Altar Call – Opelika-Auburn News
August 28, 2011
A voice like thunder brought peace to my soul
Life is filled with abrupt changes. Boredom is not a permanent condition. The humdrum can be swiftly overturned by the unexpected. For months we wondered if the suffering of our young son would ever end. It did one day in May.
We buried our boy. I lost my job. Two weeks later we moved from Tennessee back to Alabama. Like so many Alabama summers the heat made us seek refuge in the coolness of the mountains. We made our way to Lake Junaluska, North Carolina, a favorite Methodist vacation site. The popular evangelist Billy Graham was preaching that week.
Though our hearts were broken over the death of our son we had not lost our faith. But it had, honestly, been wounded. Hopefully the preaching of Graham would comfort us in our grief. Our young souls needed a time of healing.
Graham was as stirring as we had expected. The huge auditorium was packed morning and night as hundreds of people flocked to hear him. We stood in a long line one day and finally got to shake his hand. Like others we were awed by Graham’s persuasive preaching.
Graham shared the pulpit with another preacher, W. E. Sangster from
Every word he spoke had the ring of truth about it. It was as if God was speaking directly to me and answering questions I had not even asked. Never had I been more convinced that God himself was speaking to me. And I listened intently, eager to drink in what sounded to me like eternal truth.
I had many questions. Why had God, if he is love, allowed our son to die? Why had he not healed him in answer to our prayers? Why should a little child have to suffer when he had done no wrong? Why had God given him to us if he was going to take him from us before he could grow up? Was his death punishment for my own sins? Is God really “out there” and if he is, why doesn’t he say something when I beg him for help? Why won’t he tell me why the innocent must suffer?
Finally God did reply. He was silent when David was suffering. Now, two months after our son’s burial, God spoke. He spoke through Sangster. How do I know? I know. I was there. Though it happened 55 years ago, I remember it like it was yesterday. God answered me through the voice of his servant, W. E. Sangster.
At first I felt pity for Sangster. He would be no match for Billy Graham as a presence in the pulpit. But I was wrong. Sangster was older and wiser than Graham. And though his style was quite different, the man could preach. As the week went on, many of us realized we were listening to two of the world’s greatest preachers.
What did I hear from God? Not what I wanted to hear, believe me. I wanted something soothing; what I got was shocking.
Sangster said, “You must stop dealing with your problems. You must deal with God! You get nowhere by grappling with cancer or some tragedy. You must wrestle with God for God is the sovereign God of the universe and he allows whatever happens to you. He does not will evil but he allows it. The world is not out of control; God is in control and he allows bad things to happen.”
He went on to insist that God has a purpose in allowing tragedy even though we may never understand why he allows it. We can find peace only by accepting God’s sovereignty in our lives and believing that in all things he is always working for our good. God is not accountable to us for his actions; on the contrary, we are accountable to God for our actions and reactions. And God loves us even when he allows bad things to happen in our lives.
As much as I was able I surrendered my stubborn, agnostic questioning to God that week. I began to rethink our son’s death in a new way, a way that helped me see suffering in a new light. Slowly I tried to embrace the message God gave me through an English preacher I would never hear again. After 55 years I am still embracing his message for it is strong medicine.
A few years
later word came from
Since that memorable summer I have journeyed to Lake Junaluska many times, heard many inspiring speakers, and enjoyed the beauty of those North Carolina hills. But seldom have I been as deeply moved by the words of a preacher.
On a clear day I can close my eyes and still hear the thundering voice of Sangster reverberating within the walls of Stuart Auditorium bringing peace to my troubled soul. God spoke through the voice of a man and I heard him. I have never been the same. + + +