Below is a story of God's faithfulness written by my friend, Leslie. Leslie is a pastor's wife of more than 30 years and works alongside her husband in a ministry that strengthens and encourages other ministry couples. She says this story is deeply personal, but not only hers to tell, so we have changed the name of her son to preserve his privacy.
From Leslie:
My story begins 32 years ago, September 1985 to be exact. I was seven months pregnant with my third child the morning I heard God’s voice. A visiting pastor gave an invitation for those needing prayer to step forward that Sunday. My prayer concerned our finances. We didn’t have health insurance and I wasn’t sure how we could pay the hospital bill when our baby arrived.
I stood at the back of the large group gathered at the alter. As I prayed, a man stood directly behind my right shoulder and firmly proclaimed these words, “Your son will be just fine.”
I was caught off guard. What a strange thing to say! I didn’t know if the baby I was carrying was a boy or girl, though I’d been hoping for a boy since we already had two girls. Also, I had been asking God to intervene in a financial way, I wasn’t worried about the health of the child. I opened my eyes and quickly turned to see who had spoken to me. No one stood there. I was at the back of the group and a little away from them. I saw no others walking around praying over the group. No one was making his way back to his seat. Could that man’s voice actually have been the voice of God? I was skeptical, but I didn’t dismiss the notion out of hand.
Later that day I shared my experience with my mother and my husband, then I tucked it away in my heart. Sure enough, two months later I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Somehow or other, the hospital bills got paid and I rarely ever thought about that Sunday morning in September.
Fast forward 14 years. My son was having problems in school. We’d moved away from the only home he’d know to a more urban area three hours north, and he’d gone from the warm cocoon of a small Christian school to the rather terrifying world of a large public middle school. He was angry and rebellious and had attempted to run away from home on one occasion. One night, as I was crying out to the Lord, I heard His still small voice whisper to my heart, “What did I tell you all of those years ago before Adam was born?”
I had to take a minute to think about it. Suddenly I remembered the man’s voice. “Your son will be just fine.” The peace of God filled my mind. Whatever troubles lay ahead, I knew my son would make it through middle school because God had a plan for him. He would be fine, though I still felt it was a strange choice of words.
The years passed and now I had an 19-year-old on my hands. This boy of mine never took the easy road. He’d decided that college was not for him, but hitch-hiking around the United States was. He left home with a backpack, but no cell phone. I had no way of knowing if my son was dead or alive. Again, during a time of fear and sadness, the Lord quickened my heart with the reminder, “Your son will be just fine.” And, he was. He came home from his adventure and announced that he needed more disciple and responsibility in his life. He was joining the Army. My mother’s heart sunk. Our nation was at war in Iraq and my only son was signing up to go. This time I reminded God of His words. “You said my son would be just fine, I’m counting on you to keep your word!” God’s promise 20 years earlier kept me going. It was my lifeline.
My son, Adam, eventually came home after serving four years in the Infantry, 15 months of which were spent in active combat. My happy, care-free, slightly irresponsible, goofy boy was now a man; battle hardened and battle scarred. He experienced events I hope to never see. He lived through the pain of his best friend’s death and the agonizing reality of taking the life of another human being. His eyes were that of an old man. His thoughts were filled with turmoil, his dreams were filled with terrors.
Over the course of the next several years I watched my son shrink. I watched as PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) took its toll on his mind and his body. I watched as he coped with his pain by self-medicating with alcohol and with the prescription drugs that the VA handed out like candy. I prayed. I held on to God’s promise that he would be “just fine”. I reminded God on a regular basis of His words to me. The waiting and watching was hard. I clung to that promise, I believed, I trusted.
Slowly things began to change. Slowly healing came. Slowly life came back into my son’s eyes and I heard him laugh again. A big, gangly black lab/shepherd puppy played a large part of the story. Bear, became Adam’s best friend. Bear, became his service dog. Bear, with his unconditional love, his joie de vivre, and his silly antics helped pull my son away from the edge and back to life. A move to another part of the country, a “chance” meeting with his lost buddy’s cousin, and many other God-directed circumstances brought about greater healing. “Just fine” became much more. He was healing. He was on his way!
Then, a desperate phone call. “Bear is sick, please pray!” Another, “Bear is dying, there’s nothing the vet can do.” Finally, the stark text, “Bear is dead.”
I cried. I railed at heaven. I didn’t understand. I was angry. However, even through the pain I heard God speak to my heart. “Your son will be just fine.” I argued with God. I questioned Him. Yet, there had always been that thread weaving in and out of my son’s life like a beautiful gold cord in a gray tapestry. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I stood firm and held on. I believed God. I took him at His word. I trusted Him. What else could I do?
Several years have passed since that awful night. Life has taken on a pattern of normalcy. There is a new dog. There is a precious wife. There is a new job, new hobbies, new passions. He really is “fine”.
I wish that I could say that all is well in my son’s world. I wish I could say that he loves God with all of his heart and is walking out his life’s purpose with strong faith. It isn’t. He isn’t. He has questions. He has compartmentalized certain areas of his life in order to survive. He is wounded still, deep down at his very core. But, he is a survivor. He is still walking his way out of the darkness.
I don’t know my son’s future. I don’t know how God is going to take all of his broken pieces and craft something beautiful. I don’t know how his story is going to encourage others. But I do know that God has a plan. He has always had a plan. He was kind enough to share part of that with me while my son was still safely tucked away under my heart. He knew I would need that encouragement, that lifeline, that beautiful gold cord that is stronger than all of my doubts and fears.
Now, I believe my Father has changed the words around a bit. Today He tells my heart, “Your son will be more than ‘just fine’”. I know with every fiber of my being that this too is true. I have peace in my heart that “He who began a good work in Adam will be faithful to complete it.” Philippians 1:6
Did you catch that? I have peace, because God’s faithfulness is a lifeline to those in need."
