Refining

Blessed Interruptions

~ Susan Brown ~ 4 Comments

She didn’t have the look of a seasoned hitchhiker. Aged in her thirties and wearing baggy shorts, a t-shirt and thongs, she turned toward us momentarily, revealing a face lined with worry as she lifted her thumb.

Mark glanced at me, his eyebrows raised, as we drove past. ‘Should we pick her up?’

‘Yep.’ I nodded, checking my watch. ‘We’ve got time.’ My husband knew I was wary of hitchhikers. But something in this woman stirred my compassion. If we left her behind, I was sure I’d regret it.

Stopping for this stranger wasn’t part of our plan for that evening. It was our 27th wedding anniversary and we’d been following our usual tradition of celebrating all day. We’d walked the Zigzag Track at Cataract Gorge with our teenage daughter, picnicked on a blanket in the shade of a spreading tree, then taken a cooling dip in the river that flowed behind our house. All we wanted to end the day well was a quiet dinner for two at a special restaurant.

That final part of our plan had already faced some challenges. Vague as we were from moving interstate only two weeks earlier, we realised that morning that we’d forgotten to book a table. Being a Friday in the peak of summer, free tables were going to be hard to find. So, as we walked, lunched and even swam, our conversation kept turning to the dinner problem. Again and again, we scrolled through websites and made phone calls, only to keep coming up with the same answer—no room.

The afternoon wore on, the scorching heat began to wane and we still hadn’t found a solution. After our swim, we showered and dressed ready to go out, then sat side by side on the couch—one armed with a phone, the other with a laptop. Dining out was a treat reserved for days like this and we weren’t ready to drop the idea. Not yet. There had to be a place for us somewhere, surely.

LORD, You know where it is. Please show us, we prayed for the umpteenth time.

We broadened our search, researching cafes and vineyards up the river—they had closed at 3pm. We looked at more restaurants in and around Launceston—all were fully booked until late. My thoughts drifted, picturing where I might set up a special table for us at home—we’d done that plenty of times before. But on this day, it just felt wrong.

Finally, at quarter past six, we discovered a restaurant in a new hotel on the edge of town. Mark phoned. They had room for us! We booked a table for 30 minutes later, kissed our daughter goodbye and set off on the 20-minute drive.  

Now, here we were, performing two U-turns so we could pull up behind the lady on the highway. As our car slowed, she turned and looked at us, her eyes narrowed. I climbed out of the car and offered my best smile and friendliest voice. ‘Hi! Would you like a ride?’

She hesitated, her gaze moving between us, then nodded and walked the few metres to climb into the back seat. ‘Thank you.’

I lowered myself into my seat and turned to face her, my smile still fixed in place. ‘I’m Sue. This is Mark.’

‘Hi.’ She spoke quietly.

Mark glanced in the rearview mirror. ‘We’re heading through town. Where would you like us to drop you?’

She named the area and Mark pulled onto the highway.

‘Thanks for picking me up.’ Her words sounded strained.    

‘That’s okay.’ I kept my voice bright. ‘It’s pretty hot out there.’

‘Yeah, it is.’

‘Had you been walking for long?’ Mark asked.

‘I went to visit a friend.’ She took a breath. ‘I was there for a couple of hours and everything was fine. Then he got angry and started yelling at me. I don’t even know why.’ She was silent for a moment before more words spilled out. She told us her friend had started acting strangely—like someone she didn’t even know. When she tried to calm him down, he wouldn’t listen. Then he became more aggressive. ‘I wanted to help him but, in the end, I just opened the front door and ran. I had to get out of there. It wasn’t safe anymore.’ 

‘It’s good you left when you did,’ I said. ‘That must have been really scary for you.’

‘It was.’ I heard the tremor in her voice. ‘I was afraid he might follow me, but he hasn’t.’ She lowered her tone. ‘I keep wondering what he’s doing now.’

Mark eyed her in the rearview mirror. ‘Are you worried he might hurt himself?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘So . . .’ I spoke softly, ‘do we need to take you to the police, then?’

She hesitated. ‘Mmm. Yes, I think so.’

While we drove to the police station, she rehashed the story as if she was still coming to terms with it. When we pulled up across the street from the station, I sneaked a quick look at my watch. Our restaurant was only two blocks away. Maybe we could still make it to dinner on time. Maybe. But if we ended up getting there late, that was okay. This woman’s safety was more important.

A couple of minutes passed and the woman remained in her seat, still talking through what happened. I turned to see confusion and pain flickering in her gaze. She paused and looked me in the eye. ‘I don’t understand why he would do that . . . I’m his friend.’

‘I know.’ My heart went out to her. She was so shaken. What could I do to help? She needed peace. The best thing I could do was pray. But would she let me?

At that exact moment, I noticed the necklace she was wearing—a fine, gold chain bearing a beautiful, delicate cross. My heart lifted. Of course I should offer! ‘Would it be okay if I pray for you?’

A look of surprise flashed across her face. ‘What?’

