Academy Issue - Review and Herald Publishing Association

Web Bonus
SDA academy versus public high school? One reader gives you her opinions.
Know Jesus • Love Jesus • Live Jesus
insightmagazine.org
04•12•14
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Why Adventist
Education?
JUST JESUS
by Larry Blackmer
Larry Blackmer is vice president of education for the North American Division of the Seventh-day Adventist Church.
W
Raoul Vitale
hy should the Adventist Church in North America spend
millions of dollars each year subsidizing Adventist education from birth through graduate school? That same
question is also asked every year by your parents and
guardians, but in a somewhat different way: “Should I spend the money
to send my teenager for an Adventist education, or shall I send them to a
quality public school high school and save my money?”
I think the answer lies in another set of questions: What do your parents/guardians want as an outcome for you? What is the most important
thing they want for you? Is the first goal to ensure your financial and
social future as you grow up with a quality “Ivy League” type education?
Or is the goal broader? Is the goal for you to have a Christian character, a focus on service to humanity, and a commitment to Christ and
the church? Now, let me quickly say that there are no guarantees, yet
research has repeatedly shown that the longer a student is in Adventist
education, the more likely they are going to remain connected to the
church. A recent Valuegenesis study, a Seventh-day Adventist survey of
Seventh-day Adventist students, showed that more than 80 percent of
young people in Adventist education said attending an Adventist school
was the top spiritual influence in their lives.
The CognitiveGenesis research study, an assessment of Adventist academic achievement at the elementary and high school levels, has clearly
shown that students in Adventist schools score higher on standardized
tests than the norm—which includes all public and private school students in the U.S.A. This is true in every subject, in every grade, and every
school size! This is true even when you control for family income, prior
performance, and ethnicity. Adventist education is quality education.
Adventist education must, and I believe does, provide an opportunity
for you to develop a worldview that will help you to have a sense of hope
and wholeness in your lives. You must have an opportunity to know Jesus
as someone who is personal in your lives, and do so within the context
of the Advent message.
So why does the church invest in Adventist education? So that you and
your parents and guardians have an option of where and how you receive
a quality education, in a safe environment, and with teachers who will
value you and help you to grow into whole individuals who know Jesus
within the context of the Adventist message. This will enable you to turn
around and share Him and His message of hope and love and salvation
with a dying world.
ho is Jesus and why
is knowing Him the most
important decision you’ll ever make
in your life? Go to www.hutchcraft.
com/yours-for-life/presentation/
alpha to get answers to these questions.
Log on to www.insightmagazine.org/justjesus to learn more
about knowing, loving, and living Jesus.
Online
GOdeeper
Why do you attend an SDA academy? What do you
appreciate about it? How can you make your academy
experience more meaningful? If you don’t attend an
academy, why not? What do you like most about
where you do go to school?
BONUSfeature
One reader’s perspective on the pros and cons of both
school choices.
Check us out online at insightmagazine.org.
April 12, 2014 Vol. 45, No. 15
Printed in the U.S.A.
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pastor, and chaplain at GCA all have more than 10 years of service at that
school. It’s difficult to create traction and foster an atmosphere of connection when the leadership changes every year. I encourage you to stay
for the long haul. It makes a difference.
Mission
Possible
by
Roger Hernandez
he Georgia-Cumberland Academy Seventh-day Adventist
Church family exists to capture the hearts and minds of young
people and develop them into fully devoted disciples of Jesus
Christ.” So reads the mission statement of Georgia-Cumberland Academy (GCA) church. I just finished doing a Week of
Prayer there with my daughter Vanessa, and I observed some interesting,
practical, and reproducible aspects of church and school that are being
done right. Here are three things I observed:
3
Spiritual atmosphere
It’s hard to define what that is, but I know it when I see it. To
see 250 teenagers engaged in worship is not only rare, it’s fantastic.
To see more than 20 decide for baptism and many more re-dedicate their
lives was even better. There is an elective class called “Praise Band.” This
is also a great idea that more schools should adopt. The teacher prepares
several groups of students to lead out in worship, not just sing up front.
(There is a difference.) These guys practice, set up, show up early, and
lead worship in fantastic ways. They know the why behind the how.
Today I pray for all the schools in our union. Adventist education makes
a difference, and it’s worth it.
1
http://gcachurch.org/
2
http://gcachurch.org/gca-church-video-what-we-are-about
Roger Hernandez is the ministerial and evangelism director for the Southern Union Conference (of SDAs). He is the author of five books, the most recent being Epic Fail, published in
2011. This story was originally published online as a blog posting for September 1, 2013,
on his blog: LEAD (www.leadsu.org). Used with permission.
1
Intentional church involvement of students
This church can best be described as intentional. Their mission
statement is not just a plaque on the wall. Their pastors of 12 years (committed ministers and terrible golfers) have led the church to live out the
mission statement. Most ministry positions are staffed by older members
who see it as their calling to mentor and train young disciples. Fantastic!
If you are reading this and would like to connect with a resource in this
area, they would be great to talk to. The system works. It’s not perfect,
but I haven’t seen many better ones. Here is their mission statement once
again; it’s powerful. “The Georgia-Cumberland Academy Seventh-day
Adventist Church family exists to capture the hearts and minds of young
people and develop them into fully devoted disciples of Jesus Christ.”1 You
can watch a video on the site that explains their mission further.2
2
Tenure
This is a recurring theme on my blog. As I travel throughout the
Southern Union Conference I see many successful, thriving ministries and
organizations that have one thing in common: long tenures. The principal,
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
3
Redeemed!
by
Vanessa I. Hernandez
us died.
Reading those two words on my phone sent shockwaves
of disbelief through my body. Gus was one of my best friends.
He couldn’t die. Not now. Not after the doctors said he would
recover from his motorcycle accident.
The day was almost over, and it had been a great one. I was on a
spiritual high that felt better than meeting Michael Bublé at a gourmet
buffet in France. My dad and I were attending a camp meeting in Florida;
he would preach and I would sing for
the appeal on Wednesday night. This
is something that we partner up to do
quite often. I had spent the day trying to
pick the perfect song to go along with
the subject of his sermon. After going
through several options, we settled on a
song by Barlow Girl.
We got in the car and started driving
to our appointment. I was going through
the final run-through of my song, and
when I finished, my dad asked me to
just continue singing other tracks I had
downloaded on my iPad. The next song
was one of my all-time favorites: “Redeemed,” by Big Daddy Weave.
Before I had reached the chorus, both my dad and I had reached a unanimous decision that this song would be the one I would sing that night.
“It just feels right,” my dad said with a contented look on his face. I
wholeheartedly agreed and had no explanation for this feeling and the
sense of peace that had washed over me.
After practicing the song a couple of times, I began to reminisce about
the last time I had sung it. My father was preaching at the Berean SDA
Church in Atlanta, Georgia, and he’d asked me to sing. In case you have
never visited or heard of the Berean church, one thing you need to know
is that it’s huge! Not academy-assembly huge—I’m talking 2,000 people
on a Sabbath huge. I was a bit nervous, so I called up my best friend and
classmate, Gustavo Ospina, to sing with me and help
take some of the pressure off. Gus was a very talented
guitarist and sang like an angel. He gladly agreed to
join me, and we sang “Redeemed.” God blessed us
that night.
Now, three months later, God had used the same
song to bless such people as the fragile, elderly woman
who grabbed my hand with a firm grip and said, “Thank
you for your music; it really touched my heart.”
“Thank you, praise God,” I replied with a smile. It’s
not often that I sing when I feel the Holy Spirit so strong
that it moves me to the point of tears, but that was one
of those times. I would find out the reason later.
I hadn’t seen Gus in a while because I had been
traveling, but only a few days earlier I had learned that he had been in a
motorcycle accident and was in pretty bad shape. The stress of not being
able to see him was almost too much to bear, but I felt encouraged by his
progress. The doctors said that in time he was going to recover fully, and
God hadn’t allowed this
tragedy at a time in my life
that I would’ve drowned;
in fact, He had securely tied
a lifesaver around my waist
before the storm hit.
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April 12
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2014
the day I was singing for my dad Gus was having facial reconstructive
surgery. He was never far from my mind, and I decided to dedicate that
night’s song to him.
After the service my father and I went to out to eat. During the meal
a close friend called me, and I answered by saying I’d call him back and
hung up. Just a few short seconds later he wrote me a text message that
would change my life forever. It was two simple yet devastating words:
Gus died.
At that moment the world spun out of control. My father saw my face
change instantly, and asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t bring myself
to say it. It couldn’t be true. There
was no way that my best friend,
who was getting better, had died.
After several phone calls we
learned the fact was undeniable.
He had died on the operating table.
My mind was on overload, and I
couldn’t grasp the concept. How
could a day that had only 15 minutes before been picture-perfect
switch to this black emptiness that
seemed to strangle the very life out
of me?
