Walking as Children of Light: A Devotional

By Carol A. Gibson

A woman, age twenty-two, with two small children and married only five years, sits watching a campfire when she suddenly becomes aware that she is no longer married. Another time, she is out to dinner with a friend, only to be urgently sent home to save her dying son.

She walks along a beautifully landscaped boulevard, notices a church with stained-glass windows, and finds God speaking to her. Her daughter is away at college when a dream warns her she is going to lose her to a horrific accident.

One minute she is folding clothes beside her bed and the next watching Jesus observing the whole Earth. Working in nursing, she gets a heads-up about a difficult night, and another time, some creative help with a sewing problem, as well as deliverance from an addiction that was going to end in her suicide.

These things happened. I know, because I am that woman.

The Bible tells us to tell others what wonderful things God has done for us: Publish his glorious deeds among the nations. Tell everyone about the amazing things He does (Psalm 96:3).
I have learned many things since being that twenty-two-year-old at the campfire, but most of all I have learned that God is love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449770594

Carol A. Gibson

Ms. Gibson began writing church bulletin inserts that touched hearts and minds thirty years ago. She is a graduate of the Christian Writer's Guild's Apprentice Program under the mentorship of Sandra Byrd, author of the popular Ladies in Waiting series. She has work in Chicken Soup for the Soul and Parables for Today editions and stories in the Downey Christian School System's Project Reading textbooks.

Book preview

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1

Is He Not Your Father?

I labored long into the night and early morning hours with my first child. She seemed determined to stay in her position of comfort.

Eventually, my doctor came to my bedside and said, I have turned this baby numerous times, and every time I do that, it moves right back into a breech position. I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to change that. This is going to be a difficult birth. I want you to be prepared.

The small hospital where I was had no staffed operating room during the night. I am glad I didn’t know then what type of serious injuries the baby might have suffered by being born breech since a C-section delivery was out of the question.

Finally, after what seemed to me an impossible struggle, she arrived, weighing almost eight pounds. She immediately began breathing on her own without so much as a wail. After a brief introduction to me, the staff whisked her off to the nursery and me to my room.

There in the stillness, unable to sleep, I relived the night that had just passed. The nurse, finding me awake, brought me her birth certificate. I named her Kim.

Eventually, a baby wailed in the distance. I had not heard her voice until then, but I knew her. Not just anybody’s baby was crying—my baby was crying. I tried to go to her but almost fainted instead. I rang for the nurse. It seemed like forever until she arrived.

Is that my baby crying? I asked her.

Yes, she explained. I’m afraid she didn’t like her first bath.

Can you bring her to me? I pressed. I felt a need to soothe her. Before long, I was holding her in my arms, whispering her name to her while staring into her lovely face, which was now quiet and at peace.

It occurred to me that this was a picture of God the Father. He knows us. He hears our cries and comes to soothe us.

There may be a situation in your life right now that is new or overwhelming to you, something you have not had to deal with before. God will hear your cry and come to comfort you. Just as I knew my daughter’s voice, God knows yours, and He knows exactly how to soothe you. Call to Him.

Is He not your Father, your Creator, who made you and formed you? (Deuteronomy 32:6b. NIV.)

As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted. (Isaiah 66:13. NIV.)

Prayer: Father, in our helplessness, we call to you and rejoice in the knowledge that you are moved by love to soothe us.

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2

A Very Present Help

As I hung up the phone, I realized the house was far too quiet. Where’s Kim? I wondered.

Maybe she had gotten into something she shouldn’t have. Children often grow very quiet when they are fascinated by something, I reasoned, and two-and-one-half-year-old Kim could certainly find fascinating things. I hoped it was something safe.

I ran through the house quickly, searching every room while calling her name. There was no response. Certainly she had to be in the house somewhere. She had to be. But she wasn’t. After I had searched all four floors a second time, I had to concede she must be outside.

Now I was afraid. We lived on a busy street corner in the city. I dashed outside, my heart pounding as I tried to look everywhere at once. A cold fear gripped me that I was going to suddenly hear the sickening sound of screeching car brakes.