I gave a lopsided smile. ‘Can I pray with you before you go?’ 

‘Oh. Okay.’

She asked about our church and explained wistfully that she used to be involved with a small, local church group but had lost touch.

‘ Let me pray for you.’ I reached towards her. ‘Can I hold your hand?’

With one swift nod, she grabbed my hand with both of hers and gripped it firmly. 

I tightened my grasp in response.  ‘What’s your name?’

‘Meryl.’ (name changed for privacy)

I closed my eyes, ready to pray. Instantly, all our struggles about where to eat shifted into perspective, like the fragments of a kaleidoscope coming together to form a beautiful picture. Suddenly I understood. I held my breath, in awe of God’s kindness. It wasn’t a coincidence that we were driving down the highway when Meryl needed help. If the evening had gone according to our plan, we would have passed through earlier or even headed in the opposite direction. But God had set our course according to His timing and His plan. Amazing!

I squeezed Meryl’s hands and looked directly at her, speaking with conviction. ‘God loves you, Meryl, and He watches over you wherever you go. He loves you so much, He even arranged for us to be coming through tonight at just the right time to pick you up. And He’ll keep taking care of you as you look to Him. He’ll never let you go.’     

I prayed for her then—with Mark adding his amens from the driver’s seat—that God would fill her with peace, help her feel His presence and give her the courage she needed to tell the police what happened that afternoon. We prayed for her friend too, that God would surround him with His angels, help him get the support he needed and bring his mind back to a more stable, peaceful place. When I finished, we all opened our eyes.

‘Well, I better go now.’ Meryl unfastened her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

‘Would you like me to come with you?’ By this point, I was happy to join her at the police station if it would help.

She shook her head. ‘No, that’s okay. I can do it.’ She directed her words at both of us before climbing out. ‘Thank you for helping me.’

‘It was our pleasure.’

‘No worries. Bless you, Meryl.’

We watched her head across the road, still cautious but perhaps a little steadier on her feet.

Our prayers continued as we drove the short distance to the restaurant. We arrived only ten minutes late. Our table was waiting, the venue was peaceful and our meal was delicious. But those details paled in comparison to our wonder at the lavish love of God—and the joy it was to play our small part in His work in Meryl’s life.   

Most of the time, we view our days according to our plans, our desires, what we think is best. But—much as we might like to think otherwise—the world doesn’t revolve around us. It revolves around God. And sometimes He wants to interrupt our plans for the sake of someone else, so they can be blessed.

I wonder how many opportunities we miss because we’re so focused on satisfying our own cravings or getting through our list of tasks. God wants to lead us by His Holy Spirit, to help us see the opportunities He gives and take our place in His purposes. If we choose to resist His interruptions and reject the opportunities He gives, I have a feeling we’ll miss out on some of life’s most awe-inspiring moments.

‘If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.’ John 15:5b

A Way Through the Valley

~ Susan Brown ~ 2 Comments

I sat on the couch and stared blankly out the window, my eyes blind to tiny green shoots sprouting everywhere in the garden—usually a cause for joy. Depression loomed over me like a black-robed villain, pressing down on my soul, while despair tightened its grasp. I was sinking—I could feel it. I leaned forward and put my face in my hands, keenly aware that the divide between me standing firm or falling was so fragile, there was almost no barrier to stop me plummeting.

For a moment, I teetered on the edge, wondering what would happen if I let depression take hold. I was justified, wasn’t I? Wouldn’t anyone be low in my position?

Three years ago, our family uprooted and left our home state of twenty-five years to move north. While we relished being closer to my family and living near the coast, the process of establishing our career paths and forming new friendships was slow, hampered further by the 2020 lockdown.

Once COVID restrictions eased, we dusted ourselves off and ventured forward again, keen to build on the small foundations we’d already laid. Doors of opportunity began to open and our sense of belonging was growing when, wham! Our second lockdown hit. This one lasted much longer and its impact reverberated all the way to the laws of our nation. This time, along with rules and restrictions a clear message was proclaimed, challenging our ideas about what matters most and dictating the way we should view and treat people. Like the ripples of an earthquake, we felt its effects as key aspects of who we were as Australians began to shake.

Normally, I’m an upbeat girl, ready to believe the best of people and hold hope of better days beyond a trial. It’s rare for me to find myself in a place so deep and dark, I can’t see any way out. Lately, though . . . well, it’s been tough. I won’t go into detail beyond saying there are significant changes happening in my sphere and I’m facing heartbreaking loss in several areas, particularly relationships. When I see the people around me also struggling, my grief is multiplied.

We didn’t see this upheaval coming, nor can we see where it will take us. Almost every day the information seems to change. If ever there was a time to be confronted with our powerlessness, it’s now. We cry out to God and use the strength He gives to make the best of our situation and support others. Sometimes, though, the constancy of the battle wears us down and its length stretches us far beyond what we think we can bear. Hope fades and the gloom becomes so heavy, it immobilizes us. That’s where I found myself on the couch that day—staring into a darkness so thick, it seemed as if it could swallow me whole. Oh, God.

