Yesterday was Duane's birthday--the first one spent worshiping at the very throne of God. In honor of the legacy that he left behind, I wanted to share a small story of God's faithfulness.
As many of you know, this past Christmas was a difficult one for me, as Duane went to be with the Lord on Sunday December 28, 2008 after a long battle with cancer. But what most of you don't know, is the special way in which God graciously prepared me to lead worship that morning. (Which I could not have done without the hand of God holding me up.)
My worship team was scheduled to lead on the 28th, and on the preceding Friday night, I had a dream from the lord that Duane was going to die that Saturday night. I spent the next day, Saturday, in the church office changing the song selection for the Sunday morning service, weeping over each song choice on my knees before the Lord. My team got together to practice that night. And the next morning (Sunday) when we arrived to set up, I was told that Duane had died early that morning. After telling the team and praying together over our loss, we prayed for God’s comfort and hand of protection on the congregation, as most of them were to learn of Duane’s passing for the first time at the service.
Leading that morning was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But it was such a blessing to have known ahead of time from the Lord so that I could not only choose songs that would be able to lead the congregation into the throne room of God in their grief--but also so I could mourn the day before, and be prepared to lead the congregation into worship.
It was a beautiful gift that Duane was taken on a Sunday morning, so that the church could gather as a body immediately and respond with worship. Worship is not only our gift to God, but it is His gift to us; never have I had as clear a picture of that as I did that Sunday morning.
The past couple of years since Duane got sick have been ones that have required me to lean fully on the Lord for my strength. Duane was not just my worship pastor and mentor; he had also taken me under his wing as a father. I gave the question “why did I have to lose my father figure after already having ‘lost’ one?” to God immediately after my dream of Duane’s death, all the while knowing that God was the only Father I needed--that He was all I needed. Once in a while, while visiting Duane at the cemetery, I will begin to ask the question again, but then I am reminded of the miraculous ways God has shown Himself real to me in the past (like the pillars of stones the Israelites would erect to remind themselves of what God had done for them), and then all I can do is praise Him.
God is truly faithful, and He knows what each one of us needs. Even when we can't understand circumstances in our lives, God can--and He desires for us to trust and draw near to Him. When we are pressed close to God's side, it is then we can truly hear His heart beating for us. . . and for the world around us.
Duane is now singing God's praises in heaven, and although this has left me with tears in my eyes many times, it leaves me with praise in my heart at all times.
I know that my Redeemer lives!
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever living head!
He lives triumphant from the grave;
He lives eternally to save;
He lives exalted, throned above;
He lives to rule his Church in love.
He lives to silence all my fears;
He lives to wipe away my tears;
He lives to calm my troubled heart;
He lives all blessings to impart.
He lives to bless me with his love;
He lives to plead for me above;
He lives my hungry soul to feed;
He lives to help in time of need.
He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly friend;
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while he lives, I’ll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King!
He lives, all glory to his name!
He lives, my savior, still the same;
What joy this blest assurance gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives!
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