Have you ever had your perspective violently transformed in a moment of sudden and shocking revelation? I have…

I grew up practicing a Christianity that could be summarized as reading a book, trying to do what it says, and making speeches to God. I would proudly proclaim that “Christianity is not a religion, it’s a relationship,” and yet my practice of it was, in hindsight, relationally deficient.

But in 2003, my wife gave birth to our third child and only son (that is, until a very recent adoption). Sadly, Michael was born with trisomy 13 and only lived a month. Michael spent his last few days in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). Our son received vital medical care and support there, but it was not a comfortable place for parents to visit with their babies. So, we donated a rocking chair to the NICU after Michael’s passing. 

About six weeks later, I was attending a Christian conference. During my morning prayer time, I began my daily practice of praying over that rocking chair. At the time, I was feeling somewhat exasperated as I prayed. I thought, Was God even listening? Were my prayers having any effect or were they merely an exercise helping me grieve? 

Largely out of frustration, I cried out, “God, show me how to pray!” 

Then it happened. Suddenly and forcefully, a woman’s first and last name came into my mind—a name completely unknown to me. Initially, I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I concluded it couldn’t hurt to pray for her. Upon reporting this to my wife, she excitedly called the NICU, and, in another surprise, the nurse who had cared for Michael answered the phone. She checked the records to confirm what she already knew: the previously unknown name God had brought to my mind while I prayed was, in fact, the mom of one of the babies in the NICU. And, this mom had been sitting in our rocking chair that morning at the exact time I had been praying! 

My perspective of God radically shifted that day. After this experience, I believed that God was not distant—He was close. He was not silent—He spoke into my daily circumstances. He was not content to simply leave me in grief—He used me to bless others in the midst of it. (In fact, that nurse ended up coming to Christ a few months later!) 

Thankfully, God has continued to reveal Himself through many more miraculous encounters since that fateful experience in 2003, and it is my utter joy to continue to walk with such a loving and present Father. 

This perspective shift also profoundly impacted my role as an educator. I realized that this loving and present Father wanted to go with me into my classroom every day. He wanted to speak to me as I prayed for my students and colleagues, and even invite me into His work in their lives. Despite mistakes and challenges, each day at school became a more and more wonderful adventure in walking in delight with the Holy Spirit.

As we read together this issue on perspective, may we give the Lord the freedom to change ours…for our benefit and His glory.