Angel Army

The snow fell softly onto the road.  Wiper blades intermittently removed flakes and mist from my window as I attempted to keep my vehicle on the icy, snowy road in the early hours of daylight.

Squinting into the distance of the oncoming traffic, a car began to slide sideways at record speed across the center line, heading directly into the car two cars ahead of me.  As if watching a movie in slow motion, a real-life horror played out before my eyes.  Seconds later the vehicle ahead of me came to a dead halt in the ditch after slamming into the sliding- sideways car, activating the air bag and blowing out the back window. 

As if still watching a movie, myself and the man in the truck ahead of me pulled over and ran to the two vehicles that now sat motionless.  An eerie silence pierced the cold morning air.  Another passerby called for help.

Debris cluttered the highway with car parts, an umbrella, glad bags filled with cheerios and other random objects.  

No one opened the door to their vehicles to surmise the damage as both drivers lay unconscious behind deployed airbags.  The man in the truck whom I quickly learned was named Charles, and I went to both vehicles to see what we could do to help.  Pounding in my chest, my heart was triggered at the thought of what may await us as we approached the vehicles; but I could not turn back.

Her voice was shaken and loud, though not nearly as loud as the fear her eyes held as she met my own eyes with laser force.  She was still in her booster seat.  As a mother of three girls, I guessed her age to be six.  Her arm appeared to be broken but it was quickly apparent her greatest fear was seeing her grandmother unresponsive in the driver’s seat unable to provide comfort.

Lily, her name was Lily.  Screaming for me to help her, she reached out her good arm wanting me to hold her hand.  I was both taken aback and drawn in by her ability to portray such a beautiful picture of fear with no reservations or excuses.  Fully abandoned, unashamed, beautiful and caring Lily began asking me question after question.

When my attempts to calm Lily were unsuccessful I asked, “Do you believe in God?” I was unable to think of anything more important to ask under our unique circumstances.  “Yes,” Lily replied, continuing to stare straight into my eyes.  “Can we pray together right now and talk to God?” I asked.  “Yes” she instantly replied, finally willing to trust this stranger sharing her backseat donning a messy ponytail and black Nike cap.

I held Lily’s tiny outstretched hand in my own cold, trembling hand and we began to pray.  Her grandmother remained motionless in the front seat as we prayed for God to bring comfort and peace.  I asked God to wrap His arms of love around Lily and her grandmother among other things of which I have absolutely no recollection.  However, as we prayed, the moment became surreal as I sensed God’s angel army surrounding us.  In that moment I felt closer to God than I have in a very long time.

Eventually sirens sounded in the distance.   Lily’s face had grown pale as fear filled her heart.  I attempted teaching her breathing techniques to calm her and diversions such as asking her about Christmas and gifts.  “I can’t talk about that right now” she stated, voice quivering, as her little head dropped and her brave shoulders slumped, “I’m hurting too much.  Can you pray again and keep praying?” she asked.

So we prayed some more.  

Lily became bold as she began telling me what to say in my prayers, “Tell Him to make me not hurt.  Tell Him to help my Grandma.” She was wise beyond her six years; aware that God was listening to us and confident that He would answer her sincere prayers.  

I do not know why Lily and her grandmother were hit by the oncoming car instead of me.  

I do know that sometimes we are given a rare glimpse into the face of Jesus.  His love is manifest through the eyes of a child; His beauty reflecting through the innocence of a child’s heart.  

I will never forget the mighty warrior inside the tiny frame of a six year old named Lily.

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Sheila Cote

Rest, Weary Soldier

Something strange and unexpected happened to me this week.

With the 11 year anniversary of 9/11 came the reflections and remembrance of an event that none will ever forget.  Although each person in America was impacted by the events of 9/11, one might say there were different levels of impact depending on how close or distant one was to the tragic events of the day.  Families were changed for a lifetime from an event that appeared to last only moments.

Now, 11 years later, it seems that time has stood still for some when listening to interviews of those who experienced the loss of a son, daughter, husband, wife, mother or father.  The pain is still so close to the surface that words are unable to form when remembering that impactful day.

As I was praying and thinking about my own little world of pain and trouble, I felt almost silly presenting myself before my Father.  In light of all the “real” issues facing our country and in light of all the “real” struggles many people are facing; I felt quite weak to not be handling my own tiny issues with greater grace and strength.

