I grew up in a rambling, pre-1860s farmhouse in rural southwestern Michigan. We had a “Michigan basement”,” “– unfinished dirt floors, walls made of fieldstone and rocks, crudely cemented together, exposed floorboards and joists from the ground floor providing a ceiling. A rickety wooden stairway ended in a small cemented landing. It was a haven for dust and cobwebs, and everything in the basement had a grimy film of dust mixed with the residue of an old oil-burning furnace. It was littered with “dead” things– a rusted-out bicycle frame from the 1940s; a long-forgotten set of rattan patio furniture with mildewed pads and broken wicker bits sticking out underneath; a broken rake; and, in one corner, what looked like the skeleton of a small rodent. There was an old cabinet, formerly with two doors, now standing with one door hanging askew, and the other one missing all but half a hinge piece. Inside were old Mason jars, rimmed with lime deposits, holding nails, screws, nuts and bolts, and other odds and ends, and more Mason jars holding home-canned tomatoes from a garden of unknown vintage. There was a single 40-watt incandescent light bulb screwed into an ancient ceramic socket and mounted on one of the overhead floorboards, which did little to diminish the general sense of gloom and decay. There were four small windows–but they had long ago succumbed to grime and dirt from inside and out. It was the stuff of childhood nightmares.
Last week, we had a tornado warning, and one of my friends from church spoke of taking her children to the basement to wait out the weather. It reminded me of my own mother, gathering my sister and I– sometimes pulling us from our beds– and taking us to shelter in the basement until a storm had passed. My father often worked the night shift, and so the job was left to Mom to herd us into the southwest corner of the basement, being sure to bring a blanket and a flashlight, and make sure we were wearing slippers or shoes. She also had an old portable AM/FM radio, so we could listen to the weather bulletins amidst the gloom and dust and damp of the basement.
And yet–
My memories of going to the basement during a storm are not memories that inspire terror or disgust. I never wanted to visit the basement any other time, but during a storm, it was our “safe” place. The winds and rain and hail might rage outside, but we were warm and snug (sometimes too warm!) in our little corner. And no matter how frightened my mom may have been, she always reassured us that we would be safe together in that place. And then, she would lead us in prayer. We prayed that Dad would be safe at work. We prayed for anyone who was in the path of the storm. We prayed that God would protect our house. We prayed for those who were on the road, and for those who would have to go out after the storm to fix electric lines or rescue others. And we thanked God for our basement!
Sometimes, God uses grubby basements to be our “safe” place. What otherwise may seem like a scary situation can become a cause for praise and celebration when we remember that God is with us!
I think of the prophet Jeremiah, who was arrested and thrown into a cistern–a place far worse than our basement– but God caused him to be rescued (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jeremiah%2038&version=NIV). He went from the mud-filled cistern to the palace of the King! And even though Jeremiah faced many other trials and griefs, Jeremiah was able to write: “
I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. 20 I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. 21 Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
22 Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 24 I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” (Lamentations 3:19-24 NIV)
And I think of Paul and Silas in prison in Philippi (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts%2016:16-34&version=ESV ). They sang and prayed after having been beaten and unfairly arrested. And they were trapped in the prison when an earthquake hit! But the end result was not only their vindication and freedom, but salvation for the Philippian jailor and his family!
There are seasons when we are forced to go to the basement–literally and figuratively. There are times when we must sit and wait in the dark and damp, uncertain of where the storm will hit or how long it will last. But often, in those basement moments, we find ourselves closer to God than when we climb mountains! God sits with us in the gloom. God has the power to turn our fear and uncertainty into praise and worship. And God will bring those memories of His comfort and strength back to us in other times of trouble.
We had a storm blow through the area the other night. We were under a tornado warning, and a couple of tornadoes did touch down several miles northeast of here. Long before the tornado warning was issued, the weather forecast predicted strong storms with the possibility of hail and/or tornadoes. But even without them, it was easy to sense that “something was in the air.” There was a quality of heaviness in the very air outside. And the sky was an unnatural greenish-gray color, even where it wasn’t dark with storm clouds.
In life, we often get warning signs of impending “storms”–physical symptoms that tell us there may be a problem like infection or disease that needs to be diagnosed; a tense atmosphere at work that suggests big changes may be coming; withdrawal of a family member that alerts us they may be struggling with emotional or mental issues. These “atmospheric disturbances” may be subtle at first. We may choose to ignore them, or dismiss their importance, until we find ourselves in the middle of the storm!
