7 Lessons From Heaven Page 14

  After my NDE, I found it easier to say yes to God’s presence, to His love, and to His blessings. I’m sure by now you can see why. I had discovered for myself that with God at the center, life could be a great joy-filled adventure. I could live now, fully present in this moment, but also have a confidence that no matter what each moment brought to me, a joyful future awaited. Still, as I’ve said, acting on that confidence took courage. To trust God’s plan and say “yes” to wherever it would lead me meant that I would also be saying yes to the challenges coming my way, including the death of my beautiful son and the daunting prospect of sharing my experiences with others.

  But let’s be honest about the human factor in all this. Even when we sense God’s leading, and notice signs of confirmation, we can still continue to resist. Truth is, most of us are born geniuses at finding the many reasons to discount divine leading. You know what I mean: We say we don’t have the time. We’re sure we don’t have enough experience, skill, or aptitude. We can easily point out a better candidate. Maybe we just don’t have the energy.

  But God does not necessarily call the qualified—He qualifies the called. (If you don’t believe me, take another look at how key biblical figures felt when they sensed God’s call—for example, Moses, Gideon, David, Jeremiah, and most of Jesus’s disciples.)

  I love the practical wisdom in a story from the Dutch missionary Andrew van der Bijl, later known as just Brother Andrew, who was questioning the importance for him of learning how to drive. One day, he received a visit from a man named Karl de Graaf, who was part of a prayer group in which people often spent hours of time in silent prayer. In his book God’s Smuggler, Brother Andrew relates their conversation:1

  I went out to the front stoop, and there was Karl de Graaf. “Hello!” I said, surprised.

  He asked, “Do you know how to drive?”

  “Drive?”

  “An automobile.”

  I said, bewildered, “No, I don’t.”

  Mr. de Graaf said, “Last night in our prayers, we had a word from the Lord about you. It’s important for you to be able to drive.”

  “Whatever on earth for?” I said. “I’ll never own a car, that’s for sure.”

  “Andrew,” Mr. de Graaf spoke patiently, as to a slow-witted student, “I’m not arguing for the logic of the case. I’m just passing on the message.”

  Despite his initial hesitation, Brother Andrew discerned that this was something God was calling him to do, so he learned to drive. Shortly after he received his driving license, a new opportunity presented itself—one that eventually led to Brother Andrew’s delivering bibles and bringing the gospel to thousands of people in communist countries during the height of the Cold War.

  Our challenge is always to trust God’s path, even when it is impossible to see around the next corner. Brother Andrew later wrote, “That’s the excitement in obedience, finding out later what God had in mind.”

  WHAT HOLDS US BACK FROM SAYING YES?

  In the years since my kayaking accident, I have often considered why it is so difficult for most of us to say yes to God. When life is comfortable and satisfying, it is more difficult to say yes. But I’ve concluded that so much of our hesitation is rooted in fear—fear of losing control, fear of accountability, and most significantly, fear that God will change our life. We worry that God’s plan may not be what we want, and we fear that we may not want to go where He leads. We fear failure, putting ourselves “out there,” and we fear what others may think. It’s an endless list.

  Sometimes we just try to put our head in the sand, thinking that if we don’t acknowledge God’s calling to us, we won’t feel obligated to respond. And our best future often lies in a direction we strongly reject—at least at first. You know the story of Jonah—when he got clarity on God’s plan for him, he set out immediately in the opposite direction.

  Personally, I had a terrific life before my kayaking accident. I had a great job, a wonderful husband, four healthy children, and lived in a beautiful place. I was very happy with my life and had no “issues.” When I went to Chile, the idea of change would not have been particularly well received by me. I certainly wasn’t looking for a new life challenge—having an NDE, then writing about it, then going public to the world as a faithful witness of what I had seen and learned.

  Most of us want to know how we, or our life, will be changed by God’s plan before we agree to say yes. We want to assess the value of God’s plan, rather than trusting his leading. And it’s just not in our nature to believe that God’s very best plan for our lives might be uncomfortable, that we might be put in situations where we’re likely to fail.

  No wonder so many of us wait until we hit rock bottom and feel broken to “find God” and say yes to the changes. It is during these times of personal strife that we see our real need most clearly, and finally opt for change. Whether we are at the bottom or the top, it always requires courage to follow where God leads—one reason I’m so grateful that God promises to help and strengthen us along the way (Isaiah 41:10).

  Fear can be paralyzing, preventing us from exploring new activities, entering new relationships, and from realizing our potential. We all tend to focus on our weaknesses rather than our strengths, so we may not think we have the ability or the skills necessary for what might be asked of us. God rarely seems to ask us to do something we feel comfortable with. As a result, we may let our past failures define our vision of the future.

  Or we forget that God delights in using ordinary people to accomplish great things. Joseph was a slave when he interpreted dreams, through which he saved Egypt from famine. Esther was a slave before she saved her people from massacre, Gideon was a farmer, and Peter was a fisherman.

