The Matthew 28:19 Project

There are moments in life when everything feels like too much. There are times in life when you don’t know what to do, where to turn, or even who to turn to. In one of those moments, I found myself whispering a simple prayer: “God, help…”

I commute to work each day, and it takes about an hour to get from my house to the office. Dr. David Jeremiah has a daily radio broadcast, and I listen to it on my way to work. I don’t remember the exact topic of the broadcast, but it was probably part of his series on Romans. During one of the broadcasts, he talked about those times when you just don’t know what to do, where to turn, or even who to turn to. He said to stop for a moment and pray this simple prayer: “God, help…”

I don’t know why that stuck with me, but I started practicing it. At random times throughout the day, I would pause and say, “God, help…” I’m not sure why I felt the need to practice it. I even thought to myself that I was being silly and that God wouldn’t listen to me or help me when I encountered a situation I couldn’t handle on my own. I guess I thought I was training myself so that when I found myself in an overwhelming or frightening situation and needed help, stopping to pray, “God, help…” would come naturally.

Or maybe it was God training me, because He knew a time would come when He would lead my family and me into a valley, and we would need to stop and ask Him for help. He is sneaky like that. He works like that all the time; however, I’m getting better at recognizing those God-moments in my life.

Our current sermon series at church is about remaining faithful in seasons of difficulty. These past few weeks have definitely been difficult. This week, my family and I lost a beloved member of our family. Her passing wasn’t entirely unexpected, because we knew we were going to lose her and that there was nothing we could do to save her. Still, it felt sudden because she went from being healthy to being sick in less than three weeks.

Her name was Charlotte, and she was eight years old. She was a Treeing Walker Coonhound, larger than life. She even had her own Instagram account, That Goofy Dog, with far more followers than I do. Everyone who met her fell in love with her. She was famous in our neighborhood. Everyone knew and loved Charlotte. She was one of the happiest, friendliest dogs you could ever meet.

Somehow, during her many travels through the neighborhood, she picked up a rare disease that had lain dormant for years. We don’t know exactly where she picked it up. It’s a fungus that develops in stagnant water and grass. For whatever reason, it manifested over the past few weeks as a tumor that quickly progressed into cancer.

Even in this, I can see God’s handiwork. He kept her from becoming seriously ill until I returned from Gatlinburg. He also spared us from making some incredibly difficult decisions. The tumor was in a location that couldn’t be safely removed, which meant there was really only one decision to be made.

I can also see God’s handiwork in the friendships we’ve built over the years. So many people have reached out to us. My friends at work brought me flowers, and my sister’s dogs even “sent” us a basket of flowers and fruit. Our friends at church constantly checked in to make sure we were okay.

And God gave us Minnie, my tuxedo cat, who has kept us entertained through all of this. Minnie was so gentle with Charlotte and never left her side while she was sick. I worried she might become depressed, since she and Charlotte were such close companions, but Minnie has been resilient. I think she’s going to be okay.

I’ve also seen God’s handiwork through our church’s sermon series and through Dr. Jeremiah’s broadcasts. Every sermon, every message, was preparing me for the valley I’m walking through now. At the time, I had no idea why I felt the need to practice saying, “God, help…” But now I do.

When I was driving Charlotte to the animal hospital for her ultrasound, I had to stop and pray, “God, help…” I wasn’t sure we would be bringing her back home. I was also driving late at night in an unfamiliar area. I even missed my exit, but we still made it to the appointment on time, because God helped.

I had to pray, “God, help…” again after we received confirmation of the tumor. I needed clarity and strength to help my family make the right decisions. Her health was declining rapidly, and surgery wasn’t an option. We decided to take her home, keep her as comfortable as possible, and love her in the days we had left. We wanted to make sure our local vet had a role as well, because she and her entire staff had gone above and beyond over the past few weeks. She was incredible, and she deserved to say goodbye with us. The rest of the family went to pick her up and bring her home, but I stayed behind because I was scheduled to run audio at church. I was working the soundboard and PowerPoint. Right before the service, I paused and prayed, “God, help…” I needed help getting through it without completely breaking down. And I did, because God helped.

The next day, I found myself praying, “God, help…” on my drive to work. I didn’t want to fall apart there, and I still had responsibilities to take care of. Later, I prayed those same words again as we sat with Charlotte while she took her final breath. I needed to be strong, even as my heart was breaking. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I made it through because God helped.

Losing Charlotte has left a huge hole in my life, but I’m getting through it with God’s help. I’m getting through it because He has given me a purpose, and I’m doing my best to carry it out. Right now, that purpose is simply to keep moving forward and keep my mind engaged, and it’s helping me cope with the loss.

So I’ll leave you with this: when life brings you to a moment you’re not ready for, and the weight feels too heavy to carry, stop and pray, “God, help…” One day, you might look back and realize that what felt so small in the moment was preparing you for exactly what you needed to walk through.