God calls on us to trust Him in any weather or circumstance. We can pray about even the slightest change in our “atmosphere,” whether at home, work, or even internally. And part of God’s wisdom is to send us warnings so that we can not only pray, but take proactive measures. We can reach out to family members, make an appointment with our doctor, be cautious about spending in the weeks and months ahead, seek out help and counseling, etc.
But sensing “atmospheric disturbances” is not all about seeking a remedy or avoiding struggles. Even with advanced warnings, some people last night were unable to avoid damage to their properties or loss of electricity from the storms. Several people were trapped in a shipping warehouse that was hit by one of the tornadoes. Thankfully, no one lost their life; still, it took hours to rescue them all, and some of them went home to no power. But what if– just what if– someone looking up at the sky, or feeling the heaviness in the air, prayed in that moment? What if they prayed for safety– not just for themselves, but for others who would be in the path of the storm? What if someone in that shipping warehouse made plans weeks ago for tornado drills and emergency plans to protect the workers, and made the call for everyone to shelter together?
There are hundreds of stories of dramatic rescues and miraculously saved lives after almost any weather emergency. But how many untold stories are lost in the simple prayers and small corrections that take place when God’s people respond to “atmospheric disturbances” with prayer and wisdom?
And when God chooses to allow storms to come into our lives, how many stories could be told of the presence of God to calm, not the storm, but our own fear of it? God knows, as we cannot, how big the storm will be, how long it will last, and what “damages” we will face. And His Grace is sufficient to give us everything we need to face them all. That doesn’t mean we won’t suffer– damage, loss, grief, frustration– these are part of our life in a fallen world. God won’t always remove these things from our life. But he will NEVER abandon us to face them alone.
Jesus Christ faced storms in His life. One of them came on the Sea of Gallilee, as Jesus was sleeping in the boat. (See Mark 4: 35-41) A storm came up, and the disciples were terrified. They woke Jesus up, and Jesus calmly rebuked the wind and the waves, and the storm stopped. We often focus on the fact of Jesus being able to control the wind and the waves. But one of the amazing things about this story is that Jesus was IN THE BOAT! His own life was in danger from the storm. The disciples were not alone. Jesus did not let them put out to sea and face the waves, while He was safe on shore.
And so, too, Jesus is WITH US in our storms. We don’t have to wake Him up, and He may not choose to give us a miracle, but He’s right there! He can be trusted, no matter what our circumstances, no matter what dangers or damages we have to face. He knows how the storm ends; He knows how our story ends; He knows when the sun will come out again, just like it did earlier this week, announcing that all will be well.
3 His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.4 Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. 5 For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge;6 and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness;7 and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love.8 For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
If you ask most people what they need, you will not hear the items listed in this passage of scripture. Most people view needs in very personal and concrete terms– food, water, shelter, safety, air…we need these to exist during our life on earth. God cares about our physical and most basic needs. But most people have other “needs” that they try to meet with what the Apostle Peter refers to here as “evil desires”. We “need” to feel loved– but we end up in unhealthy relationships, or fleeting relationships that don’t meet our need. We “need” to feel secure and worthwhile– but we end up feeling fearful and ashamed. We “need” to achieve; to find fulfillment and worth in our actions, words, relationships, and legacy–but, too often, our efforts lead us to compromise the very dreams and ambitions we started with, leading us to mediocrity or even disaster.
Jesus, through His divine power, has given us everything we need–everything! His death and resurrection provided the way for us to find true forgiveness and new life. We won’t find it in any of the things we think we “need”– a new job, or a new relationship; a new car or a new cause.
Over the years, I have returned to this passage many times. There is a lot to unpack in just a few verses. One of the things that always “gets” me about this passage is that I want to just leap from Faith to Love without the steps in-between. The world needs love– I need love– and I want to spread love, reflect love, and be known for loving others. God is Love, and showed His love through Christ– I believe in God and trust Christ. Voila!– He has given me everything I need, so I should be loving. But Peter writes what he knows very well. Following Jesus, learning from Him, growing to be more like Him–it begins with Faith, but it grows through discipleship. I “loved” people before I had Faith in Christ. I may “feel” love for others, but if my thoughts and actions are not being transformed by His Spirit; or if I continue to act out of habit or selfish impulse, my “love” will be corrupted and compromised by the world. It will be “my” love and not God’s love working through me. For that to happen, I need to add goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance and all the rest.
And adding these virtues requires that I humble myself to admit that I am not “good”, that I don’t already “know” everything…that I “need” to depend on God for any goodness, wisdom, discipline, strength to persevere, etc.