My dad drove me back to the
hotel and later that night came in
to comfort me. As I was sobbing in
his arms he told me that God had
a plan for that day. “He helped you
pick that song, Vanessa, so that you
would be able to have the strength
to handle this. He sent you His Holy
Spirit so you would have Someone
to lean on.”
Even in the midst of all the confusion and anger I was feeling at
that moment, this realization came
over me: I wasn’t alone. God hadn’t
allowed this tragedy at a time in
my life when I would’ve drowned;
in fact, He had securely tied a lifesaver around my waist before the
storm hit. In that moment of grief
and sadness my thanks went up
to God as I realized how faithful He
really was.
Over and over in the Bible it talks
about how faithful God is. This time
it became real to me. The loss of
Gus was one of the hardest things
I’ve ever had to go through, but in my darkest moment, there was God.
When you are going through times in your life, when you think the
waves and undertow will drag you down, cling to God and His faithfulness. Know this: He will never leave you. He already has planned the
solution, even before the problem existed. That is why He redeemed
you. I miss Gus, but I know I will see him again, and we will both sing
“Redeemed.”
Vanessa is a senior at Georgia-Cumberland Academy.
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
5
Gasping
for Air
by
Veronica Ponce
he room was silent. I heard the sniffling and whimpering of
my family. The harsh reality finally hit me, and my heart
sank. God had failed to answer my prayer. I did not dare to
take my eyes off of him. The once quirky, fun, and outgoing
brother I knew was now lying in a bed fighting for air. We all
knew it was going to happen. My abuelita* could not stand it any longer.
She went to him to give him one last hug. He pushed her away with
what strength he had left. It hurt him to be
touched, and he wanted to be left alone. It
killed us all to see him in such pain. Within
a few minutes it was over. We could do
nothing about it. He was gone. The ambulance came, and his body was taken
away.
One year before, on May 18, my
birthday, my mother and father took
my big brother Billy to the hospital.
They wouldn’t leave until the doctor
told them what was wrong with him.
He had been having severe pains for a
while. We had taken him to the doctors
many times before, and all they would
say was “It’s growing pains.” This time
it was different.
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April 12
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2014
My parents were sitting in the waiting room, expecting the results
from the doctor. After enduring six hours of agonizing anticipation and
helplessly sitting in the waiting room, my mom and dad were approached
by Dr. Solano. With an apologetic look in his eyes he said, “I have some
terrible news.” He proceeded to tell them that Billy had been diagnosed
with cancer. When my parents told the family, everyone was completely
crushed. At that point I was only 3 years old, so I didn’t understand what
was going on.
After he was diagnosed with cancer, Billy was always tired. He started
chemotherapy and lost all of his hair. He used to come home from school
and sit next to my bed while I was sleeping. The first thing I would see
when I woke up was him smiling down at me. It reminded me of a guardian angel. Even though he was always exhausted, he took the time to
play with me. He loved me more than anything, and I knew it. We were
best friends.
As time passed, Billy got worse. He didn’t have the energy for anything
anymore. I finally understood. He was sick. He was dying. I prayed to God
every day, asking Him to heal my brother. I had faith that each time he
went to the doctors they would say the cancer had disappeared. Then
the day came when we were all standing in that cramped living room
surrounding him, watching the breath escape him.
I told myself that I would never forgive God for letting my brother die.
I pushed myself away from Him and was very angry. I knew my brother
wasn’t suffering anymore, but God could have solved everything by taking
away the cancer in the first place. I held a grudge against Him
and cried every time I thought of Billy.
After thinking for a while, I decided that it was a good
thing my brother was now out of misery. In Revelation
21:4 it says, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain
will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”
That verse helped me through that time of anger
and pain.
Now, instead of thinking of his
death as a tragedy, I realize it is
somewhat of a blessing. I use it
as something to drive me. With everything I do, I do it to make my big
brother proud. Although he doesn’t
know what I am doing, I know that
if he were alive, he would be proud
of me. He is what pushes me to be the
best me I can be. You too can turn hardships
into blessings.
* “little grandmother”
Veronica Ponce is a ninth grader at Redwood Adventist
Academy.
Changed
Too
by
Willy Ramos
izza . . . m-m-m . . . I sure love me some pizza. From the
Chicago stuffed crust to the big ole slices of New York style.
I like them all. It’s hard for me to choose my favorite. It’s like
asking a parent of two or three kids which one of them they
love the most! I’ll even eat the $5 ready-to-eat pizzas. Man,
I don’t care! I remember how, in the hood, we would wait anxiously for my
father to come home from work on Fridays, like kids eager to open their
gifts on Christmas, because he always brought pizza when he got paid.
In fact, if there was ever a crime scene at the church, and CSI investigators were looking for evidence on the floor, I really believe that they
would find fragments of haystacks, veggie meat,
and pizza crust below the “Police Line Do Not Cross”
yellow tape. It has become part of every Christian
youth’s DNA!
Although we might smile after thinking of the
many great memories we’ve shared after our Saturday night programs involving pizza, I have a sad
and embarrassing recollection of the word “pizza”
as well.
It was 10 years ago, and there I was in the middle of our living room
with my hands around the neck of one of my mom’s friends, trying to stuff
a pizza slice down her throat and choke her lifeless.
She had thought it would be hilarious to give me a slice of pizza that
had fallen on the ground, as if I were some kind of dog. (It’s still no excuse
for what I did, but let me try to show you what God has rescued me from,
and how He’s changed me.)
I just stood there as though possessed and in a trance or something,
watching her turn purple. Two or three people had to wrestle me off of
her to the ground. Everyone was screaming at me to stop, including my
mother.
I looked at my mom that day, and her stare, like an arrow, penetrated
my heart. I knew for the first time in my life what the apostle Peter felt like
when he denied Jesus for the last time—at the very moment the rooster
crowed. The Lord looked straight at Peter (see Luke 22:59-61).
But in contrast to the look that Jesus gave Peter, one of pity and sorrow
with no anger,1 my mother looked at me with embarrassment and disgust.
That alone broke my heart. The Bible says Peter went outside and wept
bitterly (see Luke 22:62). I ran out and did the same.
Bendito, mami. If I got any regrets in life, one of them is making that
woman suffer. Even when I was born I caused her much pain; she almost
miscarried me and had to be flown in a helicopter to the hospital. Sometimes I wonder why I wasn’t named Jabez! The very name means “pain”
or “to give birth in pain” (1 Chronicles 4:9). And I think
my sisters and my brother would testify that I’ve always
been a “pain”!
I say that only to give credibility and honor to the
woman who is my mother. Move over, Linda Carter—my
mama is the real “Wonder Woman”! And she’s nothing
but a short, little, fat woman who looks like the penguin
from the movie Happy Feet and smells like the bug spray
Raid and the seasoning adobo mixed together!
But she’s always wanted the best for us. From the world’s point of view
my mother might be considered dumb or ignorant. She does not know
how to read, write, or drive a car. (She sure knows how to cook, though!
Man, her arroz con gandules can beat anything that Emeril or Rachael Ray
could ever make. Anyone who has seen my stomach can witness what
I’m talking about! Ha!)
The few things my mom does know how to write are the names of her
kids: Sylvia, Joyce, Janet, Papo, Lily, Willy, and Cuca. She also knows how
to write “God” and “Jesus.” To write Holy Spirit would be too hard for her.
Why am I telling you this? Not to further embarrass my mother, but
to tell you that even though some people might think she’s dumb, she’s
not. Because my mother was smart enough to introduce us to a Jewish
carpenter named Jesus. And it’s because of that that I am saved! Amen!
My hood had stuff
gangster movies are
made of.
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April 12
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2014
Photos supplied by author
Even when I was on the streets and I would beat somebody up at night,
I’d get on my knees and ask God for forgiveness because of the seed my
mama planted in me a long time ago.
I remember once some rival gang members keyed the driver’s-side
door of my homeboy Gigglez’s car while he was inside his girlfriend’s
house. They stood outside the apartments waiting for him to notice while
they drank beer and smoked weed.
It was around 1:00 in the morning when he called me for backup so
we could beat those kids down. (That was nothing for me. I once beat up
a football player simply for stepping on my white Converse sneakers. And
it was an accident!)
Tupac had a song that said,
“I’m down to brawl if my homies
call.” That was definitely our
motto at the time. So I told him
I’d be there. I got out of bed,
washed my face, threw on my
Dickies, and loaded up some
bullets inside the clip of my gun
to go blast those fools.
Then my mom woke up. She
asked what I was doing, and in
a rage I told her. “I’m a go smoke
somebody for messin’ with Gigglez!” I screamed.
She tried to stop me, but
couldn’t. Not using physical
force at least. She did stop me,
however, with what she said:
“One day you’re gonna end up
either dead or in jail if you keep
living your life like that!”
At first I ignored her, got inside my hooptie, and took off
faster than a superhero. I imagine I looked like a fat Flash! Ha!
But as I drove 45 minutes
to where Gigglez was, I kept
hearing my mother’s words in
my mind. They repeated more
times in my head than a latenight rerun of the George Lopez show.
