There You Are! (Part 1 of 2)
By Roslyn Catracchia, Director of Worship
Yesterday was a rough day. It had started with my reading my Jesus Calling devotional book, something about how I was supposed to be joyful. The passage mentioned “exceeding joy.” Advent will be here in the blink of an eye. Can you believe it? Advent, the coming of Jesus, the hope of the world. There should be joy to the world and, yes, exceeding great joy.
Jesus, the hope of the world. My hope is that I truly believe with every fiber of my being that He is THE hope of the world–– my personal hope for each day, my todays, my tomorrows, for eternity.
And yet some days are just so difficult and filled with challenge after challenge, so it’s often a challenge to find the “exceeding joy” in moments like yesterday. Hard to find the hope. Yesterday was one of those days.
So I went to CPK and was thankful to be the last person they let into the restaurant for the night (thank You, God). I’ve only gone there a handful of times over the past few months. But after going there for decades, I pretty much know everyone on staff. One employee came by and asked how I’ve been doing. He was wearing his mask, of course, and for a few moments I had no idea who I was talking to. But then, as I kept looking into his eyes, there was an immediate recognition of who he was! And I said out loud, “Oh, THERE you are!” We talked for about a minute more, then he went back to work, and I went back to having dinner, reflecting on the interaction. And immediately, a memory came to mind.
I’m not surprised this memory came back to mind. I’ve literally thought about it almost every day since March, since the “lockdown” began. It’s a memory of First Prez member Jim Hickerson’s testimony from a few years back. It’s a testimony of an experience during his first few weeks of being a prisoner of war (POW) in Vietnam, at the “Hanoi Hilton,” I believe they called it.
This was right after he was shot down, and the treatment he and the other prisoners of war received was very severe as they tried to break him down and gather information. On this particular day, Jim had just been interrogated. They had been trained to only give their name, rank, and serial number. But they were beating on him so much that he said more. And after it was done, he was returned to his isolation cell feeling so guilty and in the depths of despair. All of a sudden, there was an air raid, and bombs started falling. The bombing was so bad that the guards high-tailed it out of there. Plaster was falling off the ceiling of his cell, and Jim fell to the floor. Prisoners were not supposed to communicate with each other. But when he hit the floor, he looked through the space beneath the door across to the other side of the hall, and he saw a pair of round blue eyes, indicating it wasn’t a guard! It was another American POW named Bob Frishman.
Bob asked, “Did you tell them anything?”
Jim said, “You get very honest when you’re in the depths… I said, yeah, I did. It wasn’t easy, but I did.”
Bob said, “Don’t worry, everyone has. Just get yourself ready for the next fight.”
Jim said it was like relief washed over him because he was feeling like the only one who had betrayed his country.
I called Jim today to make sure I got his story right. I spoke with him and his wife, Carole, and asked if it was okay to share this in my devotional. He said yes, happy to share his story. It was a great conversation, and I told him how meaningful his story has meant to me over the years, on so many levels.
And the reason I wanted to share this is because every day during this pandemic, when I think of how hard it is, I truly come back to remind myself, “Roz, get over it. Pull yourself together. It’s not like we’re in the middle of war, not like you’re a POW like Jim Hickerson or Jerry Coffee (another First Prez member) was. You’re not at the Hanoi Hilton. It’s not as if you’re in Auschwitz.”
And then I remember both Jim and Jerry, and how much I respect them and love seeing their smiling eyes! I don’t know how they have such smiling, warm, loving eyes, after all, they’ve been through. But they’ve chosen something somewhere along the way to be loving rather than bitter.
There is much we cannot do these days. But there is so much we CAN do. We are not in war. We are not prisoners. There are some crazy difficult times many of us are going through. This isn’t easy. But…
Yesterday I thought I was having a rough day. Until I put it into perspective.
Heavenly Father,
Open my eyes that I may see
Glimpses of truth You have for me
Place in my hands the wonderful key
That shall unlock and set me free
Silently now I wait for You,
Ready, my God, Your will to do.
Open my eyes, illumine me,
Spirit divine!
(Verse 1 of the Hymn “Open My Eyes That I May See”)
Share this with a friend: