The Shadow of Death

During my husband’s sermon last Sunday, he used Psalms 23:4 as one of his Scripture references. He read, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

Raised in a Christian home, I’ve read and heard this verse hundreds of times. This time it spoke to me like never before, especially the part "walk through the valley of the shadow of death…"

When I think of a shadow, I think of darkness, fear, coldness, chills, death, and evil. I picture myself cringing and looking for a place to hide. I’ve always hated darkness. As a child, I dreaded my parents turning off my bedroom light at bedtime because I feared seeing the shadows on my wall.

The word shadow also brings to mind a time during my late teen years while fighting God’s future plans for my life. One night before falling asleep, I looked toward the doorway of my bedroom and saw a huge, dark figure there. It frightened me so badly that I screamed. A friend staying with me at the time suddenly sprang from the bed demanding to know what happened.

"I saw a huge, black shadow in the doorway," I cried pulling the covers over my face.

"Cindy, there’s nothing in the doorway," she said dropping back into bed.

To this day, my friend teases me about this incident, but I know what I saw and the terror I felt. That frightening shadow shrinks in comparison to the shadow I’ve experienced recently. With the deaths in our family and church in the last five months, I’ve definitely walked through the shadow of death. In fact, I’m not quite through walking yet.

Death causes the most frightening shadow because it renders us helpless. We walk through many struggles in life but this one totally overwhelms us.

Sadly, people tend to unintentionally say the wrong words, do the wrong deeds, and treat us the wrong way during and after the death of a loved one. Our only true Helper, Jesus Christ walks through this shadow with us comforting us as only He can.

Psalm 107:13-14 strengthens me, "Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom and broke away their chains."

Cry to the Lord and wait on Him to help you out of death’s darkness and gloom. Only He can break away the chains of sadness bringing hope once again.

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Strange Day in April

The sun shone through my window when I awakened that beautiful Spring day. I heard my mother in the kitchen fixing breakfast. The smell of bacon, eggs and toast filled the house.

"Cindy, Paul, it’s time to get up! Breakfast is ready. Hurry, we have to get ready for church," she yelled.

The date, Palm Sunday, April 11, 1965 and I was eight years old. We lived four miles from Marion, Indiana across the road from the church we attended, Hanfield United Methodist.

After breakfast, my Dad said, "It’s so nice out today, Evelyn. Let’s have a picnic."

We picnicked under our maple tree with friends after church. When we finished lunch, the adults talked while we played hide-and seek. The day remained peaceful and calm.

"You know, it’s strange how calm it is today, no breeze at all" commented my father.

"You’re right. This is tornado weather" said my father’s friend.

Not long after our friends left, it sprinkled a little, but still no breeze. As we walked to the evening service, we noticed how black the sky looked. In fact, by the time our pastor stood to preach, the church lighting dimmed making it difficult to see.

Suddenly the wind picked up becoming louder and stronger, it shook the building. The minister kept preaching even though we barely heard him.

A softball-sized hailstone crashed throught the window hitting my father in the arm. Soon they were coming at us from everywhere. The minister continued to preach until the lights shut off. He then directed everyone to the basement.

Since we lived nearby, we walked home. Crossing the road proved more difficult then anticipated. Besides the hailstones, other objects flew at us. I protected my head wth one hand and held onto my parents with the other. Dad and Mom sandwiched Paul and me between them, fearing the strong wind might take us with it.

When we reached our home, Dad immediately turned on the transistor radio. A tornado hit three miles from us and then traveled throughout Marion. The shopping center roof blew off, houses were destroyed, many people were hurt, and several died. Our area experienced the tail end of the tornado.

The next day Dad returned from town with many stories. Two of these stories fascinated me. A woman walked up to a man to ask for help. When he looked at her he saw a thick piece of straw protruding from both sides of her head just above her ears. He took her to the hospital and she miraculously lived.

Another story concerned a family of four. The father walked to the basement to get something. The mother heard the tornado announcement on the radio. Fearing there wasn’t time to reach the basement, she and the children laid on the floor.

After the storm, the father ran up the stairs yelling for his family, but not expecting an answer. He heard a quiet voice say, "We’re over here, Daddy." The father unrolled a large rug where he found his family completely unharmed.

With everyone working together, buildings and houses were re-built or repaired and the city returned to normal in a short time. Palm Sunday of 2006 marked 41 years since that tornado.

What an adventure this was for me. I’ll never forget that strange day in April.


What are your thoughts about this story? Have you ever experienced a life-threatening event like this one? How did God protect you?