From tragedy to triumph: contemporary stories

(topical)

Last week we saw how Job, Elijah and Jonah all experienced serious tragedy, and all three thought themselves insignificant failures. Job’s was especially physical; we might say that Elijah’s suffering was emotional; and the heart of Jonah’s problems seems to have been spiritual.

Let me tell three parallel modern stories.

Runner’s World (August 1991) told the story of Beth Anne DeCiantis’ attempt to qualify for the 1992 Olympic Trials marathon. A female runner must complete the 26-mile, 385-yard race in less than two hours, 45 minutes to compete at the Olympic Trials.

Beth started strong but began having trouble around mile 23. She reached the final straightaway at 2:43, with just two minutes left to qualify. Two hundred yards from the finish, she stumbled and fell. Dazed, she stayed down for twenty seconds. The crowd yelled, “Get up! ” The clock was ticking – 2:44, less than a minute to go.

Beth Anne staggered to her feet and began walking. Five yards short of the finish, with ten seconds to go, she fell again. She began to crawl, the crowd cheering her on, and crossed the finish line on her hands and knees. Her time? Two hours, 44 minutes, 57 seconds.

Hebrews 12:1 reminds us to run our race with perseverance and never give up.

The hot water bottle

English medical missionary to Zaire, Helen Roseveare, tells this story of human tragedy and spiritual triumph:

One night I worked hard to help a mother in the labour ward. In spite of all we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying, two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive. We had no incubator.

Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. A student-midwife went for the box we had for such babies and for the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle, only to find the bottle perished. It was their last hot water bottle.

“Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can,” I said. “Sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts, and keep the baby warm.”

The following noon I went to pray with the orphanage children. I told them about the tiny baby, mentioning the hot water bottle and the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed, “Please, God, send us a water bottle this afternoon. It’ll be no good tomorrow, God, the baby will be dead. And would you please send a dolly for the little girl so she’ll know you really love her?”

I just did not believe that God could do this. The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending a parcel from home. I had been in Africa for almost four years, and I had never received a parcel from home. And if anyone did send a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle?

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses’ training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the verandah was a large twenty-two pound parcel!

I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone; so, I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.

From the top, I lifted out brightly coloured, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then, there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children began to look a little bored. Next, came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas. As I put my hand in again, I felt it.

Yes, a brand-new rubber, hot water bottle! I cried. I had not asked God to send it. I had not truly believed that he could. Ruth rushed forward, crying out, “If God has sent the bottle, he must have sent the dolly, too!” Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone: she had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, “Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she’ll know that Jesus really loves her?”

That parcel had been on the way for five months, packed up by my former Sunday School class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God’s prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator, and one girls had put in a dolly for an African child.

Helen Roseveare’s story demonstrates something of the power of God’s love and grace in our fallen and fragile world. He does not always do what we expect, or work according to our demands – but he does meet our needs, and he holds each of us in the palm of his hand.

The miracle of the cats

One final story. Another friend of mine was sharing her faith with a friend, who said abruptly, “Do you believe in God?” “Yes,” replied my friend.

“I want to pray – how do you pray?” she asked. My friend said that speaking to God was like talking to someone beside you. And her companion spoke her first prayer to God: “OK, mate in the sky,” she said, “if you exist, send me three white cats.”

My friend thought this a rather bizarre request, but left it like that, and they parted. That night, a white cat jumped over this woman’s garden wall into her lap. She was so surprised that she thought, “No, it must be a coincidence,” and prayed for another white cat. No one nearby owned the cat.

The next day she was driving through a nearby suburb when she saw a white cat on the footpath. She stopped and it put up its front paws to be picked up. When she enquired at adjacent houses and discovered that no one here owned a white cat, she became more concerned, but prayed once more for a white cat.

When she arrived home, there was a third white cat on the doorstep. She welcomed God into her life, and became a Christian. Her husband later did the same, and he is now training for Christian ministry.

And why did she ask God to send a white cat? In her earlier life she had been exposed to ritual occult worship where cats were sacrificed. This was her way of seeking forgiveness and affirmation from God: a pure, lavish and seemingly impossible answer to her prayer. From tragedy to triumph.

You have heard six stories of human tragedy turned to triumph by the grace and power of God. The ultimate tragedy – the cross – also turned to triumph by the grace and power of God. Jesus died for us, but also rose for us. Jesus died on the cross and emerged from the empty tomb to fill our empty hearts, and turn our tragedy into triumph. He can turn your tragedy to triumph. That’s the message of Easter.

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E124 Copyright (c) 2003 Rod Benson. Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible: New International Version (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1980). To talk with Rod about this message, email or write to P.O. Box 1790, MACQUARIE CENTRE 2113 AUSTRALIA. To subscribe, email with “subscribe” in the subject. To unsubscribe, type “unsubscribe” in the subject.

The first story above has replaced the original story I told to preserve confidentiality.

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