My brother – in – Law, John, loved Afghanistan. He loved the people. He loved the pace. He loved the culture. He loved it so much that he left his job at the University of Illinois to teach computer science at the University of Kabul. It was there that he, his wife Theresa, his mother Betty and father Gary were shot at by a security guard as they prepared to enter a Children’s Hospital where Theresa had worked as a nurse. John and Gary were killed, and Theresa was wounded.
The events feel old to me now. The last few months have felt like 10. I remember the funeral, I remember welcoming my wounded sister – in – law home, I remember holding my niece and feeling so much sadness for her. But as vivid as those memories are for me, at the same time there is a fogginess that makes this feel like an old, old story.
I went back today and re – read the news stories from April 24 and I noticed that even though it’s several months after the shootings, there are still small errors in each story. In some it’s a misspelled name, or a date that’s off; for others, my father – in – law and his son were secret physicians. It’s strange to see how quickly the news cycle works. One story after another, time marches on.
Meanwhile, to those of us who are part of the story, we feel like we’re holding a bag of wet laundry, and as much as our muscles ache and our brain screams to put it down, we can’t let go just yet. We feel like the only ones running a race that everyone else gave up on ages ago.
But that’s the strange thing about the church. No matter how much time marches on, no matter how much everything else changes, and even when everyone else is already sipping lemonade on the sidelines, the church is ever present—running ahead of you to smooth a bumpy spot, and standing behind you, pushing, when it feels like you can’t take another step. My family would not still be standing if it weren’t for the way that our church, both local and national, rallied around us. Through the time, talent and treasure of more people than I can count, one of the worst experiences I could have ever conceived has gone significantly smoother than it might have.
It seems right that the ever – presence of the church is rivaled only by the omnipresence of God. The ways God is providing for my mother – in – law and her daughter through the chaos has been nothing short of miraculous, and has brought life to the words of Isaiah 43:2: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
Thank you for your prayers. From coast to coast, we have been prayed for. You have interceded for us more times than I can possibly count, and God has acted on those prayers. He has brought my family home, and He has begun the long work of healing, rebuilding and restoring.
Please keep praying for my family, keep loving us, and keep serving God.
About Jared Miller
Rev. Jared Miller is the minister at Trinity, Grenfell, Sask.
