117 Sermon Illustrations on Tragedy

The CHRISTIAN CENTURY carried a story several years ago about a young man named Lou Marshall who at one time was a student at Yale Divinity School and worked in one of New York City’s worst slum neighborhoods. His ministry was to a few of the city’s teenaged gang members. In fact, he was instrumental in heading off a potentially bloody rumble between two of the gangs, the Young Untouchables and The Playboys. It was while he was walking home from mediating this dispute that he was attacked by four gang members who resented his interference in gang affairs. Lou Marshall was beaten senseless on the streets of New York City and left in a pool of his own blood by four young men he was trying to help. Two days later, he died.

At the memorial service attended by members of both gangs whose battle he had headed off the Reverend Howard Moody, pastor of the Judson Memorial Church in Greenwich Village said, “Lou’s death is a testimony of our [struggle] as human beings and a city of people to build a place where people can dwell together in peace. Some people will say that the crumbling pavement on which he died wasn’t worth his life so full of promise and hope others might say that he was foolish to become involved in a way that was so dangerous. Still I believe that street has been made more holy because a man’s blood was shed - a man who had the courage to stand there for what he believed was right. Early Christians believed that because of the shedding of the blood of Jesus Christ, the world would be a different and better place. Peter wrote, ‘You were ransomed from your futile ways not with perishable things such as silver and gold but with the precious blood of Christ.’”

Where are your gods that you have made for yourselves? Let them arise, if they can save you in the time of your trouble. — Jeremiah 2:28

Ever notice how people react to tragedy? Even the nonreligious try to get the attention of God, whom they have previously ignored. Accounts of plane crashes, floods, tornadoes, or hurricanes often tell of someone who calls on the Lord for help.

It would be nice to think that the heavenly Father is just waiting for such times of panic so He can send all the emergency equipment of heaven to the rescue. But the Bible indicates otherwise. Through Jeremiah, the Lord challenged His people who were in trouble to get help in the hour of death from the idols they had worshiped. He wanted them to see the futility of trusting false gods.

The Lord may ask the same question of us. In an hour of distress, He may say, “Why do you cry for Me now? Where are your sports heroes and movie stars? Why not seek help from the TV, appeal to your paycheck, take comfort in your possessions, or rely on your credit cards? Let these gods whom you’ve served so faithfully now serve you!”

God doesn’t want us to think we can go on trusting false gods and still expect Him to protect us from trouble. He graciously grants forgiveness to us if we are truly repentant. And He offers hope and help to those who have learned to depend on Him all the time. — MRDII

The gods of this world are empty and vain,

They cannot give peace to one’s heart;

The Living and True One deserves all our love—

From Him may we never depart. — D. De Haan

Those who walk with God always find Him close at hand.

Dong Yun Yoon of University City, California, will never forget this Christmas. Two weeks ago, his family was killed when a Marine F-18 Hornet fighter jet lost power and crashed into his home.

In an instant, this season of joy become a time of unimaginable sorrow for Yoon. However, his response to the tragedy can only be described as a great gift to all of us.

The plane’s engines failed during a training flight off the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln. The pilot, Lt. Dan Neubauer, tried to reach Miramar Marine Corps Air Station in San Diego but wound up safely ejecting from the plane about two miles from the station.

The plane crashed into the Yoon’s just-moved-into home. Young Mi Yoon, their daughters Rachel and Grace, and her mother were killed.

While the tragedy was front-page news, what happened next captured the imagination of the country. The next day, an understandably devastated Yoon told reporters that he didn’t have any “hard feelings” toward the pilot and that he knew that the pilot “did everything he could.”

Not only that, Yoon said, “I pray for him not to suffer for this action,” and called him “one of our treasures for the country.”

Having embodied grace and forgiveness, Yoon then told reporters what made it possible: “I believe my wife and two babies and mother-in-law are in heaven with God,” and he prayed with other family members and friends.

Yoon’s words and actions reminded Adrian Hong, a human rights advocate, of the circumstances surrounding the writing of the hymn “It Is Well with My Soul” — in both instances, tragedy and sorrow were turned into a great witness to the power of Christian hope.

There’s another hymn this episode brings to mind — “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” by Charles Wesley. In the last stanza we sing that Jesus was “born that man no more may die” and “born to raise the sons of earth.”

While we may not associate Christmas and the Incarnation with our Lord’s victory over death, the Church fathers did.

In “On the Incarnation of the Word,” Athanasius wrote that it was because all of us were “under penalty of the corruption of death” that the Word took “to Himself a body capable of death.” Since the Word “by His one body has come to dwell among” us, “the corruption of death which before was prevailing against [Man] is done away.”

As a result of what Athanasius called “His gracious coming among us,” “the way up into the heavens” is “made ready” for those, like the Yoons, who put their faith in him.

This “new beginning of life for us” and the graciousness that makes it possible is at the heart of the Christian hope. It consoles us and enables us to be gracious even when our world is falling apart.

It is this hope, born on the first Christmas, that Peter tells us we must always be ready to explain.

Dong Yun Yoon certainly was. For that he has my gratitude and prayers.

________

Copyright (c) 2008 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint with Chuck Colson" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

[A long testimony of a hiking couple who had a near-death experience in the Grand Canyon, and the spiritual lessons they learned from it.]

