“What better way to die?”
It had been a lot of long months. Moses in the desert. David with the sheep, and our son, stuck away in a factory.
He’d watched his peers, full of purpose, focused, making their way right through college. But not him.
Oh, he’d tried it. He’d gone one semester, and it was a bust. For this all-or-nothing kid, there had to be a compelling reason, a solid answer to the “why” that would spark his 100%. Which was missing.
For an ADHD fellow, it was torture. Sheer misery at that quilting machine. He’d wanted to go and be and do and see, but instead, he was mired in monotony. Making mattresses.
He knocked and he sought. He tried and he pushed, attempting to force the doors open. He prayed and he fretted. Sought counsel and strove, but heaven, it seemed, was stone silent. Except…
It was during that time of forced staying and inaction that heaven, it really was speaking. For it was there at that job, right at that machine, that God, He was moving and working. Hour after hour, he would listen to sermons, would take in the Scriptures book by book. Through his earbuds.
God’s Word, we’ve been promised, cannot return void, and His Word will accomplish its mission. Seeds sown will bear fruit in a heart that is eager. Fertile soil that’s been turned by the blade. Comes through hearing…
Then one night, the tide turned. I’d been feeling his restlessness, desperation increasing. Anxiety approaching the flood stage. And Spirit quickened.
Looking at him, seeing his angst, I said, “What if. What if you cease from your striving and flailing, and you fast? What if you fast from all the other things you’re trying right now–just for awhile–and you listen? You get still before God, and you listen.”
He watched me, and listened. Tension scrolled tight on his face.
“And what if Dad and I, we fast with you, too, and we ask God to give you direction?”
That’s how it began. One day a week, we would band together, brothers, too, and noon’s hour became corporate altar. At the workplace, in the classroom, wherever we were, we would fast, asking God for direction. And He answered.
God’s “yes!” is so good. It’s so perfect and fitting, just right for our adventurous son. For an adrenaline junky who loves God and loves people, who witnessed to the lost on the playground (yes, he did), the World Race was God’s answer for him.
Can I tell you how faithful God’s been on this journey? How faithful He was to prepare him? All those months that he chafed, that he fretted and strained in such a monotonous job, God was training. And all those months of waiting, of feeling forsaken, left behind, overlooked, and forgotten, God was working.
Then the “yes,” the provision, and the sending.
Today, we are ecstatic. Grateful and thrilled. So excited that he’s launched on his mission. For the next 11 months, all the energy, passion, and compassion that he carries will be spent on the last, lost, and least.Bless the Lord!
But back to that wake, and the danger. I felt myself bristle when she brought it up. “Remember that one kid who died? On his mission?” Good Lord. He’s not left yet, and someone is questioning? Someone is raising the specter? But our racer…
Oh, our racer, he said (and his face shone with light), five words: “What better way to die?”
In His service, near or far. At home or abroad. Being a missionary or being a mama. Whatever we’re doing, if we’re following Him, five words: “What better way to die?”
Live like that.
“And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they loved not their lives unto death.” – Revelations 12:11
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Pray for Team Kairos: Jamison, Greg, Kelly Anne, Catherine, and Shirletha plus Kyle (not pictured)