The Deepest Pain

I knew my teenage son Zack was hurting, but no one knew how much

- Delilah

One of my favorite things about doing my radio show is hearing people’s stories. Every night, without fail, someone will call to wish a spouse happy birthday or congratulate a child who’s graduating. Then as their story unfolds, I realize that it was the whole reason God had me in the studio that night—to make that connection, to have that conversation, to share a prayer or piece of Scripture, to share a memory or song.

Years ago, when I was in my twenties, I went to a tiny church—there were maybe 50 or 60 members—where the minister, Pastor Mike McCorkle, preached a life-changing sermon. I asked him about it recently, and he doesn’t even remember what he said. I do. I’ll never forget.

He imagined that when he stands before the Lord, when he dies, he’s going to be asked two questions. The first is “What did you do with me?” Did you give God your best or just the scraps? Was faith just an afterthought? Did you put Jesus at the center of your being? And the second: “What did you do with the people I put in your path?” Every person you encounter, your family members, your teachers, your friends, your coworkers, even strangers, are put there for a reason. Did you honor them? Did you respect them? Did you take the time to get to know their story?

The conversations I have with my listeners are real. They know I’m going to be honest with them and they can be honest with me. Most of them know about the joys in my life and the deep sorrows I’ve had to face. None of which I could have gotten through without my faith.