Grand Canyon Story, June 2014

Catherine and I had been so excited about our vacation. We planned to backpack for three nights in the Grand Canyon and then hike and camp in Zion National Park and Bryce Canyon National Park. This was a trip we had both wanted to take even before we ever knew each other. The airplane tickets and trip dates were scheduled for June 2-14, 2014. This would give us enough time to hit the highlights in each of those locations and include some other fun side trips in between. We were both in good physical shape going into the trip; Catherine had been working out and running extensively, and I had just trained for and completed a 60 mile mountain bike race. Neither of us had any reservations or concerns about the backpacking or hiking we planned to do throughout the trip.

On Wednesday, June 4, we arrived at Grand Canyon National Park and camped at Mather Campground on the rim. We had an enjoyable evening looking at and taking pictures of the canyon from the rim, gathering last minute supplies, showering before our 3 night backpacking trip, and eating a good supper. The alarm would be going off the next morning at 3:15, Thursday, June 5 so we were in bed by 8:30-9:00 to get a decent night’s sleep. If I recall, we both slept well until we woke up at 3:15. Once we were up, we were both hurrying around packing our backpacks, tearing down our campsite, and eating a good breakfast of eggs, ham, and cheese. We were at the Hermit’s Rest Shuttle pickup by 4:45 and got on the shuttle at 5:00. The shuttle stopped at all the overlooks along the way, so we didn’t make it to Hermit’s Rest trailhead until 5:45.

After taking a couple of pictures and a bathroom stop, we were on the trail by 6:00. We each carried five liters of water for the day along with food for four days and our camping equipment. The Hermit trail was incredibly beautiful on the hike down. It was very rough, steep, and rocky, but nothing that I felt we weren’t completely capable of. Both of us had been on trails similar to it.

Along the way down, we would stop occasionally to take a picture or to look at something or to rest for a few minutes. We only took two or three breaks of note on the way down, ranging from ten to thirty minutes. At two of them I know for sure that we ate a Clif bar and/or our PB&J burrito or bagel–Catherine had the bagel and I had the burrito. At one of these breaks, since we both had drained our two liter Camelbacks, we refilled with the two liter reservoir each of us had in our packs. The weather felt really nice and dry until about 9:30-10:00 when we began walking in the sun, closer to the bottom of the canyon. The deeper into the canyon we walked, the hotter it got, as was expected.

Sometime around 11:00-11:30 we saw another group of hikers coming our way from Hermit Creek. We stopped and spoke with them for a few minutes and they told us about a really nice pool near the campsite right on Hermit Creek. We thanked them for the suggestion and told them we’d definitely have to get in and cool off. Around 12:00 we made it down to Hermit Creek Campsite, which was still 1.5 miles short of where we had intended to camp at Hermit Rapids, right on the Colorado River.

Once at Hermit Creek, we threw our packs down to take a good rest and eat. At this point Catherine told me she was not feeling well and was tired with a headache. I wasn’t too concerned at the time but encouraged her to rest and cool off by the pool as well as eat and drink. We hung out by the pool for around an hour. I don’t recall how much either of us was drinking while we were there, but I’m sure we both were drinking some. I do know that once we arrived at Hermit Creek we had emptied our Camelbacks again (we now had each drunk four liters). While we were resting at the Hermit Creek pool, Catherine began feeling better and both looked and was acting completely normal. Even though Hermit Creek Campsite looked like a great place to camp, I told Catherine that I’d like to walk on down to Hermit Rapids and check it out since that was what our original plan was. If we didn’t like it, we would just walk back to the Hermit Creek Campsite since it didn’t look like anyone else would be there.

Around 1:00 pm on Thursday, June 5, we left Hermit Creek to walk the 1.5 miles to Hermit Rapids to check it out. Shortly after we began, Catherine began walking very slowly, as if she were tired. We walked approximately three quarters of a mile from Hermit Creek and she was totally out of steam and I could tell at that point that she really felt bad. We made it to a little overhang with shade underneath it to rest until she got to feeling better. I encouraged her to eat some snacks and I believe she ate some prunes and maybe a Clif bar or some nuts. We rested under the overhang for about three hours. During that time, I put a wet bandana around her neck multiple times to keep her cool.

After about thirty minutes, I told her to stay there and I would walk down to Hermit Rapids to determine whether or not we should camp there or go back to Hermit Creek. Hermit Rapids ended up being a neat location right by the Colorado River, but it was incredibly hot there and felt like an oven (+100°F). I walked back up Hermit Creek where Catherine was resting under the overhang and continued to put wet bananas or towels on her to keep her cool. At 4:00, I told her that even though she still felt bad, we needed to walk back up to Hermit Creek Campsite where we would be in a better situation to get her feeling better. There we could set up camp and cool off in the pool at Hermit Creek. When we left the overhang, Catherine slung on her pack and after a few steps I could tell she wasn’t able to carry it without great difficulty. So I took her pack and mine and we began walking the three quarters of a mile back to where we had left a few hours earlier. The whole way Catherine was walking very slowly and I obviously knew that something wasn’t right. My best guess was that she had gotten too hot and just needed rest, water, and to cool down. I do remember thinking that I had never seen her like this before. She has always been a strong hiker and tough to push through minor discomforts (maybe this turned out to be a bad thing on this trip).

Once we got back to Hermit Creek Campsite, we threw down our packs and I went down to cool off in the water while Catherine stayed where we were going to pitch our tent to rest for a few minutes before she came down to join me. About the time I was coming back to camp, she was going down to the water to wash off and enjoy the water. I began setting up camp and getting ready to cook supper while Catherine was washing off in the creek. By the time she came back up to the tent, I had remembered that I had a first aid book in my first aid kit and had been reading it.