So I made a U-turn, put the
gun back in my Nike shoebox,
and went to sleep. Gigglez understood. He knew what I was
made of, and deep inside he
really didn’t want me to go
over there and cause a shoot-out like in those old cowboy flicks.
My mama saved my life that night. My cousin Punky once told me that
“we are still alive only because somebody prayed for us.” And that makes
a whole lot of sense, especially growing up where I did. The locals called
it “Grit City.” I lived on Tenth Court in North Lauderdale, Florida. But it felt
more like a small Compton. It seemed as though the cops were afraid to
go in there. I really can’t blame them, though. To be honest, if I didn’t live
there, I’d be scared too! I remember one time some dudes barricaded the
streets with toilet paper so they could snatch people from oncoming cars,
just to jack them.
The police came out to investigate and ended up getting a big rock
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
9
smashed through the back window of their cruiser. Nobody got arrested
because nobody snitched. We hated cops! And we felt the cops really
hated us. We had the “Warner Brothers” network on my block: “Hey, yo, if
you see the po-lice . . . warn a brotha!” (Unfortunately, I can’t take credit
for that. I saw it on a T-shirt at the flea market.)
My next-door neighbor was the kingpin of the hood. He sold more drugs
than a Walgreen’s pharmacy. But we knew the rules. We never ratted him
out. One day, however, his luck finally ran out. My sisters and I were coming home from school, and the SWAT team had our apartment complex
surrounded, with guns drawn. Then a “ghetto bird” (helicopter) full of ATF
agents landed in the middle of our block and arrested him.
That’s the neighborhood I grew up in. I have enough material to write,
produce, and direct a sequel to Boyz n the Hood ! Instead of Mr. Rogers’
Neighborhood, Mr. Ramos’ Neighborhood would be more like it. My hood
had the kind of stuff gangster movies are made of.
I’ve had guns pulled on me, I’ve gotten jumped, robbed, kicked out of
my house, been in car accidents (one of them almost claimed my life, and
I have 26 stitches on the top of my head to prove it), and was stabbed with
a ballpoint pen some 20 times. But I have also stolen from people, and
10
April 12
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2014
beaten a few people up, too, in my lifetime. I also stabbed a guy multiple
times—with a ballpoint pen. And once I put a knife on a six-foot giant’s
throat when I knew I couldn’t beat him in a fight.
One time, at the movies, six wannabe thugs who were sitting behind
me threw a cupcake at me. I got up and slapped all six of them in the face!
(Not because they disrespected me, but because how dare they waste a
perfectly good cupcake! I could’ve eaten that!)
Another time, my gang and I went to a park and violated (beat somebody down for breaking a rule of the streets) a dude named Puff. Me and
my homeboy Feo beat him up so bad that we left an Adidas footprint on
his face. And all because he had carved our gang name on a table at a
local restaurant when he wasn’t a member himself.
For the first time in my life I could honestly say I felt God reaching out to
me that night. I felt the battle between good and evil being fought for my
soul. It felt as if I had a good little angel and a bad little angel on my shoulders fighting for me as we kicked him on the ground. Half of me wanted to
kill him. The other half wanted to stop. I did feel remorse, though.
Finally we did stop. And that was when I started to come back to
the foot of the cross. While Puff was on the floor, my mother was also
on the floor, on her knees, in our house, praying for me. Something
happened to me that night. I believe it was God starting to woo me.
I began going to church with my parents. Little by little I started to
change. But while the Holy Spirit was reaching out, Satan was also
trying to intercept His efforts.
The more I studied the Bible, the more I kept on drinking. The more I
went to church, the more I kept on cursing. Then I got bum rushed with
all sorts of trials and tribulations. I even got fired from my job. So I started
focusing more on my problems than on God. Then I started hating myself
. . . again, and I started hating the world even more. Satan’s plans were
working.
One day in a heated argument with my mom I pushed her by the face
so hard it almost sounded like a smack. Then I dragged her caveman-style
and locked her in the bathroom. My little sister called the cops, so I fled.
That’s how far gone I was.
Satan wasn’t going to stop until I was six feet under. So he whispered
in my ear, Kill yourself. Because that’s what he does. If he can’t do it, he’ll
try to make you do it.
Everything was in place. The gun. The bullets. It was nighttime. Everyone was sleeping. I felt hopeless. I hated myself. But, then, Jesus . . .
I could write a book on just those three words: But, then, Jesus.
For those of y’all who read Changed and 4GVN you know what happened next. (If you haven’t, check it out! Oops, I guess that was a cheap
plug.)
But obviously I didn’t kill myself, because here I am. Why? Maybe just to
remind you of how precious you are to God no matter what you’ve done. I
know it’s hard to believe. I still can’t believe it sometimes too!
But God reached out His arm and scooped me out of the projects, alive!
And now I am an international evangelist! The other day I was preaching
in Alaska. And a year ago I was in Slovakia. Me! A ghetto kid in Slovakia! It
feels as though I’m dreaming sometimes. Whether I’m good at preaching
or not is irrelevant. The point God is trying to make through me is that I
am the sermon. I am a walking sermon.
The fact that I’m alive when I’m supposed to be dead speaks for itself.
It speaks highly of a God who forgives. A God who has mercy. A God who
shows grace to all of us who don’t deserve it. And it reminds us of a God
who loves.
Yup. And you know what? He loves you, too.
And He has a plan for your life as well.
“Just think, you’re here not by chance, but by God’s choosing. His hand
formed you, He made you the person you are. He compares you to no one
else—you’re one of a kind. You lack nothing that His grace can’t give you.
He has allowed you to be here at this time in history to fulfill His special
purpose for this generation.”2
The other day I was preaching at a church, and my mama was in the
congregation. Even before the appeal song started I noticed that my mom
was crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said, “I just can’t believe
that you are the same person. I praise the Lord because He has changed
you.” She also looks at me differently these days. It’s a look of relief, a
look of happiness, a look of love and forgiveness.
So you know what? The next time I eat a slice of pizza I’m not going to remember the foolish things I once did back in the day. Nope.
Instead, I’ll just remind myself of how awesome our God is to save
and change a wretch like me. And just for that, I think I’m going to
eat me some pizza after I get done writing (wink, wink).
I’m going to end my story by giving you a challenge: I pray to God
and hope that after reading this story you just might end up being . . .
changed, too.
“Someone who errs can, if he wishes, find restoration.”3
Ghetto Glossary
n bum rushed: attacked
n 4GVN: forgiven
n arroz con glandules: rice and pigeon peas
n homeboy: close friend
n jack: steal
n feo: ugly
n bendito: poor; deserving pity or compassion
n mami: mother
n hooptie: a beat-up car
1 Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press Pub. Assn.,
1898), p. 713.
2
Roy Lessin, “Just Think.”
3
Lewis R. Walton, The Lucifer Diary (Bakersfield, Calif.: Aralon Press, 1997), p. 21.
Willy Ramos is a lay pastor at Light House Community Church in Altamonte Springs, Florida.
He’s the author of several books, the latest of which is Underdogs. Check out his ministry
at www.ghettopreacher.com.
The
Horse
Lesson
by
Sarina Hopkins
t was a beautiful sunny afternoon. I had just gotten home from
school and was debating whether or not I should ride my horse. She
had been acting up a lot lately, which made riding her feel more
like a chore than a hobby. I had been riding horses since I was 4. I
loved the feeling I got when my horse and I accomplished something we
had been working on for a long time, and I loved how riding took away
so much of my stress.
But lately my horse had been the cause of most of my stress. She was
a stubborn 4-year-old thoroughbred/quarter horse cross who had a mind
of her own. At the age of 12 I was trying to train her basically singlehandedly. Lately her training had not been going well at all. The worst part
was that when I tried to put her bridle on, she would fling her head up
and sometimes rear. I thought that I would be able to fix the problem all
by myself and that there was no need to tell anyone what was going on.
So on that sunny afternoon I headed out to do what I had been doing for
almost eight years: show the horse who was boss and never show a sign
of weakness. I got out there and started to saddle her up.
She was acting the same as she normally did, and I didn’t think that
anything was wrong. My mom came out to talk to me about my day at
school while I finished saddling up. It was time for me to put the bridle
on, and I went to get my helmet. I always wore a helmet when I rode. It
was an unchanging rule that I hated, but obeyed grudgingly. I had found
that it was easier if I put the helmet on before I put the bridle on, because
then I wouldn’t have to deal with my horse while I fastened on my helmet.
So I put my helmet on and started to put her bridle on. I got the bridle
half on, and then my horse started to rear up a little bit. I was trying to
calm her down instead of getting out of the way as I should have. All of a
sudden she reared up all the way, and before I knew what was happening,
she had landed on top of me.
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My mom was yelling and screaming my name. I ran out of the way,
threw off my helmet, and said, “I am fine, Mom!” Then I realized that I
definitely wasn’t fine. When I started to walk, I could feel bones moving
around in my shoulder.
I yelled to my mom, and she ran to the house to get my stepdad. I
walked slowly into the house. Breathing, moving, and talking were unbearable. My parents looked at the odd angle made by a bone pushing up
under my skin and thought that it would be best to take me to the hospital.
I was in so much pain that all I could do on the way to the hospital was
pray that everything would be all right.
We got to the hospital, and I had some X-rays. Sure enough, I had a
compound fracture of my clavicle (collarbone). An entire piece had broken
off. The doctor said that we could do a very complex surgery, or he could
place the piece back in my shoulder. We agreed that avoiding surgery
would be the best decision. So I was placed under anesthesia, and the
doctor moved the piece back into my shoulder. I went home with my right
arm (my dominant arm) in a sling with stern directions from the doctor
to take it easy.
I could not do anything for myself. The clavicle is one of the most painful bones to break because breathing, talking, and any other movement
also moves the clavicle, causing unbearable pain. I could not get out of
bed, take a shower, get dressed, or many other things without my mom’s
help. I couldn’t understand why God had let this happen to me. I was a
very independent person who liked to do everything by myself, and now
I couldn’t even get dressed.
And what was I going to do with my horse? Everyone said that I
should get rid of her, but my horse trainer, the one who had given me
the horse, said that it was my fault and not the horse’s fault. The doctor
said that I wouldn’t be able to ride for at least four months. I couldn’t
believe it! I had been riding at least four times a week for eight years,
and now I wouldn’t be able to ride for four months? I was upset with
God. I had things to do and a life to live, but I was stuck at home, barely
able to do anything for myself. And the things that I could do, I did with
much difficulty and pain.
After almost a month of being completely miserable and unhappy, I got
a reality check. One day I was outside looking at something, and I saw my
helmet. It was the helmet that I had worn when the accident happened.
I picked it up and saw that there was a huge crack in it. I realized that if
I had not been wearing the helmet, that crack would have been on my
skull, leaving me dead or with serious medical problems and possibly even
disabled for life. I finally realized how lucky I was even to be alive. That
was a big change for me. I started to focus on all the things that I could
be thankful for, instead of just complaining all of the time.
In doing this I realized a lot of things. First, the doctor who had treated
me at the hospital was an out-of-town military doctor. The bone doctor I
had to go see for monthly checkups said that he would have automatically done surgery and not even thought about the other option. Also, even
though the entire weight of the horse had fallen on me, I had broken only
one bone, when I could have easily died. Last, I realized that God had a
plan for my life, and everything happens for a reason.
Before my accident I had been super-busy all the time and didn’t have a
whole lot of time for God. But after the accident I could do basically nothing
else except sit down, which gave me a lot of time to spend with God and
study His Word. I read about people such as Abraham and Job, who made
the best out of their situations no matter what. This showed me that God
has a plan no matter what we are going through.
After I was healed up, I had a much stronger relationship with God
and with my family. I also got some help with horse training and ended
up getting a horse that was better suited to me. Even though at the time I
felt that nothing was going right, God had a plan in action, and He worked
it out according to His will. When you feel that nothing is going right, try
to focus on at least one thing that you are thankful for, and God will point
you to many others and show you that He is working in your life, and He
will continue until He comes again.
Sarina Hopkins writes from Clarkdale, Arizona.
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
13
Center
Court
by
Ryan Stump
t was a sunny Thursday afternoon when something happened
that would change me and my life forever. My personal basketball
trainer, who was hopefully going to help me get a scholarship, told
me and three other guys to play two on two
and show him what we had learned.
We were having a great time as usual when one
of my opposing teammates got the ball and drove
it toward the basket. As any good basketball player
would do, I tried to block his shot. I jumped as high
as I could, but wasn’t able to block it. When I landed,
I came down on the side of my foot and almost
broke my ankle clean off. I hit the ground hard and
screamed out for my coach. I don’t remember much
of what happened after that except for the fact that
there was a lot of pain. Besides that, there was one
other thing that I clearly remember. In my head I called out to God asking,
Why? Why did You do this to me?
Over the next few weeks following my injury I received more text messages, phone calls, Facebook messages, and e-mails then I had received
in my entire lifetime. I was still lifting weights, doing sit-ups, and almost
any type of workout that didn’t involve the use of my feet, but while I was
doing that, my thoughts kept drifting back to one thing: basketball. It was
my life. Nothing else seemed to matter.
Now, I realize how other people must have felt around me when all
I seemed to care about was basketball. I tried to keep my head up and
think about how God would work this out and how all things are for His
glory. Still, I couldn’t help wondering why He had let this happen to me.
Through this experience I have learned an important and valuable
lesson, however. Come to think of it, I should have learned it a long time
ago. There is a whole lot to be thankful for. When something bad happens,
such as breaking your ankle, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, most of
the things people say are the end of the world really aren’t. Also, I learned
that there is more to life than just a game and that my life should not be
centered on that game either.
Don’t get me wrong—I miss being out on the court and playing in
games more than you know, but I have also treasured the time I have had
away from it, too. I know now why God let this happen to me. He used
breaking a bone to help get me refocused on the more important things
in life and not center all my attention on a game.
I’ve heard a lot of comments about how my basketball career is
probably over and things like that, and I just tell people that I am leaving that up to God. Of all the things that I learned in basketball, none of
it will stick with me when I get old and can’t play the game anymore.
What will stick with me is the knowledge that I have obtained during
this period of time.
I want to get a scholarship and become a pro more than anyone I
know, and I can’t tell you that I won’t still pursue that career. But what I
can tell you is that my mind-set has changed. God is back in the center
of my life.
Ryan Stump writes from Franklinton, North Carolina.
When I landed,
I came down on the
side of my foot and
almost broke my ankle
clean off.
14
April 12
|
2014
experience
the birth of a calling
Take a sneak peak at your future—visit Union for free!
Changes
and
Choices
by
Maribelle Carpenter
ou deserve it,” I wanted to yell, but my lips were superglued
in obedience to my mother’s repeated demands not to talk
back to her. This hysterical woman, who had carried me in
the cocoon of her body and given me birth (which almost killed
her she had told me many times), kept blubbering about my dad
leaving her after 20 years of marriage.
An icy fist clenched itself around my heart. I rushed to my room,
slammed the door, and flung myself down on
the bed. I had no sympathy for my mother’s
pain. Years of being yelled at, punched in the
arm, and “trained up in the way that I should
go” had gnawed away any mother/daughter
relationship. The “me” monster inside was
concerned only with how I would be affected.
Bitterness wrapped its long tentacles around
me and squeezed.
Remember Humpty Dumpty? Humpty
Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a
great fall. That’s a perfect picture of divorce—a
marriage and family gone splat. Divorce rears its ugly head in every race,
economic level, and length of marriage. Even God Himself knows what it
feels like to be rejected. No wonder God hates divorce!
Sixteen years of life as I had known it were shattered into a zillion
pieces. My sisters and I no longer existed to my dad—no calls, no letters.
I felt disposable. We were left thousands of dollars in debt. I had to share
the meager finances of my after-school employment, and I resented it.
Mom “borrowed” the money I had saved for college.
I became totally immersed in school and church activities,
choir, youth group, teaching, and Christian friends to try to alleviate my pain. But all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
couldn’t put my broken heart back together again.
My dear grandmother said she would never accept Dad’s
“other woman,” but my dad was Grandma’s son. She loved
him with all of her broken heart. When he came home to visit,
of course, he and his new family were welcomed.
Isn’t that just like God? He always takes us back—no
matter how far we’ve gone astray. He still loves us. When my
dad asked for forgiveness, what should he have done with his
new wife and children? Discard them the same way he had
discarded us?
Then Mom remarried. That brought more changes and reasons for my bitterness to grow like gangrene. Having known
all the steppeople previously still did not make them my family!
Mother tried to win over her new stepchildren by being nice to them,
but she forgot that she needed to be nice to her own children, too.
I was uprooted and forced to move to my stepfather’s home. I no longer
had a room of my own. New rules and regulations were imposed. Our car
was shared with two more drivers. I was expected to “chip in” more of my
earnings. I clutched the dagger of bitterness, anger, and pain to my heart
until it festered, and I just about had a nervous breakdown.
The Bible says that the sins of the father will be passed down to the
third and fourth generations. Just as one pebble thrown into a lake produces many ripples, the selfish choices my parents had made affected
many others: my grandparents, sisters, all the
steppeople involved, me, and more. My wrong
emotions turned those ripples into raging whirlpools. My anger and bitterness were only hurting
me, not the people I wanted to hurt back. Just like
the Energizer Bunny, the effects of divorce keep
going and g-o-i-n-g and G—O—I—N—G.
Reading Psalms for comfort, I found Psalm
34:14: “Depart from evil, and do good; seek
peace, and pursue it.” What? I should seek peace?
I’m the one bruised and broken! Further reading in
God’s Word made me realize that although I had
no control over my parents’ decisions, I did have control over my actions.
God showed me that amid the upside down changes devastating my
life, I did have choices. Want the biggie? I could find peace by choosing
to forgive.