Then, softly, like a light shining through the fog, I sensed an echo of my own words from a couple of months back:

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels

‘The hardest of times became the high points in my life because of what God did through them.’

Those were words of hindsight, reflections on the darkest seasons in my journey. Through trauma, anorexia, relationship strains, burnout, life-threatening illness and tragic loss I’d felt God’s loving presence so close, known the wisdom of His counsel and seen His goodness poured out, even in the littlest details.

The hardest of times can become the best of times? Could that really be true in this situation?

Surely not this time, God. This is too big, too hard.

His response? You have a choice.

I paused, breathing deep. I did, didn’t I? I could let myself be pulled into the vortex of despair, or I could choose to put my hope in God and believe He would turn all of this—somehow—for good. Sitting up, I rubbed my hands against my legs and released a slow breath. I knew my emotions were shaky, far too weak to leap all the way from hopelessness to instant joy. I had a journey ahead—and from my former times of struggle I knew the steps I needed to take:

Photo by Hudson Hintze on Unsplash
  1. I asked for help

I picked up my phone and sent messages to my connect group leader, my church prayer team and a bunch of close friends, telling them how low I was and asking them to pray.

God puts us in community for our good. When we feel like we’re drowning, He urges us to confide in others, allowing them to lift us with their encouragement and prayers.  

‘Admit your faults to one another and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and wonderful results.’ James 5:16 TLB

2. I switched off the noise

Some words I’d been listening to offered hope. Others gave interesting information but stirred up anxiety and despair. I chose to switch off the second set.

When our emotions are too frail to deal objectively with negativity, we need to be vigilant, setting limits to protect our mind and heart.

‘Fix your thoughts on what is true and honourable and right and pure and lovely and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.’ Philippians 4:8 NLT

3. I simplified

I took a step back and chose to simplify what I could—clearing out clutter, putting aside big projects, giving myself time and space to rest.

Weary hearts and minds are easily overloaded. Sometimes we need to slow the pace for a while and just do the basics.

‘There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven.’ Ecclesiastes 3:1

4. I fixed my eyes

Once some of the mental and physical clutter had been cleared out, it was easier for me to define my focus. Again and again, I felt God urging me, ‘Fix your eyes on Me.’ So, again and again, I did. And every time I looked to Him, He brought new perspective to everything else.

No circumstance, person, disease or government determines the course of our lives. Above all, God is in control—and He is a good, loving Father.

‘Be still and know that I am God;

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth.’ Psalm 46:10

5. I nourished my spirit

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I spent extra time in God’s presence each morning, journaling and sitting quietly, chewing over portions of scripture and writing down verses He seemed to highlight. Like a starving child desperate for good food, I devoured every word that brought truth and perspective. Through the day I fed on the wisdom of others, listening to sermons and reading articles that built my faith.

God’s word is our food, His Spirit our life-giving water. To gain the strength we need for the path He’s marked out for us, we need to eat and drink daily from His provision.

‘When your words came, I ate them;

They were my joy and my heart’s delight . . .’ Jeremiah 15:16

6. I remembered God’s faithfulness

One day I listed in my journal the many trials of my past, each one so difficult I’d wondered if they would ever end. I remembered what God did, the profound truths He taught me and the way He led me all the way through—making me richer and wiser through the process.

The trials we face don’t last forever. They have a beginning and an endpoint. How we come out of them depends on how we go through them. If we’re willing to yield to God’s refining and receive His guidance on the way, He’ll work it all for good in our lives.

‘Consider it pure joy . . . whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.’ James 1:3

7. I let go

Finally, after dealing with all the other issues, I realised how entangled I’d become in all my imaginings of what might or might not happen. My attempts to figure and plan had woven a tight web around my soul, pinching me with disappointment and despair whenever circumstances didn’t work out as I’d hoped.

God alone could see the future.

Just as He was with me now, He would be with me in the days to come, supplying all I needed at every point along the way. To try to do His job was a waste of time and energy.

So, I surrendered.

I laid down my need to know how God was going to work everything out.

I chose to trust Him, believing He would bring me through and take care of me on the way.

I chose to take one day at a time, fixing my eyes on His face, following His nudges and giving my best to the people around me.

Scrawling that prayer of surrender in my journal brought great release, lightening the burden I’d been carrying and giving me freedom to focus on each day as a gift. It didn’t fix everything—our world is still in turmoil. But I find I’m more able to manage the fluctuations between anxiety and confidence, sadness and thankfulness by choosing to stay anchored in the truth that is stronger than my feelings:

This season won’t last forever.

God’s promises are true.

He is with us and, if we keep our eyes on Him, He’ll show us the way through—choice by choice—for however long it takes to come out the other side.

Photo by Chang Duong on Unsplash

And when we emerge from this battle,

we’ll be closer to God,

stronger in His truth and

more confident in His sufficiency

than we were at the beginning.

‘And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.’ Romans 8:28