Tonight, our family watched a movie together. It was an action-adventure movie where, against unbelievable odds, the good guy saves the day. At some point during the movie, I turned to my husband, and said, “You’re that guy—the guy that is good in a crisis, who saves the day.”
Once, when my husband and I were out for dinner, a woman seated near us fainted and was lying on the floor. The waiters and waitresses ran to her aid but didn’t know what to do. My husband is a firefighter/EMT. He had gone outside to grab a sweater, and when he came in, he was faced with this crisis. (I had told the waiters and waitresses my husband would help.) He calmly went over to the woman, knelt beside her, and took her pulse. By this time, she was awake, and he started asking her questions to assess her health history. By the time the paramedics arrived, he calmly gave them her vitals and history and they then took her away. It seemed to me that my husband’s presence calmed everyone in the room, and I was filled with admiration for my husband.
Many years before when we were standing in a lobby of a theatre with open candles around the perimeter, I saw a young woman back into the flame and her hair caught on fire. My husband moved like lightning—extinguishing the fire with his bare hands, saving the girl, and possibly the theatre. He acted like it was no big deal. But it seemed like a big deal to me.
There are many men and women like my husband—they are good in a crisis, and they serve others with their skill sets all the time.
The day of our son’s accident, my husband heard his pager go off, stating that there was a motor vehicle/bike accident. He was out of his chair like a shot, going to help. It was our son.
At the funeral of our son, my husband spoke about the fact that the ambulance was changing shifts, so they were only one minute away from the accident. He was also struck by the fact that the paramedic instructors had just finished a class in our town, and they came to the scene of the accident. My husband personally knew these people and thought highly of their skills. After our son was airlifted to the hospital, we found out that the doctor who worked on Sean had been in Afghanistan as a combat surgeon.
These details meant something to my husband—these were his kind of people—people who serve others. My husband saw the hand of God in the service of these people. He saw God’s lovingkindness in the service of these people. He saw God himself through the acts of these people.
When we were at the hospital with Sean, we were on the pediatric floor, surrounded by nurses and doctors who took care of our son and showed compassion to us and to our other children. We saw God’s lovingkindness through them.
When our country experienced 9/11, we also witnessed men and women running into buildings while others were running out. They ran in to save, they ran in to serve. We saw God’s face in their faces.
It is easy to look at the bad and dismiss God—His existence, His power, and His love. It is not so easy to look at the good—the good in people, especially when there is a crisis—and dismiss God—His existence, His power, and His love. For what other reason do we have to act as we do except that we bear His image? If we as humans, can act so nobly—just think what that means about the One who made us, and loves us.
For my husband and me, all these things, all these people, combined with experiencing God’s loving presence and strength testified to us of God’s goodness, God’s grace, and God’s love.
So the next time you see a good guy or gal working to save the day, the moment, or a child, remember the One who made them, the One Who saved us, and thank them for bearing God’s image to you. And thank God for making them.