True forgiveness means not thinking badly about the person who has
wronged you and not mentioning it to them, or others, again. Why should
I forgive parents who had messed up, who had wrecked my world? Be-
I clutched the dagger
of bitterness, anger, and
pain to my heart until it
festered, and I just about
had a nervous breakdown.
16
April 12
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2014
cause God loves me and, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven me (see Ephesians
4:32). God’s ways of handling situations are not popular, and many times
not even logical. But when we try it His way, we are blessed.
God opened my eyes to the real enemy—Satan, who wants to destroy
us in any way he can. He destroyed my parents’ marriage, and he was
trying to destroy me with anger and bitterness. I asked for God’s forgiveness and His help. I made the choice to let go of my anger. I gave up
what I thought was “my right” to be bitter and resentful. I chose to accept
my parents—failures and all. I chose to get along with my new family
members on both sides.
I’d like to say that the demons of anger and bitterness never bothered
me again and we all lived happily ever after, but real life does not have
fairy-tale endings. My old feelings sometimes creep back, but God is
faithful and helps me through those struggles.
No matter what pain we may have to carry, we have choices. We can
choose to pout about it and have our own little pity party. We can choose
to get angry and bitter, or we can choose to turn
to God for help and praise Him in spite of our
circumstances. I have chosen to praise God for
His help and healing. It hasn’t happened overnight, in a few weeks, or even a few months. It
has been a s-l-o-w process, but it is happening. I know that as I follow God’s forgiveness
plan I am at peace—with Him, and with others. I don’t like the pain. I don’t like the consequences of the divorce. But I believe what God
says is true—that He works all things together
for good (see Romans 8:28). Even though His
definition of “good” may not be the same as
mine, I choose to trust Him.
Praise is powerful. Giving God praise lifts our
hearts above our problems. It frees our minds
from the chains that constantly want to hold us
in the pit of pain and despair. Praise helps us
to spread our wings and fly on the currents of
God’s love, care, and protection, no matter what
the circumstances are below. Perhaps without
pain our praise would not be as meaningful.
Even though my life could not be pieced
back together by all the king’s horses and all
the king’s men, the King of kings Himself did
it—and He can do it for you, too, but you must
choose to let Him do it.
Maribelle Carpenter (a pseudonym) writes from Indiana.
This story was originally published in Youth 97 in April of
1997. Reprinted by permission.
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
17
Till We
Meet
Again
by
Krista Jang
his is the last time you’ll see your grandpa,” my mom said.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I comprehended it. I didn’t want
to leave. All I wanted to do was stay by my grandpa’s side
during his last hours of
living, but I followed my
mom obediently as she motioned
me toward her. I got to see my
grandpa one more time before he
died. My grandma was torn apart.
It broke my heart to see her like
that because she was like a second
mom to me.
My life changed drastically after
my grandpa died. I usually cried
myself to sleep, and when I did fall
asleep, I had nightmares. I could
also imagine him walking to school
carrying my lunch in his arms. To
tell the truth, though, I don’t think I
was as good to him as I was supposed to be.
I thought about God then. I
was pretty mad at Him, because
He probably could have saved my
grandpa. I thought that God just
18
April 12
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2014
didn’t want him to live. One morning I heard my grandma on the
phone. She was sobbing and blaming God. She even said she would
never go to church again. I tried to comfort her, but it was to no avail.
She also stopped singing. Every morning I used to wake up and hear
her sing, but after my grandpa died she stopped.
As time passed, we stopped thinking about his death and
started to think about the future and when we would see him
again. I also began to realize that it wasn’t God’s fault he died; it
was a consequence of sin. I felt bad, and I asked God to help me.
I look forward to the day when all of us (my whole family) will
be reunited. I would like to go to heaven. It says in Revelation
21:4 that God “ ‘will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will
be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order
of things has passed away”(NIV).*
* Scripture quotations credited to NIV are from the Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights
reserved worldwide.
Krista Jang writes from Redwood Adventist Academy.
God
in the
to sing my favorite hymn. I knew this would be the perfect time to
slip past the people and out the pew. I gently shifted my weight to
one side and tapped my mom’s shoulder. “I have to go to the
bathroom. Now,” I said in a clear voice under the chorus of
the congregation.
She sighed heavily. “Fine, but don’t be long. And say ‘excuse me’ when you pass.” She quickly added, “Meet me in
the front of the church afterward.”
It felt wonderful to step out of the stuffy, still church
and into the fresh, vibrant air. I sucked in a cool gulp of
air and let the wind flutter under my skirt. My shiny black
shoes made a clickety-clack noise on the red cobblestone
sidewalk as I walked toward the bathrooms that were on
the other side of the church. I could see the steadily flowing river, which glistened in the sunlight, peeking between
the trees.
As I hopped up the steps, a cool, soft breeze blew up
the grassy bank and floated past me. I glanced down at the
last two steps and thought of how I could leap over both of them
like a free-spirited gazelle. I thought of the feeling of being free and
flying across the blue sky with the wind lifting me up to enormous
heights.
I caught my balance before attempting to spring up the steps, and
my muscles tightened. Once I was above the first step and felt my
body descending, I realized I had underestimated the length of the
steps. I felt the wind rush through my hair as I headed toward the edge
of the cement.
My mind went blank, and I squeezed
my eyes tightly together to block the
image of a sharp, rock-hard edge coming at me. Then a split second later I
felt a rough, burning sting shoot across
my forehead. The sweaty palms of my
hands struck the hard, cool cement
sidewalk, and I heard the thud of my
knees against the ground.
As I regained my thought process, I
felt burning pain rip through my knees,
elbows, and hands. Watery tears fogged
up my eyes and spilled onto my pale
cheeks. The sounds around me faded
out as piercing sobs erupted from my
dry throat. I looked down at my knees
through blurry vision and saw red
streaks of blood flowing from pink, fleshy skin. While I examined the
torn-up flesh on my knees and elbows, I didn’t realize there was blood
pouring from the side of my face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw red
liquid dribbling down my cheekbones.
I leaned against the cement step, which was speckled with drops of
Ordinary
by
Lori Covrig
as told to Claire Covrig
he soothing sound of my father’s deep, profound voice echoed
off the blank walls. The small, whitewashed room filled quickly
with his clear, loud words and the soft responsive mumbles of
“amen” from the congregation. His dark suit was framed by the
faded white wall behind the stage. This small
church was simply decorated, but it was still very
elegant. The gorgeous, bright stained-glass windows
along the side of the church provided an extra burst
of color.
I gazed up at the arched windows and pondered
about the delicacy needed to make them. The fragile,
thin lines snaked around and up the window, forming
pictures that were all unique. My eyes followed the
dark lines that led me to form colorful shapes, and
then placed in my mind a calming picture of Jesus
holding a little lamb.
My serene, thoughtful state was disrupted by
a rough nudge on my arm. I glanced over, and my
mother was staring down at me with an agitated, serious face. She whispered harshly, “What are you doing?
Stop staring off into space.”
“I was just looking at the windows. Don’t worry; I
was still listening,” I replied softly.
I turned my face toward the front, but I gazed off to the side, peeking
at the other numerous stained-glass windows.
As my father finished up the sermon, the rich bellow of the organ
erupted through the church. The congregation stood up as we began
I gently lifted a shaky
hand up to my forehead. The
wet blood seeped between my
fingertips as I felt around
the stinging cut. My hands
inched toward my hairline,
which was caked with blood,
to see how far the cut went.
20
April 12
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2014
blood, to lever myself into a sitting position. I immediately noticed the
red stains on my dress, which was originally a clean white with blue and
yellow flowers. My new dress is ruined, I thought to myself. The blood
is never going to come out! Then suddenly the worry over my dress
drifted away because of the burning throb above my eyebrow. I gently
lifted a shaky hand up to my forehead. The wet blood seeped between
my fingertips as I felt around the stinging cut. My hands inched toward
my hairline, which was caked with blood, to see how far the cut went.
My weeping grew louder, and my open
mouth allowed the salty tears to trickle onto
my cracked lips and dry tongue. While traveling down my face, my warm teardrops
mixed with the red blood. I grasped my knee
to see if the pressure would ease the pain.
As I rocked steadily back and forth, my vision was blurry and my mind was a discombobulated mess.
I felt a cool breeze blow across my wet
skin, easing the stinging pain for a moment.
It calmed my shaky nerves for seconds until I thought back to the nasty, deep cuts.
Would I have to get stitches? Are they just
small cuts?
After I realized I had been sitting on those
cool cement steps for a while, I called out hoping someone was nearby. “Help!” I shouted,
my throat scratchy. My whimpering was a soft
murmur under the chirping of birds and the
rustling of trees from a gentle spring breeze. My
nose was stuffy, but I could still vaguely smell
the blossoming wildflowers.
Then I heard quick shuffling of feet and a
worried gasp: “Lori, where are you?”
“H-Here!” I attempted to pronounce.
