But for the Grace of God Go I

The following is the lay witness testimony I delivered on 4/28/2019 at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Edmond, Oklahoma

One of my favorite contemporary preachers, besides Father Mark and the clergy at St. Mary’s of course, is John Pavlovitz. In an essay entitled, “Why Everything Does Not Happen for a Reason,” he writes on a subject with which I have struggled as a Christian for most of my life. Pavlovitz writes of the darkness and pain inherent in human existence and our millennia of history attempting to deal with and make sense of the inevitable tragedies we will all experience at some point in our lives. He writes, “No, I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, but I do believe there is meaning in how we respond to all things that happen to us, even when they are not at all good things.” I have often repeated the phrase, “But for the grace of God go I,” not fully understanding what that actually means. I often encounter other Christians who seem to see God as an all-knowing puppet master who picks winners and losers, and that grace has to do with God’s favor only toward certain people. In reality the prayer book defines grace as, “unearned and undeserved love.” When bad things happen, we often hear about them being “God’s will” or “God’s plan,” a concept with which I’ve always had difficulty. How can a God and a Savior defined by unfathomable love cause, or at least allow, so much pain and suffering in the world?

Like all of you, I have dealt with pain and hardship in my life, though my life has been filled with more blessings and happiness than a man could ever possibly deserve. When Father Mark asked me to share my thoughts about the work Jesus has done in my life, my mind immediately went to all the good and happy moments I’ve been lucky to experience. But as I began thinking of the message I wanted to share, I turned instead to some of my more difficult times. That may sound odd, but as I thought more about my relationship with Jesus, I couldn’t help but think of some specific moments in which He has provided me the strength I needed to endure what were some pretty frightening moments. I’d like to share 3 of them with you today.

Our family’s life changed forever on February 20th, 2012. Our oldest daughter, Lily, had been losing weight and showing other typical signs for weeks, but I refused to recognize what it could be. Thankfully my wife Cindy listened to her intuition and took her to our family physician. Lily’s diagnosis of type 1 diabetes came as a shock to all of us, as we have no family history. She was only 3 years old at the time, and though she was amazing in the way she handled it, it was still difficult for all of us. The day she was diagnosed we had to go to the ER. It was so frightening seeing her in that hospital gown. Once we were assigned a room, I took Olivia, just 1 at the time, home for a nap and to get some clothes for Cindy and Lily. As I turned onto I-35, I noticed that the skies were clearing from an earlier rain, and a rainbow appeared. Right there on the highway in front of me was the end of that rainbow. I took a deep breath as tears filled my eyes. At that moment I felt the peace of God, and I knew that Jesus was with me and with our family. I knew then that our journey, Lily’s especially, would be more difficult, but I also knew that we weren’t alone. Over the years as we’ve watched Lily grow confidently in her ability to manage her diabetes, there has been one constant: Jesus. It hasn’t always been easy and there have been times when fear and worry have tried to overwhelm me, but in those moments I always think back to that day and that rainbow, and I am still.

On May 20th, 2013, I was at home with Cindy and our girls. It was one of “those days” in Oklahoma, and the forecasters had warned us that conditions were in place for a large tornado. As you probably well remember, they were right. We watched in horror and in real time as the monster tornado crossed I-44 near Newcastle and made its way through Moore. Almost immediately, my phone began ringing and buzzing with text messages. Celestial Acres, a training center in Moore that housed numerous racehorses, had taken a direct hit, and people needed help. I called a colleague, and she and I agreed to gather some veterinary supplies and try and get to the scene. I’ll never forget first seeing the devastation, as I audibly said to myself, “Oh no.” It was one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen, the details of which I will spare you, but we would later learn that over 200 horses and other animals were killed that day. Over the course of the next several hours, volunteers and veterinarians like myself worked to triage, treat, and evacuate surviving animals, and sadly euthanize those that had injuries too severe to live. We worked late into the night, and I went back nearly every day for weeks after as we continued to help with the recovery effort. Though it was one of the more traumatic moments of my life, my experiences with the Moore (and 10 days later, El Reno) tornadoes led me and several volunteers to found a nonprofit, the Oklahoma Large Animal First Responders, that seeks to assist Oklahomans and their animals in times of disasters. We have worked hard to grow our team and are now a part of the State Animal Response Team.