I found the section on heat exhaustion (which is what I thought she had) and she had almost every single symptom. It wasn’t until much later that I found out she had a condition I’d never heard of called hyponatremia, or very low sodium, from drinking too much water. Turns out, the symptoms for heat exhaustion and hyponatremia are nearly identical, and my first aid booklet didn’t say anything about hyponatremia.

The treatment my book recommended for heat exhaustion was to rest, drink fluids, and lower the patient’s body temperature by either wrapping her in wet clothing or immersing her in water. After reading that and the following section on heat stroke (which listed horrible symptoms such as seizures, coma, and an 80% fatality rate) I immediately went and soaked handkerchiefs and my long sleeved cotton shirt in the creek and made her wrap up in them. I recall her saying she was cold from this, but I assured her we had to lower her body temperature to get her feeling better. I had her neck wrapped with a handkerchief, water bottles in each of her armpits, another handkerchief or shirt on her chest, my soaked long sleeved shirt wrapped around her legs, along with another cold water bottle between her legs.

By the time I had done this it was roughly 7:00 and we had already eaten supper. When I had cooked earlier, Catherine had told me she was nauseated and didn’t feel like eating, but I forced her to eat the majority of a bowl of Ramen noodles and salmon. Sometime around supper time, I noticed that Catherine was not with it 100% mentally so I began asking her random questions. Her answers were hit or miss at best. This was incredibly alarming to me, but I didn’t know what else to do except continue to let her rest and get her body temperature down. Between 7:00-8:00, Catherine rested either in the tent or sitting on a rock outside the tent, wrapped in the wet shirts and handkerchiefs.

As I kept reading in the first aid booklet, I read more into the heat stroke section and began getting very concerned. In order to avoid being another statistic in the 80% fatality rate it listed, I told her we needed to get her down to the pool in the creek and let her sit in it for a while. She was able to walk to the pool on her own, even though I was helping her so she wouldn’t fall on the rough trail down to it. We soaked her in the pool for roughly 15-20 minutes between 8:00 and 8:30. After doing this, I remember her telling me that she was feeling better and her headache had subsided. She was also responding more normally to the random questions I was asking her. As we laid back down in the tent, I read some scripture to Catherine and prayed for her aloud. I remember being worried enough at that point that I prayed Matthew 21:22 that says “And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith.” Even as worried as I was at that point, I trusted that after a good night’s rest she would be fine the next morning. At 9:00, after reading scripture on my phone and praying together, we turned the headlamps off and tried to go to sleep.

At 10:00, Catherine woke me up screaming with her first seizure. It was a full body seizure that lasted roughly one to two minutes. She was foaming at the mouth, convulsing from the seizure, and also bleeding from the mouth from biting her tongue. That was the scariest and worst moment of my life. I had no idea what to do and we were at the bottom of the Grand Canyon by ourselves, miles from anyone, on one of the most remote trails in the canyon, and 8 miles and 4000 feet of climbing from help on the rim. I recall screaming as hard as I could for help, knowing nobody was around or could hear me but I didn’t know what else to do.

At some point during all this it came to me that she was likely having a heat stroke. All I knew to do was read the first aid book for advice and ask our Lord in prayer for His help. The treatment given by the book was to reduce the body temperature as soon as possible and it listed water immersion as a means to reaching that goal. Immediately I opened the tent to begin dragging Catherine out of it where I could carry her to the pool of water. She was completely unconscious and totally limp. I don’t recall if her eyes were open or closed, but I believe open at this point. As I drug her out of the tent, I scooped her up in my arms to carry her at chest level and to try to stabilize her neck because it seemed so loose.

I carried her down the short but steep and rocky trail to the pool of water. It was such a rough trail and she was so awkward to carry, being limp, I believe I fell with her one or two times, continuing to pray to our heavenly Father for strength and help. As I dunked her into the pool of water, even though she was mentally not with me, her body was fighting me physically because of the cool water. I believe this helped to shock her system, to keep her with me. As I forced her to stay in the water instead of collapsing onto the rock next to the pool, she was sort of crying and moaning and didn’t seem to be able to control her body whatsoever. I just kept talking to her and telling her how much I loved her and that it was all going to be okay.

After maybe ten minutes in the water, I pulled her out, keeping her wrapped in the wet clothes and handkerchiefs and we laid down on the rock next to the pool. During this time she actually came to and asked me what had happened, why we were down there, and also told me that her tongue was hurting. At some point I ran back up the tent and got her Thermarest sleeping pad to keep her comfortable along with some water and food so we could stay by the creek where it was cooler. After getting her onto her Thermarest, I just remember talking to her constantly, making sure she was still with me, and constantly praying that the Lord would be with us to heal Catherine and get us out of there.

Around 11:00, as we were lying on the rock by the pool, Catherine began screaming again in her second seizure. These screams were like nothing I’d ever heard before. They were not her screams; they were a horrible, wretched, out-of-her-mind type of screams that I pray I never have to hear again. After another couple of minutes of seizing and the after effects, I drug her back into the water at which point her body began fighting me to get out of it again, even though she was unconscious mentally. I can recall how horrible and scared I felt to force her down into the water because she was again kind of moaning and crying as I kept her in the water. I didn’t know what else to do ... my first aid booklet was out of answers at that point.