My mother rounded the corner with a distraught, nervous look etched into her face. As soon
as she grasped the gravity of the situation, her
mouth dropped. “Wh-what happened?” she asked
in a high, squeaky voice as she ran to my side.
“I tripped on the step. But Mom, that’s not
what hurts the worst . . . ” I paused and gently
lifted my hand up to the gash above my eyebrow. “My forehead stings so bad!” I said as I
squeezed my eyes shut from the pain.
Compassion spread across her face. “Yes,
it’s a cut for sure, but don’t worry, honey.” She
tenderly wrapped her arms around me and
softly swayed back and forth. I knew everything
would be OK from that point on.
God sent His Son to earth in human flesh for the very same reason: to save
us. Jesus came to the rescue. He died for our sake. He shows us who God
really is, and He shows us the unending love He has for us. He sent His Son so
that when we fall and hurt ourselves, He is there to pick us up, dust us off, and
hold us tightly to assure us that everything is going to be OK.
Claire Covrig writes from Andrews Academy.
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
21
Eye
of the
all week to see each other, and hear about each other’s
weeks, and just enjoy being together. We would go out to the
movies or dinner, and we had a blast helping out in VBS. But
that August our teens’ class teacher, a strong, creative girl
who really helped bring the group together, left for college.
We had a new, older teacher who was excited to be a part
of our group, and I was appointed as teacher’s assistant.
Our class had a few rough spots here and there, but our
new teacher always tried to come up with a good lesson for us, and every week he seemed to get better
at it. But sometime in December our teacher could no
longer make it to Sabbath school, and the teaching
job fell to me.
I’ll be the first to admit that they weren’t the best
classes, but I tried my best, and God always gave me
good ideas to share. That was when I began noticing just how
dark the sky had become. First it was the teens in our youth group drifting
away from each other. Then it was a Christmas play that none of us put
our hearts into, and soon after there was a lot of talking behind backs. A
new teacher was abruptly put in charge of our teens’ class, and it was becoming easier to see the sides that were being taken in this silent battle.
I won’t go into all the details, but I’ll say that those were very rough
weeks for me. I cried from every Friday night to sometime in the middle
of the next week. I couldn’t bear watching our
group disintegrate, but I had no idea how to fix
it. It finally came to a point in which I had to
accept that I couldn’t fix our group, at least not
on my own. It was during that time that I felt
as though I had lost everything. I had lost my
little family of friends, trust and faith in them,
pride in myself, and my dreams for our group.
I wanted something to stop the pain that this
collapsing family brought, but the only answer
that kept coming was to hang in there.
Then one Sabbath we were in class, and we
were looking up verses. Everyone was sitting as
far away from each other as they could, and no
one was speaking. As someone read the verse
aloud, my eyes fell on John 14:27: “Peace I
leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not
give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do
not be afraid” (NIV).* The words blew me away, and as I let them sink in,
my mind opened up to looking at this storm in a whole new way.
This storm in the teens’ class was awful, frightening, and painful, but it
was in God’s will. I believe God wanted to break us from old ways of think-
Storm
by
Liana Bethala
nless it’s a category 5, storms in Louisiana just aren’t that
big of a deal. We’ve gotten so used to this fact that it’s now
a part of who we are: we’re the bayou state, we’re the party
state, we’re the state that gets up after it’s been knocked
down. People across the nation remember 2005 for various reasons, but
for us it is, and will always be, Katrina Year. Our lives would never be
the same again after that hurricane. So many people moved away, so
many places disappeared; there was so much
helplessness and confusion everywhere. Nearly
eight years have gone by, and it is still an odd
week if something doesn’t ring a bell reminding
us of Katrina.
Seven years after Katrina, on August 29 (the
date that will live in infamy for New Orleans),
another hurricane blew in. Hurricane Isaac was
not as serious, it was a category 1 or 2, but it
still managed to cause some damage and ruin
traffic for about a month. For Katrina we had
a few short hours to evacuate to the hospital
where my dad was on call; we stayed there
for two weeks with the luxury of emergency
cots and cafeteria food. During Isaac, we were
allowed to stay at home, but had no lights, electricity, or air-conditioning for a week. It was awfully boring, but just about everybody was OK, and it made for some really
great stories afterward. However, when I went to church that Saturday I
didn’t realize that a bigger storm was brewing that same year.
Our church is small, and our youth group is even smaller, at most four
or five families. That didn’t matter, though; we were a family. We waited
God is the eye of the storm.
He is at the center of it.
At the center it is the safest;
the wind can be screaming
a few miles off, and the sky
could still be black, but at
the eye it’s like a whole
different world.
22
April 12
|
2014
ing and routines in order to make us stronger and better and closer to Him.
I know that that is His plan for me, at least in this storm. I didn’t think about
it at first, but now I realize how much I have gained during this storm. I
have gained new friends, both inside and outside of the church, and I
have gained a new respect and understanding for the people in my youth
group. I have gained more faith in God, the experience of forgiveness, and
the ability to stand up for what I believe in. Now God has blessed me with
a new position in church in which I can be a blessing to younger kids.
There are so many differences between Katrina and Isaac, but there is
one thing that they have in common. One time during Katrina my sister
and I were playing in an empty hospital room. It was raging, howling,
and raining, and we believed our home and schools and favorite places
had been flooded or destroyed, when suddenly the world became very
calm. When I noticed this, I checked the window and found that it was
still dark and stormy-looking outside. Confused, I asked my sister if the
storm was over.
“No,” she answered. “It’s the eye of the storm. It’s the safest part of the
storm to be in, and right now we’re in it.”
Seven years later I was reading in the living room when Isaac’s loud,
persistent wind died down. It didn’t look good outside, but I was happy
because for a few minutes we were safe in the center.
God is the eye of the storm. He is at the beginning of the storm, and He
is at the end, but most important, He is at the center of it. At the center
it is the safest; the wind can be screaming a few miles off, and the sky
could still be black, but at the eye it’s like a whole different world. The
only prayer that comes to mind is “God, thank You. Please don’t take the
eye away from me.”
And that’s something that I’ve discovered. We all have storms going on
in our lives, but God is always there, and He stays there. He is the peace
and the calm; He is the protection from all the evil and the world surrounding us. With Him we are strong, we are free, and we are happy, because
nothing can take away His blessings or His mercy from us. Nothing is too
hard for Him, and He is able to fix all problems.
I wish I could say this story has a happy ending, but the truth is storms
don’t have happy endings; the storm just moves elsewhere, leaving a lot
of destruction and despair in its wake—with nothing but recovery to be
done. I know it’s going to be a while before
the members of our youth group are OK
with each other again. But I believe one day
God will turn us not only into the people we
once were, but also into the people we were
meant to be. I believe that He is going to
keep us close to Him and heal our hurt and
pain. I believe that He will fulfill His promise
of peace for all of His children.
* Scripture quotations credited to NIV are from
the Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright
© 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by
permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Liana Bethalla write from Slidell, Louisiana.
i n s i g h t m a g a z i n e . o rg
23
The second thing we get from this passage is found in Luke
5:4, 5: “When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put
out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’
Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long
but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down
the nets.’ ”
Here we see that Jesus’ message is for anyone, even for
those in the “deep water” of sin. Deep water is like deep sin.
Fish are like lost people who need to be reeled in by us:
fishers of men. The deep is where no light shines.
Jesus is the light, but we need to bring people into
our nets to get them closer to the light.
One interesting thing we see is that Simon was
doubtful but still willing to try. I remember feeling the
same way when I was willing to go on a roller coaster at
Six Flags Over Georgia. I’ve been to the park many times,
but I had never tried that ride. On the Fourth of July I did
it. The name was “Acrophobia” (appropriately named after the fear of heights.) Just like Simon, I was doubtful but
tried it anyway, and ever since, I love roller coasters. So much
so that for my eighteenth birthday I want to go to the top roller
coasters in America! So let
me ask you, Was there a
time you were doubtful or
afraid of something, but still
willing to try?
Another thing we learn is
Fear, Faith,
Fish
and
by
Jonathan Hernandez
24
April 12
|
2014
Jesus can be shared
anywhere, with anyone,
and bless everyone.
Photo supplied by author
or my fifteenth birthday I went to the island of Roatan off the
coast of Honduras. Part of my gift was to scuba dive. We got
to see octopus, crabs, lobsters, barracudas, sharks, squid, and
hundreds of fish. Seeing boats, fishermen, and especially fish
made me think of a story in the Bible found in Luke 5. I learned
four things from this story and my experience scuba diving in Roatan. I’d
like to share them with you.
“He got into one of the boats, the one
belonging to Simon, and asked him to put
out a little way from the shore. Then he
sat down and taught the crowds from the
boat” (Luke 5:3).
The first thing we see is that a sermon
doesn’t have to be confined to a church, it
can be taught anywhere. Notice the place
where Jesus was preaching. It wasn’t in
an air-conditioned church behind a pulpit
with nice-smelling people. It was outside
in a boat, in the heat, with the nasty smell
of fish everywhere. One of the greatest
sermons I’ve heard came from a little old
woman in Guatemala on a mission trip.
