The Joy Of The Lord Is Your Strength
I had an awesome experience today. I knew 5 minutes into it that I would be blogging it as soon as I got home.
We bought a new car today at a dealership in Shingle Springs. I met with a sale manager I used to work with 10 years ago at my very first car sales job. His name is Aaron.
I hadn’t seen him since then. He looked older, but still friendly and funny and warm.
I remember him being a womanizer, boozer, and a party animal.
The story he told floored me.
We talked about cars, the old days, people we knew, etc, for the first hour or so. Then he started talking about his family.
He just married a wonderful blonde woman named Amber. When he spoke about her, I could see his eyes light up and I could see the love in his eyes.
They have a 12 month old healthy baby girl named Alise. The light of his life, the reason he doesn’t drink anymore, the reason he’s up at dawn ‘taking care of business.’
Alise had a twin, Alexis, who died at 4 months.
Aaron was in the NICU every day for 4 months. Two hours before work, and then all night until closing. The baby needed several surgeries to correct stomach and lung problems.
She breathed her last breath in his arms 4 days before last Christmas.
He said the grief almost killed him, but that he believed that God had him go through it because he could handle it.
I think it was because of the following testimony, something he hadn’t really considered.
He said that in the NICU, you make friends with the other parents with children there. He said he saw families with triplets who, over a three week period, had all three children die. Funerals, last rites, the whole shooting match. You are sharing a common experience, a common grief, that bonds people.
(I imagine that being on the mission field together is some pale shadow of a comparison.)
One couple sticks out in his mind. They were young -- and strong Christians. He remembered being surprised that kids of their generation were so into their faith. Their baby was in the NICU, but he never really knew why until the day that they were leaving the hospital.
He remembers them being happy, full of life, and loving toward everyone. Every day they came to him and with love and concern asked about his little one. They brought cheer to everyone in the NICU (a normally somber place) -- a smile, a laugh, a hug.
On one particularly hard day – bad news from the doctor – he mentioned to his wife how hard it all was.
“This sucks. Why did this happen to me? I know I did some bad things in my life, but, man, this is horrible. Look at all this bad news everywhere!”
His wife nodded in agreement. “Yeah, like them,” motioning to the happy couple.
“What? They are so happy! What happened?”
“They just found out that the baby has Down’s Syndrome. They’ve known all along that the baby is androgynous (no discernable male or female sexual organs) and that Down’s Syndrome was likely.” By the look on his face she added, “You didn’t know that?”
He was shocked. Could he have been so blind? Could he have been so naïve? He’d seen them for weeks, and they acted like there was nothing wrong in the world, like joy was a scent in the air to be breathed and enjoyed and savored. They were more openly concerned about everyone else rather than themselves.
All along their child, their first born, was among the sickest and the most genetically troubled of the group in the NICU.
He thought to himself, “What are MY problems? Why am I so down when they can be so happy? What am I missing?” It convicted him to his core.
He told me this, in a matter of fact tone – conversationally.
I almost cried. I said to him, “It says in the Bible that ‘the joy of the Lord is your strength.’ This is a perfect example of that. That’s one of the most powerful testimonies I have ever heard. I just heard the story, and I wasn’t there for all the details, but I’m sure that God wanted you to learn that through that experience. The whole world should hear that story.”
The lesson I took is this: You think you got problems? 99.9% of us AIN’T got problems. We have minor inconveniences. We have stubbed toes and hangnails, while other people have cancer and starvation.
And they are laughing and smiling.
The joy of the Lord is their strength.
Love everyone!
Dale
We bought a new car today at a dealership in Shingle Springs. I met with a sale manager I used to work with 10 years ago at my very first car sales job. His name is Aaron.
I hadn’t seen him since then. He looked older, but still friendly and funny and warm.
I remember him being a womanizer, boozer, and a party animal.
The story he told floored me.
We talked about cars, the old days, people we knew, etc, for the first hour or so. Then he started talking about his family.
He just married a wonderful blonde woman named Amber. When he spoke about her, I could see his eyes light up and I could see the love in his eyes.
They have a 12 month old healthy baby girl named Alise. The light of his life, the reason he doesn’t drink anymore, the reason he’s up at dawn ‘taking care of business.’
Alise had a twin, Alexis, who died at 4 months.
Aaron was in the NICU every day for 4 months. Two hours before work, and then all night until closing. The baby needed several surgeries to correct stomach and lung problems.
She breathed her last breath in his arms 4 days before last Christmas.
He said the grief almost killed him, but that he believed that God had him go through it because he could handle it.
I think it was because of the following testimony, something he hadn’t really considered.
He said that in the NICU, you make friends with the other parents with children there. He said he saw families with triplets who, over a three week period, had all three children die. Funerals, last rites, the whole shooting match. You are sharing a common experience, a common grief, that bonds people.
(I imagine that being on the mission field together is some pale shadow of a comparison.)
One couple sticks out in his mind. They were young -- and strong Christians. He remembered being surprised that kids of their generation were so into their faith. Their baby was in the NICU, but he never really knew why until the day that they were leaving the hospital.
He remembers them being happy, full of life, and loving toward everyone. Every day they came to him and with love and concern asked about his little one. They brought cheer to everyone in the NICU (a normally somber place) -- a smile, a laugh, a hug.
On one particularly hard day – bad news from the doctor – he mentioned to his wife how hard it all was.
“This sucks. Why did this happen to me? I know I did some bad things in my life, but, man, this is horrible. Look at all this bad news everywhere!”
His wife nodded in agreement. “Yeah, like them,” motioning to the happy couple.
“What? They are so happy! What happened?”
“They just found out that the baby has Down’s Syndrome. They’ve known all along that the baby is androgynous (no discernable male or female sexual organs) and that Down’s Syndrome was likely.” By the look on his face she added, “You didn’t know that?”
He was shocked. Could he have been so blind? Could he have been so naïve? He’d seen them for weeks, and they acted like there was nothing wrong in the world, like joy was a scent in the air to be breathed and enjoyed and savored. They were more openly concerned about everyone else rather than themselves.
All along their child, their first born, was among the sickest and the most genetically troubled of the group in the NICU.
He thought to himself, “What are MY problems? Why am I so down when they can be so happy? What am I missing?” It convicted him to his core.
He told me this, in a matter of fact tone – conversationally.
I almost cried. I said to him, “It says in the Bible that ‘the joy of the Lord is your strength.’ This is a perfect example of that. That’s one of the most powerful testimonies I have ever heard. I just heard the story, and I wasn’t there for all the details, but I’m sure that God wanted you to learn that through that experience. The whole world should hear that story.”
The lesson I took is this: You think you got problems? 99.9% of us AIN’T got problems. We have minor inconveniences. We have stubbed toes and hangnails, while other people have cancer and starvation.
And they are laughing and smiling.
The joy of the Lord is their strength.
Love everyone!
Dale
posted by Wealthedge at 11:51 PM
4 comments