After this seizure and holding her down in the water for another ten to fifteen minutes, she was completely unconscious and unresponsive. However, I believe I could get her to open her eyes occasionally as I was talking to her and calling her name. Sometime around this point, I recall telling myself that if she was still with me at 12:00, I would leave and start hiking back to the rim for help.

Until 12:00, I just lay with her, scared to death that she was going to go on to be with the Lord at any minute. I talked to her almost constantly, hoping she could hear me, just saying things to her that a husband would want to tell his wife in such a situation, or praying to the Lord that He would bring us through this and save her physically as he already had spiritually. The verses that I continued praying were Matthew 21:22 and James 5:16 which says, “The effective prayer of the righteous man can accomplish much.” I was praying that, even though I knew I wasn’t righteous on my own aside from Christ, He would hear my prayers and save Catherine’s life.

Around 12:00, I ran back up to the campsite and began getting my stuff together so I could leave and go get help. I was only going to carry food, water, my GPS, and some odds and ends that were still in my pack. I changed clothes, laced one boot up, and, as I began lacing the other, I heard Catherine screaming again with her third seizure. I sprinted back down the hill and saw she was having another full body seizure. After she stopped, I drug her back into the water, absolutely out of options other than to continue to try to decrease her body temperature. Again she was fighting me physically but was not with it mentally. After another ten or fifteen minutes in the water, I pulled her out and continued to try to keep the wet handkerchiefs and shirt on her. At that point I remember being confused as to why this was still happening because she appeared to be shaking from the cold water.

Later on, as she continued to shiver from the cold and I was fairly certain she was dying, I took the wet shirt and handkerchiefs off of her and wrapped her in my sleeping bag that I had brought down at some point. I wanted her to be comfortable. My prayer at this point — I was completely desperate — was that even though I was selfish and wanted to keep my wife with me, if the Lord was taking her home, I prayed that she would go gently and not be in any pain. The little comfort I felt came from knowing without a doubt where Catherine would spend her eternity. I had no question that she would be with God in Heaven and whatever happened I knew she would be better off there, even though I would miss her terribly while I was still on earth.

I monitored Catherine’s pulse and breath continuously to make sure she was still with me. They were both incredibly weak and I had to pay close attention to notice either. I continued to talk to her and would say her name, hoping she was still with me and would open her eyes. I think she did sometimes, but I’m not sure of it now. She seemed so close to death at that point, I just decided to stay with her and lie beside her because I wanted to be with her for that. At one point, I turned my phone on again and tried to call 911, and, as I figured, I had no service. I then turned the phone to airplane mode so the battery wouldn’t run down in case I needed it later and I read scripture to Catherine as we were lying there. If the Lord was going to take her home, I couldn’t think of a better way to go than to the reading of scripture.

At 2:00, as I continued to lie there with her, it hit me that since she was still breathing, I needed to try to get out and get help. So I put my boots on and ran back up to the tent, grabbed my pack, water bladders, and food. One of the things I am so thankful for is that the Lord gave me a focus throughout all this. Even though I had some major come apart times throughout, He kept me focused and gave me clear thinking so I would have enough sense to get myself food and plenty of water for the nearly eight miles and 4000 feet of climbing I had ahead of me on one of the roughest trails in the Grand Canyon. I had to filter water for myself because I wanted to leave Catherine with what we had in case she miraculously woke up on her own.

After filtering water for myself and throwing some snacks in my pack, I knelt down and told Catherine I had to leave her to go get help and that I loved her, but she was still unconscious. Then, at 2:25 a.m., I put on my headlight, grabbed my trekking poles, and started walking. I also had a clear enough mind to know that even though on a good day I might have been able to run out, I needed to pace myself because I knew that I HAD to get out or we didn’t have a chance. At this point, I had been up for almost twenty-four hours.

After nearly forty-five minutes of hard hiking, I began getting light headed and dizzy, to the point that I couldn’t keep walking, so I forced myself to sit down for five minutes to rest. I felt so bad physically that I decided to start alternating walking for fifteen or twenty minutes and resting for five, and to keep that up as long as I could. After I got up and walked maybe fifteen more minutes, I felt even worse than I did before, so I lay down on the trail and allowed myself ten minutes to get it together and get going. At the ten minute mark, I got up and got back to walking. After this point, I kept up the rule of resting briefly every twenty minutes.

The Hermit Trail, as beautiful as it is during the day, is a very rough trail and was especially rough at night by headlamp. At some point during the hike out, I must have missed a switchback. I got off the trail on the side of the canyon on a steep slope with shale everywhere. Once I realized I was no longer on the trail, I made sure I knew where I came from and then began looking around for the trail. It looked like there were cairns everywhere ... but none of them led to the trail. After a number of minutes I began walking up the slope, hoping the trail was above me and eventually got to a point from which I could see the trail. I was elated to find the trail because if I hadn’t been able to find it quickly, I knew I would need to sit there until daylight so I would be more likely to find the trail and less likely to slide off the side of the canyon wall on the shale.

At some points the trail got easier, so I was able to walk for thirty or forty minutes before taking a break. When I finally made it to the old Hermit Trail rest stop, I knew that I would make it. I only had two and a half miles to go. So I refilled my camelback with water and started moving. I was moving at a very good pace at this point because I think my adrenaline must have kicked back in and I knew I was getting close to help.

