God with us …

Some of us still haven’t heard about the story of Jon Francis.  Jon, originally recruited from Augustana College, Sioux Falls, SD (now his alma mater), and in his fourth year on staff at Luther Heights’ Bible Camp, disappeared on his day off, Saturday, July 15th.  Jon had crossed Redfish Lake near Stanley, Idaho on a boat expressing his fond desire to scale the rugged Grand Mogul (elevation 9,733) by himself and then return to Bible Camp around 5 p.m. that same day.  Jon, a cross-country runner and fit climber, made the ascent and signed the date, the places he now called home (LHBC and Provo, UT) where he was counselor and youth director, respectively.  And then he disappeared.  That’s all we know.

Since his disappearance a major effort by family, friends, professionals and amateurs has combed he mountain on foot and air with the assistance of dogs and even military technology.  The helpful people at Redfish Lodge have commented that they have never seen a search on such a scale and with such organization and dedication. 

I became involved after a heart-touching call by Pastor Eric Olsen, director of LHBC.  Eric called Sunday evening explaining Jon’s disappearance and asked if I would join other pastors in providing support for the staff at Luther Heights if he was not found.  On Wednesday morning I went to Luther Heights and joined other pastors as we shared in the sadness, frustration, prayers and hopes of all.   Later that day I drove out to Redfish Lake to meet the family.   The father immediately said, “I have a place for you.  Can you stay?”  At that point I joined the team.  During the following days I was touched by the spirit of those who had come from near and far to help out.  A young teenager saw one of the “missing” posters put around the Redfish Lodge area and compelled his family of five, on vacation, to join the search party.  They spent a hot day combing local trails that Jon might have used.  Like other teams they kept calling out, “Jon,”  “Jon!”  and then listened.  I helped the father of this family comb a steep slope.  Neither he nor his family complained.  They even encountered a black bear towards the end of their search (which ambled off after the father furiously blew on a whistle!).

Can you imagine the feelings of Mom and Dad, sisters and in-laws and friends who knew and loved Jon?   When I returned to prepare for Sunday worship with our members at OSL, I felt a little like stretched silly putty emotionally.  On Sunday morning I just told the story of Jon, seeking to bring out in the scriptures how God walks with us through the consequences of our decisions and accidents, too.   I had seen God at work in the spirit of so many persons all focused, like good shepherds, on finding one precious sheep.  And though I felt more like a basket case, I received so much support from our own members who cried, shared, hugged and well … were the body of Christ for me. 

Through this past week I have seen again how powerful the love, compassion and determined care of God is when something awful happens.  Yes, it’s been humbling to see how a healthy life can be turned around so quickly and yet it’s been inspiring to see those things that really matter come fully alive.   Care givers and searchers weren’t queried on their religious preference, race or past.  Only their physical capabilities were suitably matched to the search terrain.  Though their “baskets” varied, their loving Spirit was the same.

This last Sunday I asked our members to pray as I returned with my wife to meet with family at Redfish Lake.  As we arrived, the last organized search party was returning from the mountain.  The National Guard communications vehicle was closing down its command station.  People were hungry, thirsty and tired.  A wiry search dog sat panting at the feet of a parks’ employee.  People ate and the mood was subdued. 

Then we sat to share words.  We remembered Jon and his inspiration, an inspiration which had been echoing in all the hearts of those who came to search for him and care for the family.  We thanked God for the good Spirit that had protected and sustained all in the search.  We knew that Jon was in God’s hands and that if he died, he died doing what he loved.  Jon’s father commented that his heart had been ripped out of him but that he knew that God was there to hold it and all of us together.  Tears flowed.  We were there for each other and God was right there in our midst.

What is there to learn from such an event?  Don’t hike alone?  Carry a rescue transmitter?  Maybe.  But in all the speculation, questions and wonderings, heads have come in second place to hearts.  It really doesn’t matter.  We are all mortal and yet it is the love we share for each other that matters most. Our hearts have softened and our embraces deepened. God is very near where it counts, calls us precious and teaches us the truth and value of love.  Through enormous pain we are reborn for our own good and that of others.

Thank you for your prayers for the family of Jon Francis (David and Linda, parents).  Their family e-mail is: <please send the email to our office manager and she will forward it> .  I know they would love your expressions of compassion and concern.  On David Francis’ personal business card which he gave me, are the printed words, “We can do better.”  After the past week I can only say, “Yes, with God this is true.”  I’m so thankful that God didn’t wait for us to figure that out.  We came and were embraced by that Love.  The message of the cross is again affirmed.  God does the “impossible” by again bringing life into loss, compassion into sadness.  Each of us does matter.   God needs us because we are not meant to bear it alone.