What to Do When Your Storm Strikes

CHAPTER TWO
MEET BILL AND MARY


The phone rang, and I checked the clock before answering. It was one thirty on a Monday morning. I picked up the phone, “Pastor Goodell speaking. How may I help you?”
I was greeted with weeping. “Hello,” I asked again. There was no response, only more sobbing.
In the background I heard, “Let me have the phone. I’ll talk with him.”
“Hello, Pastor, this is Bill. I’m so sorry to call at this time. Could you come to our house? Something tragic has happened.”
“I’ll be right there, Bill. Tell Mary I will be there. Do I need to bring my wife?”
“No, preacher. Just come.”
I informed my wife about the call, told her I would be going to Bill and Mary’s house, and I got dressed. The night chill hit me as I walked to the car parked in the driveway. I wondered what the tragedy could be.
As I drove through the city of Frankfort, Kentucky, I remembered that Bill and Mary had been childless for some years, and, by the grace of God, she became pregnant and had recently delivered twins. Bill and Mary were thrilled with the twins, and my wife and I had shared their joy. On our visit to the home, my wife and I had held each of the twins. I certainly hoped the tragedy had nothing to do with the babies.
I knew that Mary’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer and that her father a week later had a stroke. Perhaps the tragedy had something to do with her mother and father. Bill’s sister had also recently divorced, and her former husband had been stalking her. It might be that situation they referred to in this early morning call.
I thought, they have certainly been overwhelmed with many personal storms in their lives. I said a quick prayer for God’s comfort for them in whatever they were facing tonight. I also asked the Lord to give me wisdom in dealing with whatever I was about to encounter.
I pulled into the driveway in the new subdivision. Bill and Mary were excited when their loan went through for this house, and Mary had spent much time readying the room for the babies. She had told me that she considered the arrival of the twins a miracle of God.
I knocked on the door, waited, and soon was invited in by Bill. Mary sat on the couch, head down in her hands, rocking back and forth, weeping out repeatedly the words, ”why?....why?....why?”
“Pastor, come with me,” Bill invited as he started down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
I followed him into the bedroom of the babies. He pointed to the double crib. I walked over, saw two still forms, reached into the crib and touched the bodies, and found both of them to be cold and stiff. Stunned, I turned to Bill, who rushed toward me, broke down, threw his arms around me, and sobbed uncontrollably.
I allowed Bill to weep as I hugged him, and while I silently prayed for the grace of God for them at this time.
“Bill,” I asked, “have you contacted the police?”
“N-o-o,” he sobbed back. “I…I….didn’t….think…..”
“We need to do that now. There must be no delay which might cause suspicion. I’ll call the police…you…you…go be with your wife…she…Bill, I think she needs you now. I’ll talk with the police.”
SIDS was the medical conclusion for the “cause of death” the coroner registered. He even remarked at the unusualness of having two babies die at the same time of undetermined causes. The parents were cleared of any suspicion, but that did not make the death of the twins any easier to bear. This storm, linked with the other storms they were facing, was ravaging their lives with full force, and I could tell it was taking a heavy toll on both of them.
For the next few days, I offered them counseling and support during their pain. I worked with Bill on the funeral preparations. Mary did not even want to talk about the deaths of the twins. In her mind at this moment, it had not really happened. I told Bill to provide what support she was receptive to, but not to force responses from her. Let her grieve her way.
I stood at graveside with Bill and Mary three days later, and we laid the babies in the ground in twin small coffins. After the interment, I stood between Bill and Mary, an arm around each of them, and we wept together over the waves of sorrow that beat upon their hearts that day. The storms in their lives did not appear to be letting up.
I went to their home with them, and they had invited church families to come over for a while. Kentuckians bring lots of food to meetings like this, and the tables were overloaded with plates of food. I had brought over chairs from our church, and most of the friends stayed for about one hour offering words of encouragement to the parents, then leaving.
While this was going on, Mary received a phone call from her mother. The mother informed her that her father had another stroke and had been taken to the hospital. This couple was facing another intensifying storm in their lives, and they felt overwhelmed by the waves of adverse circumstances. The emotional flood waters were rising.
“Why is God letting all this happen?” Mary cried out to me as she stood there with the phone in her hand and fresh tears streaking down her face. I nodded to Bill. He understood and took her hand and led her outside to the patio. I called around me the people who were inside, explained the situation, and led the group in prayer for these two members of our church.