I remember a few days after the tornado talking with a friend about what I’d seen. He remarked that Moore, Oklahoma must be a real den of sin because “God keeps sending tornadoes there to punish them.” That hit me really hard, because so many of the people I met during the recovery were so wonderful and so full of love and compassion for their neighbors. I responded that I didn’t believe that for a second. I don’t believe in a God who would do that to people and animals on purpose. But I did see Jesus there. He was there the whole time. He was holding my hand as a police officer directed me to one more injured horse. He was strengthening me as the fatigue set in but the work had to continue. He led me back there knowing that more horses were hurt and needed our help. He was there in the hearts of the rescue workers and the neighbors who pulled one another out of the rubble. He was there in the hearts of the volunteers who carried the Oklahoma Standard. He was there to strengthen, to lift up, and to comfort those like myself who couldn’t possibly have made it through those times without His hand.

December of 2015 found our family doing well. Lily was doing an amazing job taking care of herself and she and her sister were growing into wonderful young ladies, both enjoying school and looking forward to the Christmas holiday. Earlier that fall Cindy had felt a lump in one of her breasts, but given her young age and good health and the lack of family history, we didn’t worry too much because she had a regularly scheduled doctor appointment. The mammogram didn’t show anything, but to make sure they performed an ultrasound, which yielded some abnormal findings. A biopsy was scheduled and a few days later she and I met with a nurse in a small corner office. I’ll never forget the nurse’s face when she said softly, “I’m sorry to tell you, it’s cancer.”

My head started swirling as I looked over at Cindy, not at all surprised to see that clenched jaw and that steely resolve I’ve come to know and respect, and maybe even fear a little. We went over the next steps with the nurse and left together. I asked Cindy what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go, and she said without hesitation, “Please call Father Mark.” It was getting late in the evening so I was surprised to learn that he was still here at St. Mary’s. He told us to come to the church right away. Driving there I again felt that worry I’d felt the day of Lily’s diagnosis, and I wondered where I would find the strength to be there for Cindy and the girls the way I’d need to be. Father Mark met us at the door and led us into the sanctuary, where he anointed Cindy with oil and prayed over her in that most ancient and sacred way. Once again, a peace washed over me that could only come from Jesus. I knew He was there yet again.

The road ahead was difficult for our family, especially for Cindy. She had surgery just before Christmas, and of course Father Mark came to the hospital and stayed with us the whole time until she was back in her room, a gift that meant more than he could ever know. Once she’d recovered, she began the first of 6 rounds of chemotherapy, which happened to begin right when my busy season at work started too. I wondered, and doubted, how I could possibly balance the demands of my often stressful job with the added duties of picking up the slack around the house. Cindy was amazing, as were my parents who came from Texas to help, and of course Lily and Olivia and our school and church families. We all rallied around each other and made it through yet another hard time. I remember that spring a friend asked me how I was doing, and how I could possibly be handling all that life seemed to be throwing at us. He remarked that I was still coming to work with a positive attitude and doing my job well. I smiled and looked at him with a simple answer: Jesus. Jesus carried me then, just as He carries me now, no matter what.

Human existence is filled with unimaginable joy and sometimes what feels like unbearable pain. At some point, we will all face hardship and challenge. We will get sick. We will experience tragedy. We will lose those we love most. It’s inevitable and unavoidable. But I don’t believe for a second that it is because God wants that for us or punishes us or includes our misery as part of His master plan. While I do believe that our stories are written long before we know them, I don’t believe God gave Lily diabetes or sent that tornado to Moore or caused Cindy’s cancer. Sometimes t-cells attack the pancreas. Sometimes hot and cold air mix in just the wrong place and time. Sometimes a tumor suppressor gene gets turned off or an oncogene gets turned on. But in each of those moments, if we can just find a way to still our minds and look to Heaven, we will find Jesus. He is there. He is always there, even, and maybe especially, when we don’t look for Him. He is there to share our joys, and He is there to lift us up in our sorrows when we think there’s no way we can go on. He can’t, and won’t, spare us from the slings and arrows inherent in the human experience, but He is there with us every step of the way, from our baptism to our final journey from this earth.

Thank you for the opportunity to share my story today. As my faith journey continues, I’m so grateful to Father Mark and Deacon Nancy and our St. Mary’s family, and I’m so grateful to get to grow in my relationship with Jesus. May God bless and keep you always. Amen.