Family and the God of the Universe

Wow, this has been a week. All week I have been thinking about family. This week John traveled to Mapourdit to help facilitate a peace meeting there. As he was on the road driving there, he texted me to say that he had heard rumors that the cell service wasn’t so hot in Mapourdit. I texted a panicky response back that didn't go through and that was the last time I talked to him all week.

Now for those of you imagining that I handled this like a good godly wife by saying, “Ah well, I trust John and I trust God. I will just pass the time by baking casseroles for us to share when he returns,” you can just get rid of that image right now. Nope, I passed the time by lying face down on my floor crying out to the Lord to protect my husband like the last kid left at day care. My brand of trusting God involves cleaning a lot more snot off of tile than I might otherwise prefer.

I also spent this week pouring my heart out to God about a beautiful child John and I love, who we will call Baby M. Baby M has spent most of his short life as an orphan and while I won’t go too deeply into his story here, since, well, it’s not my story and he is not my child, suffice to say that Baby M needs a family and John and I are praying so hard for God to bring him one.

Then late this week, I learned that my Grandma was in the ICU because her kidneys and heart were failing. All nine of her children had flown to Arizona to be with her, in what we thought might be her final hours. I tell you what, I have never felt more alone than trying to understand my mother describe my poor Grandma’s condition over a bad Skype connection, while the only other person on this continent who even knows my Grandma’s name was entirely unreachable. More snot on tile.

And then my wonderful husband driving on his way back to Juba finally enters cell phone territory, just in time to tell me that he’s been in a car accident and the car rolled and it’s probably totaled, but don’t worry, he’s okay.

And because God is like that, here is the Scripture He asked me to memorize at the beginning of this week, before I knew any of this was going to happen:

Psalm 121

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
   where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the LORD,
   the Maker of heaven and earth. 

 3 He will not let your foot slip—
   he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
   will neither slumber nor sleep. 

 5 The LORD watches over you—
   the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
   nor the moon by night. 

 7 The LORD will keep you from all harm—
   he will watch over your life;
8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going
   both now and forevermore.

What a beautiful picture of protection from the Maker of heaven and earth! As I sit here this morning, thanking him that my Grandma is out of the ICU and that my husband is okay and that I know an answer is coming for Baby M, I’m left marveling that He is the Maker of my Grandma’s brilliant doctors and the angels who sat with her and that sacred seat belt that didn’t give out and that beautiful car window that didn’t shatter and Baby M’s perfect laugh and the family that is coming for him and this tile I have my face pressed against… 

For all my worrying and crying, I cannot add even one day to anyone's life, even the people I love most. My God is the One who keeps my husband safe in this crazy country. He is the One who knew Baby M's precious face before it had even been formed in his mother's womb. And He is the One who will welcome my Grandma home when that sad, but beautiful day does come. 

Praise God! He is the Maker of heaven and earth and my family.

-Stephanie