All along the hike out, I had been praying constantly the simplest prayer: “Lord, help us! You have saved us spiritually, please just save Catherine physically.” I also prayed that I would meet someone on the hike out who could maybe get help quicker than I could, because I was exhausted. Only about fifteen minutes after leaving the old rest shelter, I ran into a married couple and I immediately told them the situation in case they could provide some kind of help. The man replied (and this is a bit of humor in hindsight) “Ok, so I have some bad news and good news. The good news is that I’m a physician, but the bad news is I’m a psychiatrist and haven’t practiced medicine in a long time.” At that point I remember thinking, “Why am I talking to you when I need to get help?!” However, they were incredibly kind and were probably freaked out after hearing the situation. I recall the man suggesting that I could take the electrolyte replacement powder he had and carry it down to her because he thought it would help. I replied that I did not think that I could make it back down at that point I was so exhausted. I knew I could get her help faster by getting to the rim than by hiking back down with some Gatorade powder.

I told them that I needed to keep going to get help and then they asked to pray with me. At that suggestion, I responded with an absolute, “YES.” They offered a very kind prayer to God, asking for His help and then the three of us headed back up the trail to the rim. Not five minutes after we started walking, we met another man, by himself, hiking down with full backpacking gear. I immediately asked him where he was headed and he replied that he was going to Hermit Creek Campsite. I then proceeded to tell him briefly what happened and, in case he got to Catherine before the search and rescue team, to just be with her. I told him she was alive when I left, but didn’t know her condition now.

After leaving this gentleman, the first man I ran into stayed to tell the guy more of the situation while his wife and I headed up the trail. She was walking ahead of me, borderline running and I was right behind her. After a few minutes, she tired and stopped to rest and I kept moving. As exhausted as I was, the Lord allowed me the strength to move fast over the last two miles of trail and I never stopped till I reached the rim.

Once I made it to the rim, I started running and screaming for help. There were several cars around, but I didn’t see a soul. I ran to the two trailers that house park workers there at Hermit’s Rest and began banging on their doors screaming for help. No one came to the door. One of the trailers definitely had someone in there because I could hear loud rock music blaring through the door. No matter how hard I banged on the door or screamed, no one ever came so I kept running up to the shuttle stop, hoping to catch a shuttle for help.

Once I made it to the shuttle stop, I had one bar of service on my cell phone and immediately called 911 for help. The 911 operator finally connected me to the park service at which point they alerted the search and rescue team of the situation. At some point, the operator told me to get on the shuttle and take it back to the main shuttle hub where a ranger would be waiting on me. I was a bit frustrated wondering why I had to do this because I knew the shuttle would take thirty minutes or more to drive the eight miles back to the main hub, but I didn’t have a choice. I alerted the shuttle driver to the situation, he confirmed it with 911, and then I started the ride back to the main shuttle hub. After just a few minutes, the rangers began calling over the shuttle radio looking for me, so the driver turned around and brought me right back to Hermit’s Rest. There were two rangers waiting for me: Joelle Baird and John Kissner. Once I explained the situation to them, Joelle realized it was not a joke, and she called the SAR coordinator to give them more details so the SAR team could be preparing to go to Catherine.

Joelle and John were extraordinarily kind and courteous as we sat together at Hermit’s Rest and the rest of the day as they stayed with me, constantly letting me know what was going on, giving me food and Gatorades, and eventually driving me to Flagstaff Medical Center. They both did an excellent job and I can’t express how appreciative I am to them for talking to me to keep my mind occupied, and keeping me informed throughout the search and rescue process. I’m sure that it was a huge inconvenience for the park to pull two rangers off their normal duties for a day to babysit, but I sure appreciated it.

At some point, I rode with Joelle and John down to the Bright Angel Trail parking area, where my car was parked and where Catherine and I had planned to hike out originally. While we were sitting there, I believe the SAR team got to Catherine, which was sometime between 8:30 and 9:00 a.m. Eventually, Joelle was able to find out Catherine’s condition. I recall her being very vague; basically she just said the team was with her and was treating her. I think at this point I just had to ask, “Is she still alive though?” Joelle then told me that Catherine was still alive, but was in very serious condition. Even though I knew Catherine was in serious condition, I was thankful and tremendously joyful to hear she was still alive and with me (can’t quite put this into words).

We stayed there in the parking lot for a while and then I followed them in my car to one of the ranger offices where I met with another park ranger, Peter Maggio, to explain the ordeal. Mr. Maggio was also incredibly courteous and professional (as every single one of the park rangers was that I met). I explained the situation to Mr. Maggio, so he would have an official account of what happened. I had no problem telling them the story because I knew it was important for them to have that information for their legal records and medical information.

While with Mr. Maggio, occasionally more news would come in on Catherine’s condition, including when they transferred her from the SAR helicopter to a med-flight helicopter to be taken to Flagstaff Medical Center. While sitting in the ranger office, they fed me some more food and Gatorades. After a while, one of the medics came in who had treated Catherine in the helicopter transition, CJ Malcom. I am very thankful to CJ for letting me know how Catherine was doing and finally letting me know that he thought she would make it, even though she was still in very serious condition.

Wondering how I’d gotten help, CJ asked me, “Did you find someone rafting the Colorado River with a satellite phone?” I responded that I had walked out that morning and had to leave her at 2:30 a.m. in order to get help. He and the other rangers that hadn’t heard seemed surprised and said they couldn’t believe I had done that. CJ told me that he didn’t know how I was able to leave her, even though that was the only option and she would have certainly died if I had not left to get help. I responded that even though it was the hardest thing I had ever done and hopefully will ever have to do, the comfort I had in leaving her was that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Catherine did die, she would be going home to God in heaven. I explained that Catherine and I are Christians, and not just because of the incident, and I knew God would be faithful, one way or another.

