A Picture of Faith

I really should be going to bed as I have seven phone interviews starting at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. But I wanted to tell you a quick story first.

So we led worship tonight for a student purity rally. It was all pretty normal. Got to the venue, set up and sound checked, ate way too much food, led worship, heard the ole' "Yes oral sex is going too far" sermon, and then met students in the lobby afterwards.

I was prepared to leave in record time (30 minutes) and get home so I could eat a second dinner (tacos from Taco Bueno) and watch American Idol when I was approached by a lady with tears running down her face.

Today is her daughter's 19th birthday, but she could not be at the show because she is in a nursing home. She suffers from a rare genetic disease and over the course of time has lost all ability to eat, think, and communicate. This year is her first birthday ever in a nursing home. But you could see it in her broken eyes, this mom loves her baby and wanted her to have a special birthday. What an amazing mom. A strong woman.

She got halfway home and decided to turn around, come back to the venue, and just see if there was anyway we would go to the nursing home with her to sing to her daughter. "I know she can hear it, she loves music, I know she can feel God through it, please come sing to her, I will pay you." And with tears rolling down my face, I of course refused the money, and we packed up and went to the nursing home.

What happened next was just beautiful. Pam rolled Katherine into the social hall and I held her hand and talked to her. The guys greeted her too which was pretty precious. And then we started to sing Holy is the Lord. One guitar. All of the boys singing. Me on the floor looking into her eyes and holding her hand and singing about a Holy God.

Between taking pictures her mom stood there, hands raised in the air, tears streaming down her tired face, and told God that he was Holy.

I am not sure if Katherine heard us or understood anything, though I prayed God would fill her childlike mind with whatever peace and love she could understand; but that was not the point.

The point was watching a beautiful woman who has had to put her baby in a nursing home, who has spent 19 years struggling, working, and persevering through a hell of a life, and at the end of the day she still raised her hands to our Savior and praised His name.

Suddenly my TV show seemed pretty insignificant and the world came into focus. My heart was full of a strange joy and awe. God seemed very present tonight at the nursing home. And I was reminded, yet again, of what faith looks like.

It looks like a mother named Pam who drove back to the church, fighting her tears, just to see if we would come play for her baby. A mother who has not given up on God in the midst of such suffering, but has drawn near to Him and still praises his name. A mother who has poured into, taken care of, and loved a child that could never give her anything in return.

And tonight, that is what faith looks like. That is what Jesus looks like.