I I had been waiting in line for over an hour, waiting to meet a woman whose daughter, my son’s girlfriend, had just died in a car accident.
While I waited, I took a deep breath to keep my emotions in check. Destiny had overwhelmed us. My career in finance had just collapsed because I was fired as a whistleblower. We were slashing our expenses and were at risk of losing our home. And I attended my second vigil in three weeks.
Nineteen days before Kira died, my other son’s girlfriend, Ashley, had committed suicide. His funeral was small and somber. But something remarkable happened. Debbie, a friend of Ashley’s family, had spoken kindly to my wife and me. On several occasions, she came to us and asked if we or our sons needed support. In a sea of darkness, Debbie was the only light we saw that day. I was surprised, comforted and drawn to his warmth and compassion.
However, I quickly forgot her, consumed by the many tragedies that had invaded our lives.
Now, as we stood in line to pay our respects to Kira’s mother, I saw Debbie again. She asked about both of our sons, worried that our family had suffered two losses in such a short time. More kindness, more light, more gentleness when we needed it.
As she walked away, I turned to hide the tears in my eyes. In silence I wondered, Who is like that?
My thoughts returned to my two sons, who seemed to have just returned from the war. I knew they needed help to rebuild their broken lives.
TThe line was getting shorter as I thought about what to say to Kira’s mother. Having never met her, I only knew two things about her: she had been very close to her daughter and she was a Christian. I didn’t like “church people”. In my opinion, Christians were naive and hypocritical. But I put those feelings aside to mentally rehearse the condolences I would share.
As I prepared to speak, she reached out and took my hand in a friendly manner. Then she surprised me by talking about my family’s grief rather than her own. “I’m so sorry that Zach lost Ashley,” she said. “We are friends with the family, so we know what a tragedy this was. When this is over, can I spend some time with Zach?
I was stunned. Speechless. My wife took it from there, said all the right things and kept us moving forward.
As I walked away, I asked the universe: What is happening here? She just lost her daughter, her best friend, and she wants to take care of my son? Who do this ?
A few minutes later, Debbie came back and said, “Hey, you know, our pastor is here. Would you like to meet him?
My mind split in two. On the one hand, I thought, No! I don’t meet pastors. I don’t like pastors. I don’t like church people. On another side, Hmm… something is weird here, and I’m curious. If this guy is half as nice as these two women, maybe I should meet him.
I found my lips forming the words seemingly on their own: “Sure, that would be nice.”
It turns out that Pastor Peter was half as nice, and even more than half. He was strong and comforting. And he invited our sons to a new grief group he was starting. I didn’t know how to help my sons, but he did.
On the way home, my wife turned to me and said, “I’m going to start going to church.” » It was not a request or an invitation to join her. She knew I hated church. Still, I volunteered to come.
At the funeral the next day, my wife heard words of life from the scriptures, and her memories of going to church as a youth came back to her. She was saved immediately.
But my unchurched youth and rebellious spirit locked me in a battle that would rage for months. Of course, I felt something moving during this funeral and the Sunday mornings that followed. But I’m not really a feeler. I am a thinker, and in my mind there was every argument against Jesus Christ and the Bible.
A few weeks after the funeral, my father-in-law sent me a study Bible in the mail. Once again I struggled: Should I read the book I swore I would never read – the book that I believed was written by ancient kings to control the masses? I picked it up and said, “My God, if you’re in this book, I’m going to be very upset, because I’ll have been wrong for 50 years.” But I guess… I want to know. I decided to read it cover to cover.
Three months later, I was in the book of Leviticus when I began to hear from God. It was nothing audible, just a feeling. The feeling of being someone loving, kind, encouraging, strong, personal and available.
During this time, I began to review my character with God. Every evening when I read my Bible, I would have a conversation about how I was measuring up or failing. This may sound strange, but it seemed natural to me. I had read about the Israelites, who were treated so well and promised so much by God with one condition: to remain faithful. So, after hearing about the fickleness of the Israelites in Genesis and Exodus, I was ready to evaluate myself.
Soon, God began to work in me, changing bad habits and moral failures. Step by step we worked on improving my character. This lasted two years as God helped me cleanse myself of all the willful sins in my life, including alcoholism.
During this process, I fell in love. I looked forward to opening my Bible each evening. Soon, I also began talking with God during the day. He was always with me, encouraging me in my failures and celebrating with me in my victories.
For whatI was wondering, Didn’t anyone tell me I could live like that? I had the God who created everything speaking to me personally whenever I wanted. And he wanted me to be with him!
Top: Randy Loubier’s personal Bible. Bottom: Loubier Church in New Boston, New Hampshire.
IIt took me 14 months to completely digest the Old Testament. When I got to Malachi, I started to get nervous. I was going to leave My God – the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob – to meet Jesus.
At that time, I met with my pastor every week, peppering him with my old arguments. He also had a weekly men’s breakfast with strong Christians who could answer my questions and encourage my faith journey.
Yet I was still nervous about meeting Jesus. I had learned a lot about him from people I respected. Oddly, though, for a left-brained, science-oriented guy who’s content with knowing the facts, mental knowledge wasn’t enough. I had built a relationship with the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; he was my love, my sanctuary, my refuge, my ever-present help in difficult times.
So imagine my joy when I started reading Matthew and the relationship didn’t change at all! When I came to John and read the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us, I discovered that I had been talking to Jesus all along.
Today, I remain a voracious Bible reader. Jesus, the Word, is everything to me. He saved me. These are not words I said or heard from anyone else. It was THE Word.
But make no mistake, it was the church that first aroused my curiosity. If God’s people had not led me to question His special love, I would never have deciphered God’s Word and fallen in love myself.
Randy Loubier is pastor of Chestnut Hill Chapel in New Boston, New Hampshire. He is the author of several non-fiction books and novels, including Slow brew tea.
Do you have anything to add on this subject? See something we missed? Share your comments here.