She wasn’t behind a pulpit, in a church,
or even a pastor. She shared with me
how hard it was for her to have enough
money to buy food and how every week
she prayed for a miracle. Every week God
made provision for her.
the light of Jesus’ love into the darkness
of this world.
The last thing we learn is in verses 6 and
7: “When they had done this, they caught
so many fish that their nets were beginning
to break. So they signaled their partners in
the other boat to come and help them. And
they came and filled both boats, so that they
began to sink.”
It’s awesome to see that when we follow God’s instructions, He blesses us so we
can bless everyone. I gave my best friend
Ricky a plane ticket to Georgia from my
accumulated sky miles. I gave it to him so
he could have an experience that not many
people get to have, and he really loved his
experience. I loved it too.
My time in Roatan was a lot of fun. As I
looked at the fishing boats going out to sea, it
reminded me that Jesus can be shared anywhere, with anyone, and bless everyone.
that when you’re scuba diving in the light, the water around you is warm.
When you follow Jesus, your heart will be warmed also. In the deep it is
cold and black; not many vibrant creatures live in the dark. Let’s shine
Jonathan Hernandez is a sophomore at Georgia-Cumberland Academy.
real.solid.stories
CORNERSTONECONNECTIONS
APRIL122014
more than a job
Scripture Story: 1 Thessalonians 2:6, 9; 2 Thessalonians 3:812; 2 Corinthians 11; 1 Timothy 6:10-19;
Colossians 1:25-29; Titus 2:6-8.
Commentary: The Acts of the Apostles (or Unlikely Leaders ),
chapters 33, 34.
cornerstoneconnections
Photo by Tompaul Wheeler
27
keytext
“For the love of money is a root of
flashlight
“The indolent forfeit the invaluable experience gained by a faithful performance of the
common duties of life. Not a few, but thousands of human beings exist only to consume
the benefits which God in His mercy bestows upon them. . . . They forget that by trading
wisely on the talents lent them they are to be producers as well as consumers. If they
comprehended the work that the Lord desires them to do as His helping hand they would
not shun responsibility” (The Acts of the Apostles, p. 353).
all kinds of evil. Some people, eager
for money, have wandered from the
faith and pierced themselves with
many griefs.”
(1 Timothy 6:10, NIV)
cornerstoneconnections
what
do you think?
28
Regarding your career goals for the future, put the
considerations in the order of their importance:
____ How much the job pays
____ How prestigious the job is considered to be
____ Your parents’/friends’ opinion of what you should do
____ How much you think you would enjoy the job on a
daily basis
____ Whether the job would conflict with your beliefs
and standards
____ How many perks the job has (i.e., vacation
time, free meals, travel, etc.)
____ How much you can help people and contribute to your community
____ What you believe God is calling you to do
with your life
did you
know?
following
INTO
THE
STORY
“Nor did we eat anyone’s
food without paying for it.
On the contrary, we worked
night and day, laboring and
toiling so that we would not be
a burden to any of you. We did
this, not because we do not
have the right to such help, but in
order to make ourselves a model
for you to imitate. For even when
we were with you, we gave you
this rule: ‘The man who is unwilling
to work shall not eat.’
“We hear that some among you
are idle and disruptive. They are
not busy; they are busybodies.
Such people we command and
urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to
settle down and earn the food
they eat.”
he average U.S. worker will
change careers three to five times
in their lifetime.
John Krumboltz, a Stanford University professor, describes a phenomenon called “occupationism,” which he com“For the love of money is a
pares to sexism, ageism, and racism. This is where
root of all kinds of evil.
people will treat a person in a particular way based on
Some people, eager for
their job title instead of how well
money, have wanthey do their job or even what
dered from the faith
their character is like. Many
and pierced thempeople might even consider
selves
with
themselves failures next to othmany griefs.
ers with more prestigious occupations. This particular form
“ B u t
of discrimination oftenyou,
times stops people from pursuing a career they would really
enjoy because of the job’s reputation
(news.stanford.edu/pr/91/910528Arc1355.
html).
man of God,
flee from all this, and
pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and
gentleness. Fight the good fight of the
faith. Take hold of the eternal life to
which you were called when you made
your good confession in the presence
of many witnesses. In the sight of God,
who gives life to everything, and of
Christ Jesus, who while testifying
before Pontius Pilate made the good
confession, I charge you to keep this
command without spot or blame until
the appearing of our Lord Jesus
Christ, which God will bring about in
his own time—God, the blessed and
only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord
of lords, who alone is immortal and
who lives in unapproachable light,
whom no one has seen or can see. To
him be honor and might forever. Amen.
“Command those who are rich in this
present world not to be arrogant nor to
put their hope in wealth, which is so
uncertain, but to put their hope in God,
who richly provides us with everything
for our enjoyment. Command them to
do good, to be rich in good deeds, and
to be generous and willing to share. In
this way they will lay up treasure for
themselves as a firm foundation for the
coming age, so that they may take
hold of the life that is truly life.”
(2 Thessalonians 3:8-12; 1 Timothy 6:10-19, NIV)
OUT
OF THE
STORY
punch lines
“Similarly, encourage the young men to be self-controlled. In everything set them
an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness
and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who
oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about
us” (Titus 2:6-8, NIV).
According to Paul, how important is staying
usefully busy?
“He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone
with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in
Christ. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ
so powerfully works in me” (Colossians 1:28, 29, NIV).
We are told to “earn the food [that you] eat.” How can you do that?
Do you think that everyone has to be working at a paying job, or are
there other ways to contribute in different circumstances?
“We were not looking for praise from people, not from
you or anyone else” (1 Thessalonians 2:6, NIV).
How do you think that money can be a root of evil in your own life?
“Surely you remember, brothers and sisters, our toil and hardship; we worked night
and day in order not to be a burden to anyone while we preached the gospel of God to
you” (1 Thessalonians 2:9, NIV).
What kinds of financial responsibilities do we have toward each other?
eyes
other
According to this passage, what is wealth? How does God see wealth?
“The darkest day in a man’s
career is that wherein he fancies
there is some easier way of getting
a dollar than by squarely earning
it.”—Horace Greeley, 19th-century newspaper editor.
What should our priorities be for our futures?
How can we balance a good work ethic with “love of
money”?
“I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my
career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six
times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning
shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over
again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”—Michael Jordan,
American NBA basketball player.
cornerstoneconnections
“Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led
into sin, and I do not inwardly burn? If I must boast,
I will boast of the things that show my weakness.
The God and Father of the Lord Jesus, who is to
be praised forever, knows that I am not lying”
(2 Corinthians 11:29-31, NIV).
29
makingitreal
Sabbath
I
cornerstoneconnections
n Colossians 1:28, 29 Paul describes what
he is working for. Paul was a tentmaker by
trade, and he worked hard at his job so that he
could financially support himself and never be
a burden on the church members. Regardless
of his career that he was trained for, his passion was to tell others about Jesus. Paul took
great pride in his hard work, but he used his
career to further the gospel. Who would have
thought that tent-making could be used for
God? How could your career path be used for
God?
30
Make a list of as many occupations as you can
think of and next to each one write one idea of
how God could use that occupation to help
others or glorify Him. (Use the note pages in
the back of your study guide.)
Sunday
I
n our Bible passages this week, we see that
a good work ethic is incredibly important.
We should stay productively busy and we
should be contributing to our own keep. If you
are not able to work while in school, there are
ways to contribute other than financially until
you are on your own. However, we also see
that the “love of money” can cause a whole
heap of problems. How can you keep the balance: working hard and making money while
not loving money too much? What do you think
is the right balance?
Today, make a budget of your personal
expenses and your income. How can you make
room for God in your monthly budget?
Monday
T
he Key Text says that some people, “eager
for money, wandered from the faith.” In
what ways can money cause you to compromise your belief? Most of us immediately think
of keeping the Sabbath, but there are other
ways that our beliefs can be compromised for
money. Consider these options, and put the
dollar amount it would take to entice you to do
each one:
1. Lie to your boss about a mistake you made:
$________________
2. Allow your supervisor to believe that you
worked longer than you did:
$________________
3. Write someone else’s essay for them:
$________________
4. Stop volunteering your time at church or a
charity because work is too demanding:
$________________
Tuesday
A
s Mrs. White points out in the Flashlight
section this week, we are not supposed to
be simply consumers. In our society the
newest gadgets, the latest fashions, the nicest
cars, and the most up-to-date entertainment
news are seen as signs of social success. But
that is all consumption! God cares about our
productivity. He created us each to contribute
something unique and distinctive to the world.
Today, make a list of 25 unique things about
you that many people might not know. Why did
God give you these characteristics? (Use the
note pages in the back of your study guide.)
Wednesday
I
f you look at the Punch Line verses this
week, you will see that Paul’s focus was
never on impressing other people around him
with his excellent taste, wealth, or ability to
compete. Instead, he worked hard so that he
could show God to the people who had not yet
met Him. In Titus 2:6-8 he encourages young
people to work in such a way that other people
will never be able to say anything against
them.