After speaking with Joelle and John, they convinced me to accept their kind offer and drove me to the hospital in Flagstaff. Joelle drove me in the rental and John followed. We arrived at the hospital around 1:00 or 1:30, where I was taken to Catherine in the ER. She was hooked up to an IV and semiconscious. Nothing could express how grateful I was to see her alive. She had a hard time answering the questions posed by Michelle, her ER nurse. Catherine thought for a while that it was 2012, but after some prompting she arrived at 2014. She did, however, remember who the president was and who I was. Every few hours they took her blood to check her sodium and CK levels. Throughout the afternoon, doctors were in and out checking on her and she would only stay awake for very short periods of time.

Catherine was in a lot of pain throughout the day because of her mangled tongue. By 7:30 or 8:00 that evening, they took us to a room in the ICU and were fairly confident that we would be released in the next day or two. She was not critical at this point, as her sodium levels had stabilized, but the doctors in the other part of the hospital did not feel comfortable treating her, so she remained in the ICU.

Finally, by about 9:00 that night, after the nurses had assured me she was stable and I was through delivering the news to the family and close friends, I lay down in a fold out bed beside Catherine and the dam broke. All that I had held together came tumbling apart as my wife slept a few feet away. A little while later, after being awake for more than forty tumultuous hours, I, too, was finally able to sleep.

After the blood test in the middle of the night, Craig, the ICU nurse, came in to tell us her CK (or CPK) numbers had made a significant jump. For the next several days, the doctors continued to monitor her blood, checking the CK levels more and more frequently as the numbers continued to climb. Normal is 140, but her number peaked at 30,000 early Tuesday morning. Dr. Murphy came in and admitted to us that he was not expecting her number to get that high. The number was certainly high enough to be of concern, but Dr. Murphy assured us that Catherine’s muscles felt supple, which was the biggest indication of how she was faring. If her muscles had become firm, that’s when we would have had reason to be worried. Rhabdomyolysis (associated with high CK numbers) can cause kidney damage, muscle damage, and compartment syndrome which sometimes can result in a fasciotomy. Thankfully, Catherine never reached that point, even with her high CK level.

Originally, Catherine’s parents decided not to fly out because we thought she would be released from the hospital quickly. Once her CK numbers started to cause concern, her parents booked a flight and were out there by late Sunday evening. Even though I wanted to be with Catherine in the hospital, I was incredibly relieved to be able to trade with her mom and get a good night’s sleep in the hotel they had booked. Just having her parents out there with us was a comfort to me, as was the continued stream of encouraging prayers and texts from our church family and friends back home. I knew without a doubt that many people were lifting Catherine and myself up in continued prayer the entire time we were in the hospital.

To our great relief, her CK number began to fall by her second blood test on Tuesday. The doctors had told us that she could not be released until her CK level had fallen to at least 5,000, which was a long way to go from 30,000. The number had gone down once before, by only a thousand or so, and then gone back up to reach its final peak, so we were not entirely comfortable until we saw the number start to plummet. At that point, each time her blood was taken, the CK number nearly halved.

On Tuesday afternoon, we had a great surprise: Emily Pearce, Catherine’s EMT in the canyon, along with her doctor colleague, came to talk to us. As soon as she stepped in the room, I knew who she was, and I was overcome with a wave of emotion at seeing my wife’s rescuer. She said she was glad she could find us, as we had moved out of the ICU by this point to the regular part of the hospital. She said that Catherine had been able to give her correct name while in the canyon and that was the only way she was able to find our room.

Emily wanted to hear the events that led up to Catherine developing hyponatremia, so I told my part of the story. Afterwards, she picked up with her part of the story, which began with the helicopter arriving at Hermit Creek. She admitted that she knew it was serious when they flew over Catherine in the helicopter and she didn’t move at all. In their profession, they are extremely safety conscious and are always supposed to wait until the helicopter blades stop moving before exiting the aircraft. This time, as soon as the chopper touched down, her and her team leapt out and ran down to where Catherine was lying by the creek. They knew it was a bad situation and didn’t want to waste any time.

They took her blood and confirmed that she had hyponatremia. Her sodium was dangerously low at 118. Immediately, they hooked her up to a hydrasaline IV and pumped in 300 ml. That revived her enough that she said a few words, including her name. The rescue team treated Catherine in the canyon for about forty-five minutes. The team didn’t feel comfortable carrying her back up the trail I’d carried her down, so they placed her on a flatboard with an EMT beside her and hauled her out of the canyon hanging from a rope under the helicopter. All Catherine remembers from the rescue is one mental image of a helicopter in the sky above her with a long, curved cable tracing a line down to her.

