‘My Life Is in Your Hands’

I can't tell you how often people have said to me, "I wish I could believe in a God who cares about the details of my life, but I just don't see any evidence." These folks accept the watchmaker argument about God—that He wound up the world and then sat back to watch it tick. But if you've ever had any doubts about the sovereignty of God, then listen to the miraculous story of a prison inmate I'll call Tom. The story begins at the Oregon State Penitentiary. Along with hundreds of other inmates, Tom walked out to the prison yard recently to hear a Prison Fellowship program of Christian speakers and singers. Mark Hubbell, PF's area director for Oregon, stood watching as singer Kathy Troccoli took the stage. During one of her songs, Tom nudged Mark. "I just got divorce papers this morning," he said glumly. As Mark searched for words of comfort and advice, he suddenly recognized the opening notes of Kathy's next song. "Listen to the words of this song, Tom," he said. Tom was silent as Kathy sang powerfully, "My life is in Your hands, My heart is in Your keeping, I'm never without hope . . ." "That's right," Tom told Mark. "My life is in His hands. I just have to believe that." As Tom stood in that Oregon prison yard, believing that God's touch was on his life, he couldn't see what would happen just a few days later, almost two thousand miles away. Shortly after the Oregon program, I was in Chicago for a PF rally. Kathy Troccoli was again taking part. In the audience was a woman I'll call Pam, who had never attended one of our meetings before. But for some odd reason she felt strangely compelled to attend this one. After my speech, Kathy Troccoli again sang the beautiful ballad, "My Life is in Your Hands." As Pam listened, tears began streaming down her face. Afterward, she pushed through the crowd and approached Kathy. She told the singer, "Your song touched me more than you can ever realize. My husband is in prison, and I've been feeling so hopeless about our marriage. I've filed for divorce." Kathy asked her: "Where is your husband in prison?" "In Salem, Oregon," Pam responded. "I was just there!" Kathy told her. "I sang that same song. Your husband's name is Tom, isn't it?" Pam nodded, sobbing. The next day, Mark Hubbell's phone rang in Oregon. It was Pam, calling from Chicago. She explained the whole story. And she told Mark she was rescinding the divorce papers. Scripture tells us that not a sparrow falls to the ground without God's knowledge—that even the hairs of our head are all numbered. Yes, God is watching over the minutest details of our lives. So the next time someone tells you, "It's preposterous that God really cares about everything that happens," tell him the story of an inmate named Tom. You might want to call us at BreakPoint for a copy of today's transcript. Because God didn't just wind up the world and set it ticking like a clock. He's lovingly watching over our smallest concerns. And He's mending broken hearts and broken marriages.

08/17/95