However, on this particular day, I knew that I needed time and intimacy with my Maker—so I locked the door to my bedroom and knelt on the floor hoping words could adequate the emotions hiding in the basement of my heavy soul.  

I am unaware how much time passed, as time has a way of passing quickly at the feet of the Throne of Grace.  Eventually I landed in the fetal position as I admitted my inability to fix myself or to make myself better. 

It’s not often that I hear God speak to my heart; sometimes His voice can be confused with my own thoughts.  On this morning, however, He spoke and I heard His voice with perfect clarity, “Rest, weary Soldier.”

At first I was confused because I have not tackled fearless feats such as running into burning buildings to rescue victims.  Nonetheless, God’s Spirit flooded my heart.  I realized that God does not treat us nor respond to us by measuring us against a scale reflecting different levels of pain or hurt.  Whether or not our hearts have been wounded by a public loss or a loss that is known only to ourselves, the pain is ever real and can only be healed by our Father.

God is unable and unwilling to view us through a lens of unworthiness just because the world does not know our name or because we do not carry a title.  He is now, and forever will be, unmoved by another's view or opinion of us.  It is only His opinion that matters and only He who can bring change to a heart that seeks Him and longs to know Him.

Perhaps you, too, are a weary soldier, longing to find rest for your soul.  “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,” says our Father. (Mt. 11:28)

I do not know how it happened, but as I humbled myself in His presence and accepted His offer of rest, I was refreshed.  

Whatever road you are traveling, whatever the shape or the size of your trial, you are not hidden from your Father.  As your heart longs for His heart, so does He long for you.  

You need only carry your burdens to the feet of Jesus; He will meet you at the Throne of Grace.  “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

Rest, weary Soldier.

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Sheila Cote'

Un-sta-ble

I quite recently received what at first felt like an incredible insult but which after several days of pondering I have decided instead is one of my greatest compliments.

I was described as unstable.  

Unstable is defined as “capable of undergoing spontaneous change.” “An atom, possessing excessive energy, in an unstable state is called excited.” “Not firm or fixed in one place; likely to move.”

I wonder if Abraham, in his old age, was considered unstable when he chose to obey God, pick up his life and move to a place where he was described as a foreigner living in a foreign land.  He most definitely was not fixed in one place as he stepped out in obedience, risking it all, to live a life of total surrender to his Father.

Moses may very well have been described as unstable as he chose to give up the life of luxury to instead live among his own people.  He chose to step down the social ladder instead of stepping up; who in their stable mind would do such a thing?

Gideon must have felt and looked incredibly unstable as he took his shrinking army of 300 men to fight the Midianites who numbered in the thousands, whose camels were described as “numerous as the sands on the seashore.”  Yet, in total obedience to God, he risked everything, including his reputation.  I’m guessing he possessed “excessive energy and excitement” in his unstable position.  There is a very long list of names of men and women in the Bible who could be described as unstable.

There are seasons of our lives where we are not given the luxury of safe, stable, or sure things.  Instead, we are asked to trust our Father with each moment of our lives and to keep our hearts open to Him in complete and total surrender.  Sometimes we are asked to move geographically in obedience to Him; other times we are asked to trust Him as we learn to hold loosely all that He has blessed our lives with-- even when all we have is stripped away.  Life may look and feel unstable as our self-created identities are traded for our God-created identities; it is a painful process at best and feels anything but stable.

I wonder if Noah attempted to defend himself to the questions of onlookers when God asked him to build an ark.  The ark was not hidden in Noah’s back yard and kept a secret from the world.  Noah got to look unstable as the world watched and judged. The ark was not built in a day; Noah had to surrender his reputation daily in obedience to God’s plan.  When we are willing to risk our livelihoods, our finances, our homes, and our reputations for God—there’s no telling what purposes of God’s can be accomplished through our unstable lives.

Are you capable of undergoing spontaneous change? Are you in an excited or active state, such as an atom with a nucleus possessing excessive energy? In other words, are you unstable?

I believe we are well on our way to cracking the lid wide open to our total effectiveness and our true purposes as we fully surrender and give God full control—embracing the fact that a life lived fully for God will appear to be anything but stable.

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Sheila Cote

The Midnight Hour

We have all heard the phrase that timing is everything; I say that God’s timing is everything.