To hear Emily’s portion of what happened to Catherine was chilling, although I’m glad she shared it. According to Emily, Catherine had a number of seizures during the six or so hours that she was alone. Vomit was scattered around her on the rock where she lay and more blood had leaked out onto her face. She confirmed what I had feared: if I had not gone for help when I did, Catherine would have died. Even though I knew I had to leave her in the canyon to get help, it was a relief to hear from Catherine’s rescuer that I had made the right decision, considering it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

On Wednesday morning, the doctor decided to release us from the hospital because Catherine’s CK number had continued to drop and was at 9000. They were confident since it had dropped from 30,000 down to 9,000, it would continue to decrease until back to normal. Even as tired and weak as Catherine still was, she was excited to be getting out of the hospital. Patsy, Steve, and I were too. It was an incredible relief to know that she was going to be fine and should (Lord willing) continue to heal and be back to normal in the weeks ahead. Once out of the hospital, we killed some time in Flagstaff until Thursday afternoon, at which point Catherine and I drove to Las Vegas to catch out flight home Friday morning. We were finally headed home!

In light of the event, I found myself responding to certain scriptures with a new perspective. Not only do the two scriptures I prayed continuously while in the canyon have a profound importance to me, verses such as James 1:2-4 and James 4:13-16 have become part of my life experience as opposed to a line in the Bible that I look to as a good example. “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and let that endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” Despite my confusion, helplessness, and utter sadness at what was happening to Catherine, I truly did feel a sense of peace, which I can consider a type of joy in the midst of that situation. Peace at knowing where my wife would spend eternity is what enabled me to leave her, to go get help. And joy isn’t always a happy experience, the way the world defines it. I felt this kind of joy in the midst of that trial.

James 4:14-16 admonishes, “You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.’” How true it is that we are but a vapor. I saw how quickly someone who was in great physical condition, healthy, and young could slip dangerously close to death in a matter of hours. We are not guaranteed tomorrow, and this experience really drove that point home for me. If the Lord wills, I will see tomorrow.

As Catherine began to return to her faculties mentally while in the hospital, we discussed how this experience could be used for God’s glory, since we both agreed that was the whole purpose for having gone through it. Catherine understood that the only reason she was granted healing was because there must be some way in which she can glorify the Lord while still on earth. Telling our story is one of those ways. I told her that while hiking out of the canyon, thinking that she might never wake up, I considered what burdens she would be leaving behind that I could see to. The first thing that came to my mind was sharing the gospel with those we’d had concerns about, including members of our families and some of our friends. We have since had many of these discussions, knowing that putting off difficult or awkward conversations is no longer an option, since later may never come, for them or for us. It is our prayer that God would use this story in our lives to glorify Himself and, if He wills, bring someone unto salvation.

In addition, this story has proved to be a way in which we can live out 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 which says, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of all mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” The Lord certainly sustained me — and Catherine, at least physically — during this trial, and I hope to be able to share that with others in the hope of providing comfort to those who are suffering.

I can honestly say that I feel blessed to have gone through this experience for many reasons. First of all, for the conversations we have had with friends and family. Secondly, for the way in which the Lord has already allowed this story to provide comfort and encouragement to many. Furthermore, I feel a nearness to Christ that I did not know before and a deeper understanding of just how fragile we are, which has affected my outlook on many things. And lastly, I feel an unquenchable, unspeakable joy at the way He chose to answer my prayers, though I know fully it was not something I deserved. The Lord is faithful, and I must trust Him, for our lives are in His hands.

Disasters like what happened in Japan in 2011 often bring out the most reckless forms of theologizing. The earthquake and tsunami are indeed horrifying reminders that this world shows all the marks of God’s judgment on sin, and that the whole creation groans under the weight of sin.

Nevertheless, Jesus warned his disciples about drawing the conclusion that a natural disaster can be traced to the sins of those who directly suffer its effects (Luke 13:1-5). God causes the rain to fall on both the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45). We must remember that when we read the headlines and see the images of a disaster wherever it may happen.

In 1755, a great earthquake devastated Lisbon, Portugal, causing great loss of life throughout the Iberian Peninsula. This tragedy caused many Europeans, recently shaken by the secularism of the early Enlightenment, to abandon their belief in God. This just compounds the tragedy. We must affirm both the sovereign power and the loving character of God, and that means that we must know that disasters like this will test both our faith and our faithfulness.

Read Jeremiah 31:10-17

A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children. -- Jeremiah 31:15 (NRSV)

After a seminar at an inner city church, I met a ten-year-old boy. "What's your name?" I asked him.

"Matthew," he replied.

"Do you know what your name means?" He shook his head. "It means 'gift of God.' Go home and tell your mother that you are a gift of God."

"I can't do that, sir, because my mother is dead. She was shot a year ago. I saw the man shoot her."

I told him how sorry I was and said I would pray for him. But I cannot forget the deep sadness in his face. He seemed numb, as if his mother's death was just the way of things. There was nothing he could do. I thought of Jeremiah, watching his people march into exile and imagining that he could hear Rachel weeping for her suffering children.

I realized that I am called to weep for the children and join with those who care about them. Together, we can reach out to the young "gifts of God" like Matthew and comfort them in their loss and sadness.

PRAYER: God of compassion, you weep for your children. Help us to see their sadness and to let them know that they are your gifts to us. Amen.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY

How can we comfort the children who have been wounded?

Bass Mitchell (Virginia)

PRAYER FOCUS: Children who have witnessed violence

The Lisbon earthquake of 1755 changed everything. In minutes, this thriving, affluent city was brought to its knees. Roughly 50,000 people died. The sky turned black. Fires raged. Then tidal waves washed over the port, drowning hundreds more.

Later, Voltaire wrote a poem challenging the prevailing view that this was a divine act of judgment. “Whilst you these facts replete with horror view, will you maintain death to their crimes was due?” he penned, adding, “Can you then impute a sinful deed, to babes who on their mother’s bosoms feed?”