I didn’t see her in any of the four directions I looked. Maybe she had wandered into one of the many fenced yards on the block, a gate swinging closed behind her, and she couldn’t get out. What if there were garden chemicals sitting around in such a yard? What if she didn’t understand they were dangerous? What if she got into them? A hundred fearful questions raced through my mind. Was she afraid? I was afraid! In fact, I was in a panic. She was the most important thing in my world, and she was gone. How would I even begin to tell my husband?

I raced around the entire block, looking rapidly in every yard for her, finally arriving back at our house on the corner, still not having found her. Not knowing where else to look, this nightmare had become too big for me. A terrible despair gripped me.

Standing alone on the street corner, I broke down and cried. I called on God like countless others have in times of deep distress. God, Kim is lost! Please help me find her. I couldn’t bear it if something awful happened to her!

Then I heard a woman’s voice. She was talking the way one talks to little children. She said, Is this your house? Do you live here?

I turned and looked up quickly. There, along the tree-lined sidewalk across the street, walked a woman pushing a stroller. And walking beside her, holding onto the stroller, was Kim. She was safe! My relief was immense because I knew very well what the outcome could have easily been.

The woman told me she was out walking her baby when she had come upon Kim standing in the middle of an intersection. She took Kim’s hand and began walking, hoping one of the houses would generate some recognition in Kim. She thought it was amazing Kim had crossed so many streets and then stood in the middle of one without being injured. But why had the woman chosen my direction out of four in which to walk?

You never know what a day will bring. On that day, I learned that although our lives may indeed have busy, dangerous intersections in them, we have access to a help that is swifter and far greater than any danger we find ourselves faced with. Our Father invites us to ask Him at the start of each day to deliver us from evil. This is a picture of how He does just that. Have you placed your loved ones under His care today?

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble." (Psalm 46:1. NIV.) Emphasis mine.

Prayer: Father, your Word says you give your angels charge over us. Help us to notice the times we may have been afforded their protection, although we were unaware they were angels at the time.

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3

I Will Be with You Wherever You Go

It was a dark nine o’clock in the woods as I silently watched the flames of our campfire leap and dance. Suddenly, I became aware of an absolute stillness in my soul and then came the certain realization I was no longer married.

What was that all about? I thought. Not married? Of course I’m married! After all, Jack was at our home in Pennsylvania. I’d been with him just the day before, when our children and I had left to come camping in New York State with my parents.

But I couldn’t shake this feeling. It wasn’t that I wondered if I was no longer married; I had an unshakeable knowing that I was no longer married, but it didn’t make any sense. Just then, my daughter cried out in her sleep. I went to soothe her, thinking that perhaps the unfamiliar surroundings had frightened her.

Climbing into bed with her, I held her until she went back to sleep. I had the feeling that somehow, right then, I needed her as much as she needed me. Eventually, my dad put out the fire, and he and Mom came to bed.

I lay in the darkness of the camp, unable to sleep. I sensed a change of some sort was occurring. For a long time, I watched the moon make its way across the midnight-blue sky. Suddenly, car headlights circled the drive in the campgrounds. I wasn’t surprised when it stopped in front of our camper; something told me the driver was looking for me.

A strong knock came on the camper door. Opening the door, my father stepped out into the darkness, and I heard a muted conversation between him and another man. After a few moments, the car started up and drove away.

Returning inside, my father whispered something to my mother. She gasped and then said, Carol, wake up the children and dress them. We must return to Pennsylvania. There’s been an accident, and Jack has been hurt.

I felt like I had been knocked to my knees.

What kind of accident? How hurt? I had taken our car to my parents’ home, leaving him at home with his motorcycle.

All we know, my dad broke in, is that he was riding his motorcycle and was hit by a hit-and-run driver. We’ll go now to the hospital where he is and meet with the doctor.

The drive back to Pennsylvania seemed endlessly long. Thankfully, three-and-one-half-year-old Kim and sixteen-month-old Jim slept.

We arrived at the hospital at three in the morning and went directly to the emergency room, which struck me as odd. I knew people in serious accidents don’t spend six hours in the emergency room. They either went to a medical floor, to surgery, or to an ICU unit. Or to the morgue.

Dad, what is this all about? Why are we in the emergency room?

We’re here because the doctor needs to speak with you. Jack was badly injured. We thought you might need some medicine to help you with this.

Just then a doctor sat down beside me. Mrs. Johnson, he began. As I searched his eyes for a hint of what was coming, it occurred to me there was a depth of pain in them I had never seen in the eyes of a stranger before. Feeling I might drown in it and fearing what was coming, I looked away.