For the following situations, make a note of
how you would expect a Christian to act versus
a non-Christian:
1. Someone ahead of this person in line yells
at the cashier for being too slow.
2. A mistake turns out to be the right thing
and this person’s boss congratulates her
for her good work.
3. This person entirely forgets about a major
assignment due the next day.
Thursday
C
hoosing a career is an important decision.
Not only will it affect your ability to support yourself, but it will also affect your day-today happiness. You must choose something
that you will love to do so that the 40 or more
hours a week you spend at it will be a joy, not
drudgery. In what ways can you witness for
God in your career choice? How can you help
others? How can you do God’s will? How much
has God factored into your choice?
___________________________
___________________________
___________________________
Friday
G
od created you to be exactly who you are.
He gave you your strengths and your abilities, as well as your personality, your looks,
and your preferences. God created you to do
something with the time He gave you. You have
a destiny, and your career is a part of that destiny that God created. Have you talked to God
about what He wants you to do with your life?
Have you asked the One who designed you
what He designed you for?
Texts credited to NIV are from the Holy Bible, New International
Version. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.
Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
this week’s reading*
The Acts of the Apostles (or
Unlikely Leaders), chapters 33, 34.
*Unlikely Leaders is a special adaptation of The Acts of the Apostles,
created for you by the Ellen G. White Estate and Pacific Press. Get
more information about it at www.cornerstoneconnections.net/
article/191/about-us/conflict-of-the-ages-companion-books#.
URlhF1rBO9s. By following the weekly reading plan, you will read
at least one book of the Conflict of the Ages Series each year.
Why I Attend an SDA Academy
by Shari Johansson
A
lot of people will tell you that they love public school. No rules. Freedom. Unfortunately, that was not my experience. My name is Shari,* I am
15 years old and have been blessed to be a Seventh-day Adventist my entire life. I am now a sophomore at an academy in Georgia, but my
public school experience happened last year. My first semester of freshman year I attended the local academy, and then I left to attend my local
public school as recommended by my psychologist and psychiatrist. I remember walking in on my first day feeling so lost, so alone. I finally made it
to my first class—late of course.
It seemed no matter how much I asked, people would ignore me or find it funny to send me to the wrong classroom! Fortunately, I had a class with
a friend I had met at Pathfinders. I was able to sit with her at lunch, and she helped me to the rest of my classes. But there was a problem: nobody
seemed to like me. I would hear rumors about that “new girl.” They would talk about the way I dressed and make fun of what I believed. But I am
thankful I was able to make a few good friends who helped me get through the year.
Now, I’ll tell you straight up that I prefer my academy over public school. I’m not going to tell you that Christian schools don’t have problems, such
as cliques or bullying, but I can tell you this, in Christian schools:
1. Problems between students, such as bullying, get dealt with carefully and quickly.
2. Being surrounded by people who believe similarly helps you grow spiritually.
3. Christian school surrounds you with God!
I can tell you that one of the hardest aspects of going to public school is that you are constantly surrounded by things that you know are wrong.
Things such as premarital sex, underage drinking, and drugs. But Christian schooling helps build your relationship with God.
If I ran a school, there would be zero tolerance for bullying, verbal or physical. Also there wouldn’t be any distributing or use of drugs. (In high school
I remember seeing boys sell chewing tobacco in the back of the room during math class!) I also would only hire teachers who truly cared. For me, the
teachers I had in high school didn’t care about one-on-one. But at my academy the teachers cared about my success not only academically but also
spiritually.
I would want kids to be able to come and feel safe, to know that people cared because I know that being a teenager is hard. And that’s why I would
have one more thing added to my school: God. I would want my school to be centered on Christ. Worship, prayer, Bible class. With one exception: I
wouldn’t want people who believe otherwise to feel as if we were shoving religion down their throats. My school would be open to questions. Sometimes
the older generations of the Christian community can be, let’s say, closed to questions.
Now with all that said, please don’t think I’m trying to dis on the public school system! But the truth is that being a Christian at a public school is not
easy. You are constantly being bombarded by temptations . . . and as teenagers we, to put it simply, are kind of depressing people. We feel the need for
independence; we’re rebellious and want to “stick it to the man”! We feel lonely, sad, like no one will ever know how we feel. But that’s why having a
Christ-centered school has meant so much to me. God has promised us so much. He has promised that when we are tempted, we can say this to temptations: “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all, training us to renounce impiety and worldly passions, and in the present age to live
lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly” (Titus 2:11, 12). When we are confronted with loneliness or bullying, God will say this to us: “Be strong
and bold; have no fear or dread of them, because it is the Lord your God who goes with you; he will not fail you or forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6).
There’s one thing I don’t want you guys to think of me: “Here we go again . . . another Christian teenager rambling about how awesome their life is
with God.” Wrong! My life with God has not been at all “easy.” So here we go, it’s story time.
Once there was a little girl named Shari (that’s me). Now, Shari was born into a pretty good family. Shari grew and grew, and at a young age she
decided she wanted to get baptized, just like her big sister. So at 7 years old she was baptized, not really knowing anything but her parents’ religion. Just
a year before, she had moved, and she was getting sad. This sadness consumed her. It picked at her every day until one day she couldn’t take it anymore.
Shari was already deep into her depression, so deep that she took many kinds of medicine. So one day she decided to take every single one of the
pills she owned and end it all. The one question she kept asking was “Where’s God now?”
But that’s not the end. She lived through that attempt. She spent her next week at a behavior health hospital. They tried to teach her things that
would help her, but she didn’t care. So she went home just in time for Christmas. But the jolliness soon ended. A few days after Christmas she woke
in the middle of the night. She rose from her bed, walked down the stairs, and walked out her front door into the rain. Once again she tried to take her
life. And once again she lived. And once again she spent a week at the same hospital, but this time she listened.
She left that hospital feeling good. But the devil hit again. Soon after her release from the hospital, her parents decided to end their marriage. And
still Shari wondered where God was. But she knew she had to keep going. And that is when her public school experience began.
Finally school ended, and Shari knew that she needed rest. She spent the summer trying to find herself. But she didn’t realize she was looking for
the wrong thing. Shortly after school started, she finally found God. It was Week of Prayer when she rededicated her life to God. And that Saturday she
was rebaptized. She thought that finally she would have rest. She was wrong.
Just a week after her baptism her parents signed the divorce papers. She felt hopeless. Why couldn’t her family just be happy for a little while? She
soon realized that this couldn’t hold her back. She had to keep going. The devil would not leave her alone. Temptation after temptation. Bad news after
bad news. She just couldn’t understand why this was happening. The end.
Now, I know it’s kind of a terrible ending, but that’s where I am now. And maybe you don’t think I’m in a position to tell you all this, but who better
than someone who understands—someone who’s been through it? I may still be searching, but I am further clinging to God’s promise: “For surely I
know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).
Can’t you see? You may be in public school. It may seem as if your world is falling apart. People make fun of you. They call you a “Jesus Freak”
because you refuse to do the drugs, alcohol, and partying. Nobody wants to hang out with you. In short, to them you’re a loser.
Or maybe you’re in a Christian school. You’re on fire for Christ, but it seems as though no one else is. Your once fiery heart is now numb. Nobody
seems to care, and you’re a zombie.
Yes! The answer is yes! God does hear you. He does see your suffering. Like the Bible says, He is the potter, and we are His clay. He molds us into
the best we can be for Him. We go before Him with so much baggage that we don’t want to get rid of. And so He stands there chiseling away all the junk
we pull around ourselves to try to keep from getting hurt or all the medications we take to try to relieve our pain. Yes, it probably will hurt, but believe
me when I say that God can do it. Wait, what? Aren’t we the ones who can do it? No! Guess again—we can’t do anything by ourselves. Why, you may
ask? Because ultimately we are all failures. We’re all selfish, stubborn failures. So when we try ourselves, we—well, for lack of a better word—fail.
What does any of this have to do with school? You may ask. And here it is . . . Drum roll, please!
School is for building relationships with God. The experts say that you choose what you believe in your early teens. So imagine it: a younger teen,
just beginning puberty, walks into a public school. What they see is drugs, alcohol, porn, the whole nine yards. It’s all there because it’s “cool.” Tell me,
what side do you think they will choose? Being surrounded by people who help build them up can help their way and your way—and my way—to
salvation. “Do not fear, or be afraid; have I not told you from of old and declared it? You are my witnesses! Is there any god besides me? There is no
other rock; I know not one” (Isaiah 44:8).
Seventh-day Adventist schools have helped me to get to know God and to build my life more strongly on the rock that is God. When the hard times
come, and they’ll come—trust me, you want to build your life on something more than drugs, alcohol, and porn. You’ll want to build it on God. He’s the
only thing solid and stable in this world of death, depression, despair, and decay.
*Not her real name.
Shari Johansson (a pseudonym) attends an academy in Georgia.