  Our feelings of being too ordinary to be used by God often coexist with our desire to be called to greatness. We assume God’s plan for us should be spectacular. We want to be like Nelson Mandela, Billy Graham, Mother Teresa, or other great leaders. Few people want to be called to cleaning dishes at a local soup kitchen, driving the carpool, or clearing trash from a homeless camp. We tend to look at the end result rather than focusing on our efforts and letting God work through them. We imagine the joy of standing on top of a mountain rather than considering the work of climbing it. We forget that, as a Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu said many centuries ago, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

  I doubt Billy Graham, who created one of the largest Christian ministries in history, was thinking about his impact on humanity when, attracted by the controversy, he chose to attend a revival meeting while in high school. And I doubt Mother Teresa was aware of impoverished Indians when she was a schoolgirl in Albania. For that matter, I doubt that Jorge Bergoglio dreamed of becoming the 266th pope (Pope Francis) of the Roman Catholic Church when, as a young man, he was working as a bouncer in Buenos Aires, or when he was sweeping floors as a janitor.

  Rather, each of these leaders chose to respond to God’s calling by putting one foot in front of the other as God led them from one opportunity to the next. In doing so, they walked arduous paths of service on their way to a mountaintop. Most of us will never be called to this sort of greatness, and we may never summit the mountain, but we are continually called to take the first step. Without knowing where it will lead or why, we are invited to follow the path that has been laid for us, using fully the gifts we have been given.

  Sometimes we may want different gifts or try to hide the ones we have, but we each have something unique to offer. Just as each one of the billions of people on this earth has a unique fingerprint and genetic code, we each have a unique combination of talents and gifts that can be used for God’s glory. We need not fear those who can hurt our bodies but not our souls, and we can totally ignore the disabling lies told by the world around us. The one who is in us is always greater than he who is in the world (1 John 4:4). As we begin to walk where God is leading us, we often discover preciously hidden talents and abilities. We can be encouraged by remembering t
he words of writer and theologian Henry van Dyke: “Use what talents you possess: The woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.”

  STEPPING OUT IN FAITH

  When listening with an open heart fails to make my path clear, I step out in faith and get to work. That’s because waiting on God is not the same thing as passively doing nothing. As said by folklorist Doug Boyd, “If I have learned one thing in this life, it is that God will not tie my shoes without me.” Rarely are we offered a sought-after job without turning in an application and expressing interest. It is impossible to see a beautiful sunset without opening your eyes. If my friends had not provided the hands to physically perform CPR, I would not have returned to life.

  I truly believe it is possible for each of us to become yes people, trusting God’s promises of being present, of having a plan for our life that is one of hope, and His promise of guidance and encouragement throughout our journey.

  It’s worth noting that God’s plan is not always one of movement, change, or challenge. Sometimes we are led to green pastures and cool waters, where we can refresh our souls (Psalm 23:2). Sometimes we just need to stay fully engaged in our present circumstances. During these quiet times, we can still provide a window through which God’s light can shine into the world. Our life, and our example to others, can glorify God even when we are bored at work, when we are doing chores, when we are caring for friends and family, and even when we think no one is noticing.

  A few years ago I received multiple e-mails from a man who was bitter that his mother was slowly dying. He felt she had been such a godly woman that she did not deserve to die this way. He told me stories of the agony she was in and how he spent every day gently caring for her. He thought the process pointless and was relieved when, after many months of suffering, she finally returned to God. Without his being aware of it, however, his constant gentle care for his mother had been observed by a member of the housekeeping staff. That staff member’s own mother was also dying, but was frightened and alone, as the two had become estranged. As a direct result of watching this man serve his mother, the housekeeper lovingly reconciled with her mother and provided tender care during her last days.

  Seeking God’s direction and saying yes to God’s plan brings with it a sparkling gift from heaven—a joy-filled life here on Planet Earth. I know this from my own experience, and I promise that the same rare gift is waiting for you, too. The confidence you will experience as you fully trust God to lead you and make your path straight will almost miraculously remake your emotional life. Anxiety and worry will get pushed aside. You will be set free in new ways to express your God-created talents and passions.

  Like me, you will discover the eternal worth of our own story.

  Chapter 11

  BEAUTY BLOSSOMS FROM ALL THINGS

  “Death…is no more than passing from one room into another. But there’s a difference for me, you know.

  Because in that other room I shall be able to see.”

  —HELEN KELLER

  One Halloween, I took my children to a corn maze in a farmer’s field in Idaho. A corn maze, as you probably know, consists of walking paths cut through a field of corn. Corn maze designs, like labyrinths, can be both artful and complex. You walk in at the entrance of the puzzle and see how long it takes you to find your way back out again. Of course, getting lost is all part of the thrill.

  My family, brimming as usual with confidence and bravado, couldn’t wait to tackle the challenge. We marched into that field of corn sure we’d come out the other side in record time. Our plan was simple—follow each path until we reached a dead end, then retrace our steps and try again, taking what we’d learned with us. Farther and farther in we walked.

