A Little Story

I want to share a story with you. I have shared this story several times at church as a sermon illustration and it is very meaningful to me.

Growing up in a fundamentalist Baptist church that was very missionary oriented I heard many stories about God’s judgment on those who are reluctant to evangelize, surrender to preach or respond to the call of the mission field. Stories were told of loved ones and family members who became sick or were tragically injured or killed in auto accidents. These stories were told to motivate us to surrender or face tragic consequences.

It was made very clear that if something tragic happened it was caused by disobedience or faithlessness. Time does not permit mentioning the numerous sermons and conversations that made very clear to me that if there is any suffering in our life we caused it. We caused it by our sin, our weak faith or our reluctance to commit ourselves. Even the altar call to rededicate our lives to the Lord contained such warnings. We had to go forward during an altar call because there could be grave and dire consequences to our lives or the lives of our loved ones.

When at the age of 13 my mother informed me of my father’s lung cancer (my father was 64 years old at the time so he had me very late in life) my first thought was, “What did I do to cause this?” I must have done something very wrong for this to have happened. I blamed myself and wracked my brain as to what I could have done to cause God to make my dad sick. And if so, what could I do to convince God to heal my dad? There were people in my life that tried to comfort me and told me it wasn’t my fault (my Dad was a lifetime smoker so lung cancer was always a possibility but I wasn’t mature enough to understand), but I still blamed myself. All I could remember were those stories of how disobedience caused all suffering in our life.

My father passed away in 1969 when I turned 14. I went on with my life but I still thought that I must have done something wrong for this to have happened. A dark cloud seemed to park itself over my head: no matter how good I was or how active in church the mark of darkness was upon me. Suffering had happened in my life and I caused it. Life was dark and tragic and destined for calamity no matter what I did.

We moved to the town I was born in, Arkansas City, shortly after my father’s death. I continued to faithfully attend church and even became a church song leader at the age of 14 but I still had doubts and questions about suffering. The teaching I had received had cemented itself into my brain and even though the church I was attending was not as fundamentalist it did not speak much about suffering. I read Scripture and prayed, asking God to make me better and change me but I still did not understand what had happened. There was no theological teaching or spiritual construct that helped me with the notion that I was the cause of all my suffering. To be fair, I don’t think my mom or my church had any notion of what was going on in my head. Teenagers don’t open up and share what they’re thinking, usually (and probably a good thing in most cases). But I simply did not have an answer to my questions. Why did my dad die? Did I cause him to suffer? What could I do now to make the pain go away? Surely if I just went forward at enough youth meetings and church camps God would miraculously spare me from my faltering, weak faith.

In the town of Arkansas City on West Kansas Ave there was an old cinder block building, very non-descript, where an old couple opened up a Christian bookstore. It wasn’t there but for a couple of years but in hearing the music of the Gaither’s and gospel quartets, all new to me in the 1970’s, I searched out their sheet music. I found great comfort and peace in listening to and singing gospel music. It was one of the great joys of my teenage years. I searched out the music and when I could find it at this little bookstore I would put together my quarters and dimes (one song cost a little more than a dollar then) and buy it. I would get the church pianist to play it for me and would sing it at church.

While listening to a program called “The Elmer Childress Show” which came on from a Wichita, KS station every noon hour (it would come on for 15 minutes and Elmer and his family would sing gospel music) I heard them sing a song that I thought sounded good and the message seemed so different from everything I had ever been taught about suffering. I then heard the song on “The Gospel Singing Jubilee” (I think that’s what it was called) which came out of Oklahoma City on Sunday mornings. My mother would put this program on every Sunday morning while we were getting ready for church and I grew to love the southern gospel quartets and family groups. The song intrigued me even more  so I set out to find this song. One day when perusing the sheet music at the little Christian bookstore I found it. The song was “Through It All” by Andre Crouch.

“I’ve had many tears and sorrows; I’ve had questions ‘bout tomorrow”

“There’ve been times I didn’t know right from wrong”

“But in every situation God gave me blessed consolation that my trials come to only made me strong”

“Through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to trust in Jesus, I’ve learned to trust in God”

“Through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to depend upon His Word”

Could this be? Could it be true that I didn’t cause my dad’s suffering and death but part of why it happened was just to make me strong? Could trials be something that make us stronger and test us and not just be a punishment? Could I suffer and still trust God without blaming myself? As I meditated on the song I realized that what I had been taught was wrong. Now to be sure, we can cause our own suffering. Many of the bad things that have happened to us are a result of our own personal sin. I was well aware of this and made plenty of mistakes as a young man (and an old man) that were my own fault. But this does not explain all suffering and it certainly didn’t explain my father’s death, even though I had been convinced it was my fault. But when I heard that song I was comforted and at peace. A gospel song was responsible for one of the seminal events of my life. It made sense of my father’s death and gave me a new resolve to serve God faithfully, go to Bible College, and become a preacher.

There have been many ups and downs in my life, but one thing I do know: suffering makes sense. We may be at fault for our suffering, or it may be random because of the evil in this world, or it may come from the weakness of our bodies, but regardless, God will see us through it all. Trials come to only make us strong so we can trust in God and His Word and He will give us blessed consolation.

This song comforts me. It tells me of the power of gospel music. There is no other music in the world that has this kind of power. Rock music only wishes it could bring the inspiration, influence and power that gospel music brings. I have been empowered by gospel music in my life and I will never forget how a great gospel song forever changed my life and helped a young Christian boy grow up to follow Christ his entire adult life.