Voltaire did not challenge the existence of God. He simply asked what kind of deity would create a world with such design flaws. It’s a question other thinkers of his day dared to ask as well -- a question taken up by today’s ardent atheists and carried to the extreme conclusion that God does not exist.

The earthquake and tsunami that devastated Southeast Asia in 2004 and similar disasters that struck Haiti in 2010 and Japan in 2011 are more recent examples of what may be described as natural evil. While many atheists concede that moral evil exists in the world, the idea of natural evil seems to prove either that God does not exist or, if He does, He is not a compassionate all-powerful God worthy of worship.

Not so fast.

Plate tectonics

It is only in the last century that modern science has discovered the cause of earthquakes: plate tectonics, or the movement of giant masses of rock beneath the surface of the earth and the ocean floor.

As these colossal plates move and bump into each other, they sometimes rupture the surface of the earth, causing earthquakes. When these collisions take place beneath the ocean floor, the result is seaquakes followed by tsunamis.

In their book “Rare Earth,” Peter Ward and Donald Brownlee observe that Earth “is still the only planet we know that has plate tectonics.” They further show that plate tectonics is a “central requirement for life on a planet.” It’s also largely responsible for differences in land elevation that separate the land from the seas.

But there’s more. Plate tectonics recirculates carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, and without carbon dioxide we would not have life.

Dinesh D’Souza writes in “What’s So Great About God?”: “The whole tectonic system serves as a kind of ‘planetary thermostat,’ helping to regulate the earth’s climate and preventing the onset of scorching or freezing temperatures that would make mammalian life, and possibly all life, impossible.”

Plate tectonics also aids the formation of minerals deep in the earth and their availability near the surface.

Finally, the tectonics system contributes to the earth’s magnetic field, without which earth’s inhabitants would be exposed to cosmic radiation.

So, in a sense, we owe our existence to plate tectonics and the earthquakes it produces. Of course, earthquakes often cause great destruction and claim the lives of many people. These are real tragedies that must not be minimized.

Creation’s labor pains

However, to make the leap from tragic consequences of natural disasters to accusations that God is aloof, petulant or non-existent fails on numerous counts. People die of heatstroke and skin cancer but that doesn’t make the sun -- or its Creator -- our enemy. Fires often devastate property and take innocent lives, but without fire many technological advances such as smelting, metals would not be possible.

In addition, floods and hurricanes cause tragic death and destruction, but these natural disasters would be impossible without water, without which no living creature could survive.

The point here for Christians is not to concede the atheist’s viewpoint, or to admit that God is fallible simply because natural disasters occur with great force and frequency.

It’s true that something is wrong with the created order -- and this has been the case ever since the man’s fall in the Garden of Eden. The apostle Paul writes that “the whole creation has been groaning together with labor pains until now” (Romans 8:22).

But it’s also assuring to know that God works through our unbalanced world -- and its tragic outbursts -- to protect and preserve life. He may choose to use nature as an instrument of judgment, as with the sons of Korah (Numbers 16:32). But mostly He works through the sinful and fallen world in which we live to keep it in check for our benefit.

________

Rob Phillips is director of communications for the Missouri Baptist Convention

My worship was radically changed on Sunday morning, July 28, 2002, in Denver, Colorado. It had never been more difficult for me to take my usual pastor’s wife place at Riverside Baptist Church -- only I was no longer the pastor’s wife and my husband was no longer the pastor.

Three days earlier Rick and I were involved in a tragic car accident. And I was now a 45-year-old widow.

The service that morning ushered me into a strange season of worship -- a season of worshiping in the dark. Things that once were clear now seemed veiled in darkness.

I was limping badly and my face was heavily bruised from the injuries I sustained in the accident. My faith was in a similar condition.

Stunned faces filled the auditorium. The loving, caring eyes of our church family were on me as I found my seat. I felt their embrace from afar.

Worship began. The screens prompted the words, “God is good,” yet my heart was far from believing those words. In that moment I made a huge discovery -- His goodness, that had once been clear, was now hard to see in the dark. Good circumstances prop up our faith, prop up our worship. But my circumstances were devastating and had dismantled my world.

Worship even seemed inappropriate.

Has life created crisis in your worship? Do the words on the screens belie the scenes in your life?

The verse “we walk by faith and not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7) had never been so challenging. “Sight” was keeping my heart from worship and yet faith was demanding it.

On that day I began the struggle of reconciling my theology to the landscape of my life in which God was acting unpredictably. As author Larry Crabb has aptly stated, “One may not conclude that God is good by studying life....” I was definitely studying life -- my life -- and my heart was making painful conclusions.

Yet, although circumstances had changed, God had not. The screens were right, “God is good.” I had to strap myself to the truths of the Word, since my heart had become unreliable.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,” we read in Psalm 46. “Therefore we will not fear, even though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though its waters roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with its swelling” (verses 1-3, NKJ)

God is unchanging. Even in the dark, where His ways are mysterious, baffling and painful, the unpredictable turns do not suggest His character or His nature have diminished.

My eyes and heart adjusted to the dark. My faith did also. Worshiping in the dark has become my most sacred moment. The inescapable process of “being tested by fire” (1 Peter 1:7) produces inexplicable joy. It is as precious gold.

My friend, when your faith adjusts to your dark place, you will find that He is still the God you knew in the light.