I’m sorry to tell you that your husband passed away at nine o’clock tonight. We did everything we could to save him, but his injuries were too severe. Before he died, he asked for you and the children. I told him we were sending for you.

Now I understood why I knew I was no longer married.

The unshakable knowledge I had experienced at the campfire, I believe, was the severing of what had been a very real spiritual bond created by God the moment Jack and I married. It had existed since then. Now, severed by Jack’s death, this bond was gone.

The weeks and months that followed weren’t easy. Jack being taken away so suddenly gave us no chance to say good-bye, and I missed him terribly.

Before he died, I had been the dependent one, always looking to him as head of our home for direction in our life. But a new strength came that I hadn’t possessed before, enabling me to assume my new responsibilities.

Through it all, I was comforted and held up by knowing this—who but someone as close as a spiritual husband could have prepared me to hear news like that? Who, but God, could have given me this certain knowing I had experienced so that I would be assured, when the time came for me to learn of the accident, that He was already there, living this tragedy with me, with plans to help me? The Bible tells us repeatedly that God takes special care of orphans and widows. I would shortly find out how special His care could be.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles. (2 Corinthians 1:3, 4. NIV.)

Prayer: Father, thank You that there is nothing You are not aware of and that, although life-changing events may be just around the corner, still out of our sight, You are already making plans for helping us walk through them and will be with us in them.

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4

Like a Church

One beautiful summer day as I was recovering from the shock of the sudden death of my young husband and the great changes it had made in our lives, I walked along a city street in my hometown on the shores of Lake Erie.

The area where I strolled was especially beautiful, with a broad boulevard, manicured lawns, stunning landscaping, and most beautiful of all, a large, glistening white church with a soaring steeple topped with a cross.

I was captivated by this church, with its stained-glass windows reflecting bold, colorful light in so many fascinating ways. I stopped walking and just stood looking at it for a moment, marveling at how anything could be so beautiful.

After a moment, words in the form of a question floated into my mind. They said, Do you think that the people who live in this neighborhood can forget about Me?

Somehow I knew it was God who was speaking to me. I thought about His question. I pondered this for a moment then answered Him. I said, I don’t see how. Every day as they come and go they pass this church, and seeing it would cause them to remember You.

He then said, "You are like this church. You cause people to remember Me."

Since that time, I’ve seen this as the purpose in my life. More than that, it is the purpose of all our lives. Whenever I can, I hope to cause people to remember God, because He remembers them.

What is man that you keep him in mind? The son of man that you take him into account?" (Psalm 8:4. BBE.)

Prayer: Dear God, help us to remember that our lives matter to you, and we can know this because your Word tells us you always remember us.

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5

This Same Jesus

"Jim! I yelped terrified as I came around the corner into the kitchen just in time to see ferocious flames licking the bottom of the cabinets. What are you doing?"

I’m making toast, Mommy! He told me with pride. Unable to find the bread, he had stuffed the toaster with crackers instead.

I had always feared kitchen fires. They can be so deadly so fast. With trembling hands I raced to pull the plug on the toaster then, sweeping it into the sink, I flooded it with water.

Another disaster diverted. My weak knees barely carried me to a chair, where I collapsed. Looking toward heaven, I silently charged my recently deceased husband with abandoning his family and leaving me with all the responsibilities.

Of course, that wasn’t rational. His death by a habitually intoxicated driver hardly qualified his being absent from our family as abandonment, but I wasn’t being rational these days. I was feeling the responsibility of keeping this rambunctious three-year-old safe weighing heavily on me.

Only the week before I had gone into Jim’s room to make his bed and, giving his comforter a strong shake, was expecting to watch it float out over his bed. Instead, two raw eggs and an open can of chocolate syrup flew across the room, striking the opposite wall. Ug! The walls, baseboard, and carpeting of his room required some serious cleaning from that escapade. He patiently explained to me that he woke up and felt hungry. So I went to the kitchen and got some food.

And then there was the anxious moment when I heard his dreaded asthmatic wheezing. Going to find him, I collided with him in the hall just in time to see foaming bathroom cleanser running down his forehead and fast approaching his eyes.

Look! I sprayed my hair like you do, Mommy, he cheerfully informed me. Was