Sunday, May 24, 2009

Chapel address at Redeemer

Earlier this year, I addressed the Redeemer University College community in one of the weekly chapels. The theme of this year's chapels were "God's power in weakness".

Shortly after I left Redeemer I met an amazing girl. Paula was pretty, smart, funny, kind, athletic, and passionate about many things. She was Irish and played rugby with fierce determination. She was like no other girl I had ever met. I was intrigued. I fell in love. After a few years, we got married. We lived in Vancouver, moved to England for a few years, and traveled Europe together. Eventually we made it back to Ontario, setting up home in Ottawa where I had landed a good job, and shortly after we had our first child, a son named Micah. We had big dreams for our life together.

But, these dreams would never come true. Almost two years ago now, Paula was killed in a car accident. She and Micah were struck from behind by a dump truck. She died a day later from a very serious brain injury. Micah was miraculously spared, without any serious injury.

This life with Paula and all our dreams came to a sudden and tragic end. All of a sudden I was a widower and a single father to a ten-month old boy. I was thrust into a new life that I did not want, full of pain, loneliness, confusion, shock, bewilderment, surrealness.

Let me tell you, when your wife dies – and all your hopes and dreams for the future die with her – you are about as weak as it gets. There is a profound mystery in marriage of the two becoming one. Losing your wife is like having half of who you are being torn from you. Your life, which seemed so much in your control, is all of a sudden spinning out of control. You are powerless to do anything.

In the weeks and months that followed Paula’s death it become clear that the one thing I had some control over was how to respond to this tragedy. I had to choose between two roads. One was to retain my own power and pride and play the part of a victim and become bitter and angry. The other was to allow God’s power to enter into my weakness and transform me and this terrible situation; to be open to God’s grace and comfort. I resolved to assume a posture of being open to God working in this situation.

I don’t want you to get the impression that this was or is easy, because I was really questioning where God was in all this (and still do). This quote from Nicholas Wolterstorff is very meaningful to me:


The Bible speaks of God over-coming death.... God is appalled by death.... I cannot fit it all together by saying 'He did it' but neither can I do so by saying 'There was nothing He could do about it.' I cannot fit it together at all. I can only, with Job, endure. I do not know why God did not prevent Eric's [Paula's] death.... I can do nothing else than endure in the face of this deepest and most painful of mysteries. I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth and resurrecter of Jesus Christ. I also believe that my son's [wife's] life was cut off in its prime. I cannot fit these pieces together... To the most agonizing question I have ever asked I do not know the answer. I do not know why God would watch him [her] die. I do not know why God would watch me wounded.... I am not angry, but baffled and hurt. My wound is an unanswered question. The wounds of all humanity are an unanswered question.

Wounded, hurt, baffled, enduring, agonizing, questioning, deep and painful mystery… this is a fair description of my grief over Paula’s death. I don’t have answers to my suffering and loss, and I probably will never have answers. To demand those answers is to demand power. I can only remain weak and not know.

About a month after Paula died, I had a series of visions. One night, my mind was racing with thoughts about what this new life was going to look like. It was like God was giving me a roadmap of where I was to go and what I was to do: move into a house with some friends in Ottawa, quit my job, return to Vancouver to study theology at Regent College, move to Hamilton and work at Redeemer. This is the closest I have ever been to God “speaking” to me. I could not rest until this was written down in my journal.

Not having a clue of my own as to what I was going to do with my life without Paula, I decided to go with what I felt was God’s plan. When I did pursue these things, the doors would fly open. All of these things have happened. Last semester I was at Regent College in Vancouver. Here I am speaking to you today at Redeemer.

But still, this was not easy, especially making the final decision to come here to Redeemer. I must confess that I struggled with my pride. Why would I give up this great job to teach chemistry at Redeemer? Again, I felt that I had to submit to God’s call, rather than try to do things on my own power. I don’t exactly know why God has me here, but I am excited to be here, and open to the fact that he may work through me.

Another aspect that I have experienced God’s power is through his Church. I have had to learn to set aside my tendency to try and do things myself and to accept help. And his Church has offered so much support and comfort and prayer, in very powerful and meaningful ways.

Help with raising my son, for example. He won’t grow up with his mother, but rather will be raised by a combination of me, aunts and uncles, grandparents, friends. There’s no other way. I can’t do it by myself.

Another example are the Christian friends who have invited Micah and me to live “in community” with them. In Ottawa; in Vancouver; and now in Hamilton in a very significant way. My friends offered to sell their house so that we could buy a house together so that they can support Micah and I. We live in a big old house downtown and share much of our lives. I am far less lonely that I would be if the Christian community – God’s hands in the world – did not surround me with their love and support. But I have had to be weak to accept it.

I don’t want to leave you with the impression that all this “God’s power in weakness” business means that I have recovered from my loss, that everything is fine and good now. My life is full of paradoxes. I have intense moments of simultaneous joy and sorrow; of being baffled and hurt by God, but also feeling his tremendous comfort and provision. In fact, what I am learning is that I will never “recover” from this loss. Life will never be the same. I have been and will be changed by it and affected by it for the rest of my life. It’s like when Jacob wrestled with God. I have to learn how to live with this limp.

I know that life can be good and rich and joyful again, perhaps even richer than had I not suffered this loss. But don’t get me wrong. I would trade all this sorrow to have Paula back. But that’s not up to me. I don’t have the power to do that. I can only allow God into my weak and broken situation. He is faithful. Frustrating, bewildering, confusing at times. But faithful.

I want to close by saying that you will suffer. You are kidding yourself if you think that you will not suffer a significant loss of some sort during your life, perhaps sooner than you think. And when you do, I want you to encourage you, in the weakness of suffering, to be open to God’s grace and his ability to work powerfully in your life. Please choose this over bitterness and anger.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

It seems that you are going to continue to bring great strength to so many people through this. Thank you for sharing this Darren. God uses you so powerfully. Lots of love. Alice. XXX

d said...

Wow. Darren, these are incredibly powerful words. Strength and wisdom to you as you continue to listen to His leading.

SPot