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A Faith Story by Anne Hoffman
I need a sign
Give me a sign
I have no faith, no strength to believe.
I hear Your words, but do not heed them.
I ask for more.
I ask for what I need
I need a sign
But I'm not bold enough to ask
Why can't I say "Show me"?
"Speak to me"?
"Send a rainbow"?
But You read my thoughts
And You send a sign anyway
You send a hundred, a thousand, a
lifetime.
You send a Son
And when I see the sign I have begged
for in my heart
I make excuses
I say "Best 2 out of 3"
I change the rules.
You keep showing me.
You don't give up on me.
You show me the cross
Finally, I see You.
I feel peace
I feel grace
I feel forgiven
I have faith
I see the sign
I see the cross
I kneel and thank You
I believe.
Anne Hoffman is a member of
Peace Lutheran Church, Wife of Anton and mother of Jacob and Erik.
Devotions by Walter Kamphoefner given at Peace
Lutheran Church Council Meeting , March 5, 2002
Since you’re making me work
on my birthday, I thought I’d offer a few birthday reflections, based on
one of my favorite Psalms, Psalm 103. I hope you don’t mind the King James
Version: for poetry, I don’t think the language of Shakespear can be
improved upon, and besides that’s what I learned by heart in a one-room
Mo. Synod grade school:
Psalm
103
[1] Bless the LORD, O my
soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name.
[2] Bless the LORD, O my
soul, and forget not all his benefits:
[3] Who forgiveth all thine
iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases;
[4] Who redeemeth thy life
from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender
mercies;
[5] Who satisfieth thy mouth
with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.
[6] The LORD executeth
righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed.
[7] He made known his ways
unto Moses, his acts unto the children of Israel.
[8] The LORD is merciful and
gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
[9] He will not always
chide: neither will he keep his anger for ever.
[10] He hath not dealt with
us after our sins; nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
[11] For as the heaven is
high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him.
[12] As far as the east is
from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.
[13] Like as a father
pitieth his children, so the LORD pitieth them that fear him.
[14] For he knoweth our
frame; he remembereth that we are dust.
[15] As for man, his days
are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.
[16] For the wind passeth
over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
[17 ] But the mercy of the
LORD is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his
righteousness unto children's children;
[18] To such as keep his
covenant, and to those that remember his commandments to do them.
Birthdays are a good time
for taking stock, for looking back and reflecting on all the things we
have to be thankful for. In my case I hardly know where to start, so I’ll
start from the beginning. I’m thankful for my parents, who by their
teachings and example showed me the ways of the Lord, who were not
conformed to this world, but had a higher set of priorities. For growing
up on a farm where I was surrounded by the wonders of nature, where I
could experience meaningful work at an early age, where I actually knew
how my Dad made his living and where the food came from that my Mom put on
the table. For a lot of underpaid parochial school teachers who inspired
and motivated me along the way (the first public school I ever attended
was graduate school).
I’m thankful for the
educational opportunities I’ve had, for the dissertation fellowship that
first introduced me to Europe and its many delights, for finding a job in
my field despite some truly dismal prospects. For having work that I
enjoy, that I’d almost be willing to do for free, for the many
opportunities I have to mix business and pleasure.
I won’t go so far as to say
I’m thankful for having diabetes, but I am grateful that it only set in
when I was 32, that I’ve lived with it for over 20 years with no major
complications, that my one serious, incredibly stupid lapse in treatment
that landed me in intensive care and could have easily killed me left no
lasting damage. And I’m grateful for various medical advances in the field
that seem to come along just about the time I need them.
I’m thankful for a wife who
has made a lot a sacrifices, who took on a new culture and an unfamiliar
language to be together with me. I’m thankful that I could still
experience the wonders of parenthood at age 48, for two healthy children,
for having the security that allows me to spend a lot of time with them.
And I’m thankful that through these two miracles, I was reawakened to
other miracles in my life.
I’m grateful for a God who
is slow to anger and plenteous in mercy, who never gave up on me during my
maybe not 40 years in the wilderness, but certainly 20. I’m grateful for a
student of mine named Craig Borchardt who eventually became my teacher.
I’m grateful for Peace Lutheran Church, which I failed to appreciate when
I lived on the next block, but finally found my way there after all. I’m
grateful for my brothers and sisters in Christ here at Peace, who bear one
one another’s burdens, who spread the peace of the Lord, who reach out
with helping hands to our community. Although this may sound unchristian,
I’m grateful I didn’t become a pastor as I was originally slated to be,
but that the Lord nevertheless found ways to put me to work in the
priesthood of all believers.
Lord, teach us to number our
days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. I don’t know how much time
I have left on your earth, but I know I am in good hands, and will be when
my time here is through.
[Walter
Kamphoefner is a member of Peace husband of Anja and father of
Sandra and Thomas]
Sarah Johnson
[Bonfire
at Texas A University prior to 1999 was huge 55 foot structure which the
students built with large logs for months before the football game with
the University of Texas. On November 18, 1999, in the early morning hours,
the mountain of logs almost completed for Bonfire, fell killing 12
students and injuring many more. Two years later the community is still
dealing with the grief and the after effects of this tragedy. Sarah
Johnson writes these recollections of that day two years ago and the
impact it made on her life especially after September 11th. ]
I felt it was appropriate to tell this particular faith story at this
time. Especially for those of you who weren't here in the fall of 1999.
I want you to have some idea of what it was like, and why we stand on the
polo fields at 2:42 in the morning on Nov 18. I cannot tell you
everything I experienced that day or the days that followed, not because I
don't want to, but I lack the strength. Telling you this much will be
hard enough.