  At first it was fun. But after an hour had passed, and we still hadn’t found our way out, I noticed a shift in the mood. By then we had lost all sense of pattern or direction. Hunger, cold, and fear began to creep in. Was this a mean Halloween trick, my kids wanted to know? What if there was no way out? Things weren’t turning out the way we had hoped.

  No matter how many paths we tried, we couldn’t find one that didn’t arrive at a dead end. That is, until an employee of the maze offered to help. He climbed to the top of a tall lookout in the middle of the field so he could see the whole pattern. Then he shouted directions. “Walk until you get to the next left!” he yelled. “Okay, now go about twenty feet and you’ll notice…”

  Gradually, relying on his perspective and guidance, we found our way out.

  You might feel lost in a maze right now—and not at all in a family adventure kind of way. You started out with high hopes. But from where you are now, you see confusion, pain, loss, and disappointment in every direction. We all face difficulties in our lives, but I’m talking about the kind of heartbreaks that utterly crush us. When I lost my beautiful son Willie in a senseless accident, it felt like the light had gone out of the world. For a very long time, I didn’t honestly feel that even the loving Jesus I’d met in heaven could bring anything good from such a pointless tragedy.

  Maybe you can relate. If so, you know it’s in times like these that we can slide into a crisis of faith. “Where are you God?” we cry. “How could you let this happen?”

  In this chapter we tackle one of the most daunting questions any person of faith must confront: If God is all-good, all-knowing, and all-powerful, why does he allow evil in the world? Theologians even have a fancy name for it—theodicy. But most of us experience the question in deeply personal ways.

  As I experienced heaven, I learned that within the fullness of God’s plan, beauty really does blossom from all things. In the next few pages, I will share what I’ve learned and experienced, and what the perspective of heaven can teach us about suffering and loss that we might otherwise miss in our daily struggles down here on Earth.

  LOOKING DOWN ON YOUR LIFE

  Discovering that God has a plan for our lives (see Chapter 10) brings tremendous comfort on one level, but on another, it sets us up for some very hard questions:

  • Does our heavenly Father take an active role in allowing, or even orchestrating, challenges in our lives? Or does He simply make the best of them once they happen—making sweet lemonade from the sourest of lemons?

  • Does God ever change His plans? Can we mess up His plans for us by the choices that we make?

  • Given God’s divine will, do our desires or actions even matter?

  If these questions seem academic to you, I’d venture to say you have never been crushed by life.

  When I was rising up above that river in Chile, I saw my body. Looking down, I watched as my friends urgently tried to bring my body back to life. But my spirit was departing—leaving Earth for heaven. Already, I was seeing that frantic scene from a spiritual perspective. Down there, I saw fear and heartbreak. But I was at peace.

  Today I understand that the only helpful way you and I can understand suffering is through a similar change of perspective. Down here in the corn maze of our earthly lives, what we think will happen often doesn’t. Some hard things will just never make sense during our earthly journey. Instead, we must ask, What lessons does heaven teach?

  If we do, and if we give God time to work, the logic of heaven often reveals itself.

  I believe our all-powerful God both allows and orchestrates challenges, and He also uses them when they naturally occur. When Jesus was asked about the sins of a man blind from birth, He said the man had done nothing wrong, but that he had been born blind so “the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3).

  Lynn died on an operating room table and had a near-death experience. She saw her sobbing parents in a nearby room, but once she realized they would be fine, as she tells it now, she entered a horizontal tunnel leading to a bright light from which emerged two of her previously deceased and beloved dogs. They were radiating brilliance from within, and she felt nothing but gratitude when they came running to her and joyfully smothered her with kisses. Th
ey accompanied her as she walked toward a light that she described as a warm, living thing that contained all colors. She saw many people, including her grandparents and an uncle; everyone glowed with an inner light. Before returning to her physical body, she was able to ask Jesus whether it was true, as her elementary-school teacher had told her, that she had been given a lifelong heart condition so she would have a cross to carry like He had. She heard the voice of Christ vibrate through her as He said, “No, this heart condition is a challenge to help you grow and stay compassionate.”1

  Other unwelcomed circumstances and events can result from our own stubbornness, poor choices, and mistakes. In the previous chapter, I shared my thoughts on Jeremiah 29:11, which says, “ ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ ” How can God promise these things to us when every life is filled with so much struggle, pain, and disappointment?

  I believe what God is really promising in this verse is no different from what most parents strive to provide for their own children.

  Parents throughout the world imagine futures for their children filled with hope, love, satisfaction, and happiness. We want our children to flourish and prosper. We yearn for our children to grow up to be peaceable and honest, to have integrity. And because we see the larger picture, we set rules to keep our kids from harm. We don’t give them candy for every meal or allow them to cross a busy street unaccompanied. We advise against lifestyle choices we know will lead to sorrow and heartache. And we look for opportunities that will challenge our children to grow, teach valuable lessons, help them overcome fear, and develop their abilities and self-confidence.