Unexpected Grace

This weekend Bryan and I headed down to Buckhead for a Wheaton College alumni and parents event.  In years past we've considered going but have never felt like it was worth the time and money to actually attend.  This year, however, an alum footed the bill for the entire event, so we could attend free of charge.

Bryan and I both attended Wheaton from 1996-2000.  It was a wonderful experience for both of us, though we would describe our time there in different ways.  It's where we met (during orientation our freshman year), where we became gradually closer friends, and where we eventually fell in love.  I look on those four years as a genuinely blessed, truly deepening time in my life.  I loved Wheaton from start to finish.  It's where the most important relationships in my life began (with a few exceptions), and it's where God taught me to embrace myself -- no matter how broken, ugly, or shamed I was.  For Bryan Wheaton was a darker and harder time.  During his years there, he learned his dad had cancer, watched as his dad died, and struggled with an all-consuming depression.  But out of those hardships, the Lord deepened Bryan's heart, his dependence on God, and his already firm faith.  And out of the hurt Bryan and I were both facing during our college years, the Lord birthed our love for each other.  Our marriage began in the ashes of Bryan's grief and of my struggle to heal from some deep wounds.  Wheaton played a pivotal role in our love, our lives, and our relationships with God.  We are abundantly grateful for that place.

As we headed to Buckhead on Friday, I said to Bryan, "Are you prepared to be asked, 'How many kids do you have?' We're going to get it a lot tonight.  Do you know how you want to answer?"  We discussed it and came up with saying something along the lines of, "We have three, but our youngest passed away about 6 months ago."  Sure enough, we heard the question repeatedly.  I'd say we were asked no less than a dozen times.  The first three times I cried, but it got easier as the night went on.  Though I was prepared to get the question, I was not prepared for the kindness and compassion we received when people heard about Samuel.  I got a lot of hugs.   More than one person teared up, and everyone was gracious and gentle.  I had forgotten how very much I like Wheaton people! 

We sat at a table with younger grads, and I loved hearing what they're up to, what Wheaton was like for them, and how they are doing in life post-college.  It was rich conversation, and I loved it.  There is something about the shared bond of having gone to Wheaton -- and more importantly, the shared bond of knowing and loving Christ.  It was easy to talk to these strangers and to feel like they were friends. 

After dinner, Bryan and I went up to talk to Dr. Litfin, the soon-to-be retired President of Wheaton College.  While we were waiting to talk to him, some 1980 grads stopped us to chat.  One of the couples attends North Point, our church and where Bryan works.  When they asked about our kids and heard our answer about Samuel, they were so tender with us.  They spoke about suffering and hurt, about how hard it must be for us, about how sorry they are for our loss.  But most significantly, they circled around us and prayed for us.  It was a prayer we needed and touched us deeply.  One of the things Phil Tuttle prayed was that we would continually come to their minds that they might keep praying for us.  I was so moved by that request -- that they would want to remember some strangers with a heartbreaking story, so they could continually pray for us.  Just typing about it has a huge lump in my throat. 

When we finally got a chance to speak to Dr. Litfin, it was a more blessed conversation than I could have anticipated.  Bryan simply expressed thanks for his leadership of Wheaton and told him that though Wheaton was a hard time in his life, it was a time of rich growth and God's goodness.  Dr. Litfin immediately honed in on the "hard time" comment and asked how it was hard.  When he heard about Bryan's dad, he was so kind and thoughtful.  Then in talking about Dallas Theological Seminary (where Bryan takes satellite classes, Dr. Litfin attended and taught, and my dad was once a professor), I asked if he knew my dad, and after a few questions, he learned about my dad's affair and the subsequent divorce of my parents.  He quickly asked, "How has that been for you as your dad's daughter?  Are you ok?  What has that been like?"  A few minutes later he put his arms around us and said, "You two sure have been through a lot!" to which I said, "and you don't know the worst of it!"  When he heard about Samuel, he started crying and shared a story with us about suffering and God's presence in it.  He told us about his daughter who, in 1972, was born 3 months early.  The doctors told him she most likely would not survive and if she did, she would be severely brain-damaged.  She is now grown up and healthy and a graduate of Wheaton.  He sympathized with us in our pain and shed tears with us.  I cannot tell you how much this meant to us or how blessed we felt by it. 

When we left we both said what an unexpectedly wonderful evening it was and how we will make every effort to attend in future years.  On the drive to the event, Bryan had prayed that we would somehow be able to encourage others, but it hadn't occurred to us that instead we would walk away uplifted and so gently cared for.  The night was a blessing and another picture of our Heavenly Father's tender love for us.  Now we have another reason to be thankful for Wheaton College.