God is Good– He has already made provision for me to have everything I really need. He will guide me every step of the way; giving me all that I need when and how I need it most. I don’t “need” to worry or run myself ragged trying to earn God’s approval or favor. But I do “need” to trust that God will continue to work in me and through me for His Glory. And I need to come daily before His throne to listen and learn from Him, and reach out daily to go through the steps of turning Faith into Love in action.
Across from our shop, there is a mural that tells the story of the first “Orphan Train.” In October of 1854, 45 children– some orphaned, others abandoned–arrived in southwest Michigan from New York City. Conditions for such children in the large cities were dangerous. Floods of immigrants included children who had lost their parents on the voyage to America, or who had been separated from their families upon arrival. There were very few orphanages, and almost no resources dedicated to child welfare. Hunger, disease, crime, and exposure to the elements meant that many children never lived to maturity. Most of them lived on the streets; ignored, preyed upon, or simply forgotten. A group called the Children’s Aid Society, founded in 1853, had tried helping children– especially boys–but their limited resources were overwhelmed within the first year.
Section of the Orphan Train Mural, Dowagiac, Michigan (Ruth Andrews)
It was the idea of a man named Charles Loring Brace that large numbers of these children could escape the dangerous environs of the city and find safety and hope in the expanding “West.” With the help of the new railroads, groups of children could travel west, where kind-hearted families could adopt them. Food, shelter, education, fresh air, opportunity, and a loving family- this was the promise of the orphan train. For some children, it was the start of a wonderful new life. For some, it was trading a hard life in the city for a hard life on the frontier.
I can only imagine how frightening it must have been for the first train-load of orphans to travel here. Few people had ever traveled by train in those days. Some of the children had never traveled more than a few blocks from where they had been born– had never seen a farm or a forest. Part of their journey was on a steamboat. The journey would not have been comfortable, but it would have been exciting and even terrifying at times. They had no guarantee of finding homes or families who would be willing to take care of them– only the hope that someone might.
What does this have to do with prayer? Well, the obvious connection would be that everyone involved with this venture must have prayed diligently. All 45 children were placed with local families in that first journey. And the success of this first placement encouraged future endeavors. The “orphan trains” ran for 75 years, and carried nearly a quarter of a million children to new homes throughout the growing United States. And while not every child found a “happy ending” with their new family, most of them survived to create a new life as adults–an opportunity many other orphans had been denied.
But it struck me today, as I was looking at the mural and thinking about the fate of these children, that we are or were all in a similar situation. I am so thankful to be able to pray to my Loving Father– but there was a time when I was lost and without hope. There was a time when Sin had made me an orphan. I was alone and frightened and helpless to save myself. Like the orphans in first part of the mural, I was sick and sad, my best intentions were no more than tattered rags. Even as they line up to board the train, their faces show fear and pain.
It can be frightening to call out to God– frightening to leave the life we know, even when it is dangerous and unhealthy. God’s way takes us to uncomfortable and unfamiliar places–we can’t see the road ahead, and we don’t know what our “new” life will be like.
As I gaze once again at the mural, the last section shows an idealized version of the “new life” experienced by the riders of the “Orphan Train.” It shows a groups of children in a circle, holding hands and playing in the sunshine among grass and trees, while a bird flutters nearby. It is a heavenly place– the children’s clothes are clean, and they look healthy and happy. And while this is an ideal, rather than the reality for some of the children, it is a reminder of the contrast with the life they left behind.
Thanks be to God for His Grace that rescues us from the ravages of Sin. He offers us an escape to a new life– complete with a new family and a glorious hope of Heaven. He offers full adoption– guaranteed by the blood of His own Son– for those who will choose to leave their old life of Sin behind and travel as an orphan on His own “Orphan Train.”
4 I mean that the heir, as long as he is a child, is no different from a slave, though he is the owner of everything, 2 but he is under guardians and managers until the date set by his father. 3 In the same way we also, when we were children, were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world. 4 But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, 5 to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. 6 And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”
During the global COVID-19 pandemic, churches are being asked to suspend meetings– worship services, Bible studies, prayer meetings–all must be conducted via internet, or some other remote broadcasting option. This will be the first Easter in modern memory when millions of people will be unable to celebrate in church.
I miss going to church. I miss seeing and talking to my friends. I miss singing as a congregation, and praying together. I miss my weekly Bible study group, my Sunday School group, and I miss seeing the kids jumping and twirling and full of energy. I miss visiting the “house of the Lord.”
