BY MELINDA SWANSON

Do you ever wonder where God is, or where He has gone, or frankly, if He is even here?

I do. Let me give you the bleak outlook that I could take on my life since the middle of February. We were in the midst of life in general: school activities, jobs, life, family, friends. And then my father-in-law fell, breaking seven ribs.

On March 2nd, he passed away. I could tell you all the details of being with a grieving family for a week, but we’ve all been there.

I came back to work for one week, then the entire world shut down. One daughter called me crying. Important things to her had come to a halt. A play she had practiced, an engineering competition. Another daughter mentally shut down. The concert she had been preparing for since September was cancelled.

The world and especially our country came to a screeching halt. People began to panic. What is this bug, and what if we die?

Some of us did crazy things, like take in neighbor children and babysit them. Others took more drastic measures. Suicide rates and domestic violence climbed to alarming rates in many areas, including Barberton.

We, as a family, learned more about technology preparing for online church services then we ever thought we would learn. Some services went well. Others, not so well. There was always behind-the-scenes stuff that we will get brave enough to make a “Bloopers” video about for your entertainment at some time in the future.

Do you wonder in all of this, where God was, where He is now?

On March 2nd, May 10th and June 10th I lost three very dear people, none of them due to this crazy virus floating around. All of them meant the world to me, especially my sister of the heart who took in my kids like her own. We loved each other like family – even though they are Jewish, and we are Christians.

Did I wonder where God was during this time? I knew He was up in His heaven but why wasn’t He fixing things down here?

Our economy is going crazy. People losing jobs. Small businesses struggling to survive. Riots in the streets. Double standards for what we should and should not do. I am not telling you anything you haven’t heard or seen.

I could continue with what might appear to be my woeful and bleak life from March until now. How the girl I was babysitting brought a monster into our house. My daughter is still fighting the repercussions. How my oldest daughter had that one thing, All-Ohio-State-Fair-Band, cancelled. She misses her friends like crazy because in the world of music, music friends have a bond like no other.

I could tell you how I laid awake at night worrying about the kids I saw every day. How I convinced them to take their ear buds out and say hello and even begin to smile. How I worried about them being home alone with nowhere to go for the past several months, how they eat, how they fare because I KNOW many of them are the victims of abuse in their homes. I could tell you all of this and more (and I already have) but I have something better to remind all of us of today.

Through all of this, our story is being written. We already have a magnificent story to tell the world. We don’t have to sit around waiting for God to be here. We don’t have to sit around waiting and wondering when He’s coming back. Our stories have been, and still are, being written to tell.

I choose to tell the amazing stories. I choose to tell the story of my father-in-law and the amazing life he led, the people he influenced, including me. I choose to tell of how he died when all of us could still gather and celebrate his life. One week later, that would not have happened.

I choose to tell the story of forgiveness and redemption that I am currently seeing with my neighbor girl. I choose to see that God is working a miracle in her life now, while Satan meant for evil to divide us and her family. I choose to watch with amazing pride and love as my daughter extends the olive branch of forgiveness to the girl that brought the monster into our home even as my daughter processes her own PTSD from this evil.

I choose to see the gifts given from dear Melissa. I choose to see the wisdom that I can pass on to others because of how I saw my dearest sister of my heart walk through cancer. I choose to teach my children that it is ok to be frightened. It is ok to live life to its fullest. It is ok to die because we KNOW what is on the other side. I choose to teach my children to be confident in their salvation and to live out their faith.

I choose to see beyond the frustrations of technology as every Saturday night we record and edit and export and import and download and upload. I choose to see the numbers of people that watch the online services. I choose to see the texts, the emails, the cards, the thank-you notes from around the country. I choose to believe that somewhere, at some point, all of this has touched a heart that I cannot even know. I choose to believe that God has broken through our four walls of the Church, not just First Lutheran, and is using technology for such a time as this.

One of the things that I have done through all of this is to come to our church and clean from room to room. It is my way to escape my own four walls. I have learned much about the history of this church and the love and care that has been here for generations. I choose to see this church, while small now, is still mighty in the power of God. I choose to see that we are still a great presence in Barberton.

When I and a fellow worker were painting arrows on the floor at the middle school last week, we talked about everything during the monotonous marking, taping, and painting. She asked what my husband does. I told her that he is a pastor. She naturally asked the next question, “Where?” I told her, “First Lutheran, by the Y.” “Oh yes,” she says. “I know that church.”

Ladies, God is still here. We all have our stories to tell from March until now. But the story that should come out of all of this is how God is working, how God is here. Last night, my room to clean was the Bridal room downstairs. As I cleaned through the room, I was remembering how passionate another lady in our church was about turning that room into a small chapel where one could go and not be overwhelmed by the magnitude of the sanctuary. And I tell you the truth. The presence of the Lord is there. The song that hit my heart as I cleaned was an old powerful chorus … “Surely, the presence of the Lord is in this place.”

Surely, the presence of the Lord is in this place. Don’t be afraid to tell your story and look for the presence of the Lord. Don’t be afraid to wonder where God is, because we all have been there at some time in our lives. But better yet, don’t be surprised when He shows up in the most powerful ways. This is the story you still get to tell the world. Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place!

Melinda Swanson is married to Erik Swanson, pastor of First Lutheran Church in Barberton, OH. She is a graduate of Milligan College with a B.S.N. and is a pastor’s wife of seventeen years. Melinda and Erik have four children.

As iron sharpens iron, so a person sharpens his friends — Solomon

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