For most of my life, I was part of the same church.
The whole congregation shaped me as I grew up, and three couples from the church, in particular, were close to my family. I have distinct memories of camping together every summer (this summer was no exception), surprise parties, conversations around the fire pit, and coffee dates with the women. As I grew up, these women became like mothers to me. My dad was (and continues to be) in a small group with the men from these couples.
It’s these men—two elders and a pastor—who indirectly had the greatest influence on my faith.
Tragedy
On December 10, 2011, my grandfather crashed his private plane in a California desert. He died on impact.
Throughout that evening, at the age of 10, I remember processing the nature of death while watching my father sob over the sudden loss of a parent. An airline pilot himself, my dad struggled to digest his father’s death in a healthy way. Months went by, and he was still angry. Years went by, and my mother, sister, and I were still walking on eggshells around the home, nervously anticipating my father’s mood swings. My mom dragged him to therapists, church counselors, and mentors, but nothing seemed to change; my dad was stuck in a spiral of depression and misplaced anger.
At her wit’s end, my mom began looking for houses in the area so she could separate from my dad who, at this point, claimed their marriage was over. In one last attempt to revive her marriage, she reached out to the men in my dad’s Bible study group and explained our precarious family situation.
Response
These men listened as my tearful mom described her husband’s anger and its effects on our daily lives. They listened fairly and compassionately, knowing her cries were against one of their best friends. Then they agreed to step in out of love for my dad and his family. They called an intervention in the fall of 2018, and my dad, by God’s grace, had the patience and humility to hear them out.
These men agreed to step in out of love for my dad and his family.
I don’t know the details of their conversation. I don’t know what they said to my dad to help him understand his heart problem. But I know God used these three men in an active, lively, and permanent way to reveal to my father the type of man he’d become to his family.
Since that day, my dad has been a completely changed man. Once the source of stress, he’s now the mediator, peacemaker, and wisdom dispenser during family conflicts. He’s a doting husband, attentive father, and fantastic pilot.
Though difficult to go through as a young teenager, this experience taught me two lessons I continue to carry with me.
Lessons
First, the gospel changes lives. My dad came to terms with how his anger and pride hurt the people he most loved for many years. Seemingly overnight, he changed from a man of anger to a man of patience and love. When he was confronted with the grace, forgiveness, and mercy of the gospel message, those traits infiltrated his life as well.
Second, brotherly love cares more about someone’s spiritual health than about the discomfort of confrontation. After enjoying many years of mutually enriching friendship, those men could have decided confronting my dad was too risky. They could have prioritized maintaining a comfortable friendship over helping a friend in spiritual need.
Instead, I witnessed a few close friends listen to and trust my mother, love my dad, and care about my sister and me in a tangible way that puts Matthew 18:15–16 into action: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses.”
Brotherly love cares more about someone’s spiritual health than about the discomfort of confrontation.
I saw this passage demonstrated in a way that proves the Holy Spirit’s power. Not only did this intervention save my parents’ marriage, but the friendship my dad continues to experience with these men is even richer than before.
The men in my dad’s small group were compellingly discreet; nobody went around drawing attention to this miraculous change. The men didn’t pat themselves on the back but rather quietly went on their way. They weren’t trying to persuade me about anything or encourage me to think well of them. Instead, I came to my own conclusion that what happened to my dad must be the saving work of Jesus. There was simply no other alternative.
I’d spent my whole life pondering conceptual faith, but this was my first experience with faith in action. It made real the hypothetical. I saw what James described as the “doer” and not simply the “hearer” (James 1:22).
While this was the first time I witnessed the gospel’s power, but it wasn’t the last. My dad’s thriving marriage with my mom and his rich friendships with those men continue to point back to the Holy Spirit’s transformative work in the lives of ordinary people.
The Gospel Coalition