But there are three very important things this time is teaching me:
I miss “visiting” the house of the Lord, not “dwelling” there. There is a huge difference. As a member of the “body” of Christ (1 Corinthians 12), I live and move and have my being (Acts 17:28) IN Him. I do not “visit” the body– I AM part of the body– which brings me to..
The building is NOT the “Church.” Our church is still operating– just in different ways for the different circumstances. Members are making phone calls, sending e-mails, greeting cards, and creating web content to help share resources, provide encouragement and prayer support, and inspire others. We’ve been praying for those who are battling COVID-19— some are suffering from the disease; others are on the front lines– doctors, nurses, emergency workers, “essential” services workers in groceries, post offices, truckers, and more; some are suffering financially from lay-offs and losses. We are sharing specific names and needs as they arise–church members, neighbors, extended family, needs close to home or around the globe. Even if we are not meeting face-to-face in a particular building, we are still The Church, and I am “dwelling” there.
We have been asked to “shelter in place”– to stay in our dwellings. And that is precisely what God asks of us, as well. We need to dwell in the House of the Lord through this crisis. He is our shelter, our place of safety, and our rest. Instead of seeing this as a negative, or a set-back, we can use this time to celebrate the safety of our eternal dwelling place– safe in the arms of our Savior!
Finally, I WILL dwell in the House of the Lord– I already am a member of the body; I already dwell in unity with the Church; I already live in the presence of God and with His Spirit– someday I will dwell with Him face-to-face in the same kind of intimacy I am missing now with my fellow believers. What I am missing now should cause me to be joyful! This is temporary– what will be is eternal and will never be interrupted by disease, distance, or the imperfections of our current fallen world.
COVID-19 is the visitor– unwelcome, scary, dangerous, yes, but as a child of God, I dwell in the House of the Lord– and COVID-19 can’t change that for me or for anyone else who calls on the name of Jesus! Ever!
Seventeen years ago today, I was, like many people around the world, glued to a TV watching with horror as the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City were spewing fire, ash, paper, and even bodies before collapsing. I sat in shock as I watched footage of the second plane smashing into the south tower. People running away as rescue vehicles rushed toward the panic. And as the towers fell, the smoke rose, filled with the last breaths of those trapped inside, along with the collective breaths of their families, friends, and the world. A silent gray gasp– a frozen moment of silence in the midst of sirens and screams. Time stopped at least twice that day. Motions and emotions were suspended in those columns of smoke– love and memory, hopes and dreams– all drifted silently away from the open wound that was lower Manhattan.
And then, amazing things started to happen. Stories of heroism and miraculous rescues. The initial estimates of people killed ranged in the tens of thousands–all morning, they climbed higher– by Wednesday, they began to fall as more people were located. Others were rescued from the debris as thousands of workers poured in to help. Caravans and convoys of supplies– food, water, medical supplies, rescue workers and excavators– rolled, sailed, walked, or were ferried in. In the first years, more stories emerged. As horrific and tragic as the events of 9/11 were, they could have been even worse. The initial panic morphed into resolve. People who wouldn’t have spoken to their neighbors now worked side by side in shelters and clean-up efforts. People who shouldn’t have lived through it did, while others who shouldn’t have cared willingly shared their time, their resources, their skills, their homes, and even their lives to help others.
Ironically, the buildings were designed to withstand a hurricane. Today, the east coast of the U.S., including potentially New York City, is preparing for the arrival of a hurricane. The buildings of the World Trade Center were built with the hope that they would be strong enough to survive high winds and floods; able to provide emergency shelter and protection to thousands in the event of a natural disaster. They were leveled by an unnatural force of evil and hatred meant to destroy life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
There are no man-made towers that can protect against the force of evil in our world– mighty winds of change, forces of nature, powerful attacks, acts of war, and collapse can occur without warning. There is only one strong tower that can withstand the deadly forces of sin and hate and despair. God stands firm and unshakable, offering to save all who come within His embrace. He may not bring us through without wounds; He may even allow us to go through the valley of the shadow of death. He doesn’t promise perfect weather or days without struggles. He won’t remove us from the storm, but He invites us to take our shelter in Him. He won’t make you take shelter; he won’t make you evacuate your house built on the sand. He may calm the storm or stop the winds and waves. He may ask us to weather them in their full force. We may even lose this mortal life, but He will keep the soul that is stayed on Him. And He won’t leave us to face the storm alone.
Today, I pray for those who are remembering that horrible day in 2001, and those who are facing an uncertain 9/11 today. May each one feel God’s strength, shelter, and comfort in the midst of this life’s storms.
Pursuing Prayer 