes, all of our afflictions down here are indeed eclipsed by glory. In fact, I’ve found, for myself at least, that I seem to need the afflictions in order to see the glory–to see your Glory, God. I am so thankful for this year’s destination birthday. I am so thankful for my lovely little girl. I am so thankful for my new friend. I am so thankful for the generosity and sensitivity that you, God, put into my new friend’s heart; without it, we might have moved on right past each other without even a second look. I am so thankful for your Spirit in me that nudged me to tell her about my own journey with you. As I too often am, I was almost sheepish (silly pun intended) about my memoir because there’s so very much of you, God, in it; and I still worry sometimes, too many times, about offending people. But, I must get over that because I will never get over you, and I’ll never be content if I’m not sharing you with others in some way. You are glorious–simply glorious. Thank you for reminding me of that. You are a good Shepherd, the best Shepherd in fact, even and especially when I choose to act so foolishly sheepish.
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