As you all know Nov 18 was the two year anniversary of Bonfire. Anyone
who was here that year was changed by it. On Nov. 17, I was a typical
fish [freshman] stressing over classes, eagerly awaiting Thanksgiving
break and some time at home. On Nov. 18 everything changed. I was
awakened by a phone call from a friend at 3 in the morning. She was
crying and told me Bonfire fell. My first reaction was "Ok, well
they'll just rebuild it." It didn't cross my mind that people might
have been injured, let alone killed. It wasn't until my friend told me
that I realized the severity of her statement, but I never imagined the
magnitude of what actually happened, the extent of the injuries, or the
sheer panic, terror, and frantic rescue that was taking place just down
the road. I lived in Mosher in the Commons, and you could hear the sirens
going to the polo fields. People were running down the halls, knocking on
doors to see if their friends were there or at stack. I wanted to go to
the polo fields to see if they needed help, but I was too scared to even
get out of bed. And that has haunted me ever since, that I didn't help.
My mother called me in tears at 6:30 am, after she had seen the news. I
told her I was fine and not to worry. Like many students, that day was
full of phone calls to or from worried family members.
Going to class that day was surreal to say the least. Back then everyone
said howdy. You couldn't walk to class without at least one perfect
stranger saying hello. That day, we couldn't even raise our eyes from the
ground to look at each other. The campus was quiet, and this campus is
never quiet. I went to classes Thursday and Friday. No one actually held
lecture, but we signed in, giving our ID numbers, so they could a do head
count. They still didn't know who was missing. Coming back from my last
class, I remember walking through the Commons lobby, and seeing a crowd of
people standing around the glass wall in front of the copy machines. They
had posted a list of all the people in the hospital, those released, and
those that didn't make it. I had never been so scared of a piece of paper
in my life. I thanked God that none of my friends were on that list. I
turned to go to my dorm, and saw a girl sobbing into her hands because she
wasn't that fortunate, she did know someone on that list.
Kristin,myself, and our roommates went to the memorial that night in Reed Arena.
I hadn't really cried until then. We went with our dorm, and sat in the
front. Miranda, our bonfire co-chair had died. Across the aisle sat
students still wearing their pots, exhausted, dirty, and solemn. They
were wearing arm bands, and had come from helping remove logs and after
the service they went back to removing logs. At the end of the service,
we all stood as the family members walked out first. Then we
spontaneously linked arms and sang "Amazing Grace." None of us really
wanted to leave, I guess because that meant we had to deal with what
happened. Kristin and I visited the polo fields many times, to leave
pots, light a candle, say a prayer, or just to try to comprehend how or
why this happened. The entire polo fields had become a makeshift
memorial, with 12 white crosses in the ground, poems, flowers, candles, pots, and
crosses stuck into the orange perimeter fence. People were still
searching for students under the stack, and the place was surrounded by
cameras from all over, trying to get the story as we mourned. It was
silent except for the sounds of crying. We were no longer invincible, we
were painfully reminded of our mortality. I shed a lot of tears on that
field.
And after the sorrow came the anger. I was never angry at God, I didn't
blame Him at all. I don't know who I was angry at, but I was angry that I
had been robbed of 12 people I will never know. I will never know their
smile, their dreams, their laugh. Was the empty seat next to me in class
where they would be sitting?. I had been robbed of my normal life and I
wanted it back.
Ok, so I'm telling this big sob story about Bonfire, that's all we seem to
talk about here right? Where does the faith story come in? Well Nov,
21st is another anniversary, just for me though. It's the two anniversary
of my first service at Peace Lutheran. Kristin had always tried to get me
to go to Aggie Lutherans' Treehouse or worship with her. I had attended a
Lutheran church at home a couple times, but it was Missouri Synod and
since I wasn't a baptized Lutheran, I couldn't take communion there. So I
had always passed when Kristin invited me. But this Sunday I needed the
comfort of church. Nov 21st was the first time I met one of my pillars,
though Pastor Deb probably doesn't remember. I remember her sermon about
"Thy Kingdom come." And she was right, people always fear the end of the
world. We always want more time to accomplish what we never did. Say
what we never said. But we've lost sight of the "kingdom of heaven"
part. Why are we so afraid of the arrival of God's kingdom? There is no
pain there, no suffering. To quote Pastor Deb, "I want the kingdom of
heaven to come now!" I realized that there are no endings, only
beginnings. It wasn't the end of 12 lives, but the beginning of 12
eternal ones.
It has been very hard to remember this at times. Especially on Sept 11,
when I walked on a quiet campus again, no one looking at each other. I
relived all the emotions of two years ago. It was too familiar for Kristin
and I. We both asked how much are we supposed to bear? But it is because
two years ago I went to Peace Lutheran that I can bear it. I can because
I have my pillars: Pastor Deb, Kristin, Chris, Cory, Brad, my family, and
you all. Even though it took me forever to learn your names, and I still
need help sometimes, you have helped me so much without even knowing it.
On our Aggie Lutherans' mission statement, which took forever to agree
upon, one of our goals was to help each other along where ever they may be
on their journey of faith. By saying "Hi" when I see you on campus, by
helping each other, by just showing up, you help me on my journey, you
help to keep me on my path. So although Nov 21 may seem like any other
day, its one of the most important days to me. Its the day I found the
path I had almost lost sight of. It has been two years since we lost 12
members of our family. I still stand on the polo fields at
2:42 and cry tears of loss, but they are not bitter or angry tears. And I
will stand on the polo fields next year, hopefully in front of a stack of
logs I helped to build, and I will still cry. But in the ending, I will
still look for the beginning.
peace,
Sarah
[During
her time in College Station,
Sarah served on the Aggie Lutheran Leadership Team and was baptised at
Peace] |