If we were to take a moment and think back over the course of our short lifetime, we would be amazed and convinced that God is a God of perfect timing.  He is never too early and He is never too late; even when He moves His hand at the midnight hour—He is implicitly on time.

Throughout the history of the Bible we are given example upon example of God’s perfect plan being revealed at the perfect time.  Noah spent years building an ark at a time when there was a drought in the land; at the perfect time the ark was complete and the rain began. 

Esther was a woman whom God gave both favor and position, not because of anything she had done, but because of who God had called her to be.  We see the perfect timing of God’s hand in Esther’s life when she was reminded by her cousin Mordecai, “And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14b)

Our ultimate example, Jesus, was not only aware of His purpose on earth but He was also aware of God’s timing in all that He was called to do.  In the first of many miracles when Jesus’ mother informed Him that there was no more wine at the wedding He responded by saying, “Dear woman, why do you involve me?  My time has not yet come.” (Jn. 2:4)  However, as we travel further along in the Gospel of John to chapter 17, Jesus is aware that time has changed, “Jesus looked toward heaven and prayed: “Father, the time has come.  Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you.”

Paul brings things closer to home for us in the book of Romans when he boldly instructs us on how we are to live our lives, “The hour has come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.  The night is nearly over; the day is almost here.” (Romans 12:11&12)

It’s as if Paul is imploring us, “Do you not see, can you not understand—this is your time—wake up!

Right now is a time where God’s grace is evident upon the face of the earth.  His desire is that none should perish without first coming to know Him. Paul goes on to inform us in 2 Corinthians 6:2b, “I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.”

When Jesus’ time had come, He had a choice to make. He chose obedience. He “offered for all time one sacrifice for sins (His very life) and then He sat down at the right hand of God…because by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.” (Heb.10:12) 

Perhaps you are in a season of life where it appears that God has forgotten the promises He made to you.  Days have turned into months and months into years.  In the middle of the darkness sits the god of this world taunting you, whispering, “Give up on your dreams; God has turned His face from you.” 

God and His promises are unchanging. The night is almost over; the day is almost here.

Hold on tight—hold on even tighter if you are in the midnight hour -- God is never late in keeping His promises.




Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote

The Boardwalk

This afternoon as I lay on my bed sorting through all that is happening in my immediate world, I could not contain the tears that insisted on sliding down my face. I wasn’t sobbing or praying; yet the tears seemed to know the emotion deep in my heart that I had been attempting to ignore.

Tears can be so annoying and messy.

I decided to pull myself together and take a run to the park with the hopes of finding solace on the boardwalk as I have done so many times before.

I didn’t pray as I ran, instead music blasted in my ears as I blocked reality from my thoughts. I focused on my form and my breathing and the large cracks in the sidewalk that could take me down if I wasn’t attentive.

Entering the park, heading for the boardwalk, I forced myself to turn off the blasting music--even with a bad attitude I was thankful there no signs of human life on my precious boardwalk.

Honestly, I was ticked at God. I know “spiritual” men and women who claim that they have never been mad at God; knowing that made me even more ticked. Considering that God already knew the true state of my heart, pretending seemed silly and, after all, He had been gracious enough to give me the boardwalk all to myself so that I could have an honest conversation with Him.

At first I found myself cantankerous as I began to tell God that I needed Him to meet with me. I told Him that I had questions and that I needed answers. What nerve for the created to demand a presence with her Creator. I thought of Job and how humbled he was when God gave him his wish for an audience with his Maker. It wasn’t pretty. I wondered if lightening might strike me dead on the spot.

However, something that I wasn’t expecting happened as I poured out my heart to my Father. As I shared my heart, longing for His presence and for answers and to feel “seen;” He met me. Birds of various colors began to fly in the section of trees where I stood, each more lovely than the other. I was mesmerized by the beauty of God’s creation. I was standing on holy ground.

I was reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew (6:23-27) “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

Those messy tears came back out of nowhere and this time I didn’t stop them. I no longer cared if anyone else should venture onto the boardwalk. He reminded me of His faithfulness. He reminded me of His goodness. I was deeply humbled.

I asked God to forgive me for my lack of faith and once again laid my will down in trade for His.

Turning to leave the boardwalk, I felt forgiven and pure.

Sometimes, when we are in serious pursuit of God, He beckons us to meet with Him. In the stillness of His presence, we are changed by an unchanging God.

One day we shall behold Him face to face…but for now I’m thankful for the boardwalk.

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote