holding on to wood

Steadied Through the Storm

Most life-changing news doesn’t come with any warning. In 1981, it started for us as a simple spot on my wife’s side—something odd, nothing urgent. By the time doctors scheduled surgery for what they thought was a harmless cyst, we had no idea our lives were about to change.

I sat alone in the largest surgery waiting room I’d ever seen, watching the clock until the expected time passed. The big screen TV was showing I Love Lucy, but nobody was watching. The cheerful voices felt out of place in that vast, empty room with only me and my anxious thoughts. I stared at the door, hoping the doctor would walk in with good news. When he finally appeared, his tense face said it all.

“It wasn’t what we thought,” the surgeon said quietly. “It’s a malignant tumor. Your wife is going to need very specialized care.” His words landed heavy, and after a few more sentences, he left, closing the door behind him.

We were only 21, and I was unprepared for a burden like this. My faith was still new, despite growing up in church. After my wife was brought back to her room, I sat quietly by her side. I opened the Gideon’s Bible from the drawer—and found myself staring at Psalm 40:

I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,

and he turned to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the pit of despair,

out of the mud and the mire.

He set my feet on solid ground

and steadied me as I walked along.

As a young Christian, I clung to that verse the way a shipwrecked sailor clings to a plank—battered and adrift in cold waters, desperate for something solid in the storm.

As I held onto that promise, I realized God’s reassurances are for every generation and every circumstance. He speaks words of comfort and challenge through all our storms—like his encouragement to Joshua:

“Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

But sitting in that hospital room, I didn’t feel strong or courageous. Yet I felt a support holding me up, and I knew it could only be God. Over the years since that day, I’ve come to understand courage as pressing forward and doing what needs to be done despite our fears.

In the decades since that day, my wife has been cancer-free, but we have faced many other hardships. By the grace of God, we have pressed on—sometimes battered and bruised, but always a little wiser for the experience.

Whatever you’re going through now—or whatever you may face tomorrow—don’t let fear hold you back. You do not walk alone. God’s presence surrounds you, stronger than any challenge you might face.

. . . and that’s what I know today.

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