Brian Maloy

I was asked by my good buddy to speak in Chapel about the events of the fire, about how we’ve sought the Lord, wrestled through the unknown, etc. Below are my slightly chaotic notes from my preparation. Thought they might be worth saving, and sharing here too.

If you happen to read this, you’re getting the raw unfiltered Brian thoughts!

Outline:

• Introduce Myself — and PRAY
  • LOTR Quote:
  • From Two Towers:
    • Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
    • Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.
• I have to share something incredibly hard with you today — unfortunately there is not really means to sugarcoat it, so I will be honest — I will briefly share what has happened in my families life — and The Lord will remind us of His goodness, His faithfulness, and His sovereignty. 
• I should also say — thank you.
  • I don’t know even half of it, but I know among you, you’ve blessed us with gifts, you’ve encouraged, you’ve prayed for us. No amount of gratitude to you will ever feel sufficient. Thank you for being God’s hands and feet, thank you for loving us well. 
• Share the brief story of what happened on December 16 (the Monday of Finals Week)
  • Got home from school, took Sophie for an early walk (thank God).
  • My son Jack had an awesome day at school — so we decided to celebrate by going to supper. 
  • Looking back, I can see on the camera at about 5:10, us hoping in the car, and heading out.
  • At 5:22, I got an alert as we walked into the restaurant, that our internet went down (which was odd), now I know that is when the power was fried in our house.
  • By 5:30, I had a call from our sweet neighbor, in tears, telling me I needed to rush home — that there was a fire in the house. She and another neighbor desperately tried to get in the house, to get to Sophie, while I bolted from the restaurant, and drove manically home — praying the whole time for a miracle.
  • I got to the house by 5:35, and couldn’t get in the front door (which was busted open by neighbors) because the smoke was so toxic and thick.
  • I ran to our bedroom window on the back of the house, and proceeded to beat the tar out of it with a rock. Hoping Sophie might be hiding in our bedroom, her safe place.
  • When I had no luck, I went to the study, and broke down the sliding glass doors — which landed me in the ER that night, with a lot of stitches in both hands.
  • It truly was the nightmare you envision, completely hopeless, begging Sophie to come to the door, praying for a miracle, running back and forth — until paramedics and firefighters arrived and forced me away. 
  • Eventually Clara and my Mom brought the kids back to a neighbors house — mercifully they never had to see the house, the smoke, the flames, the horror. 
  • I remember standing there, rocking back and forth, repeating over and over:
    • If God is Sovereign in all things, He is sovereign in this… I clung to it. 
  • The remainder of the night was a horrible limbo, waiting for the firefighters to douse the flames, but mostly waiting for news about our beloved Sophie — I know she was a dog, not human, but she was part of our family. She was loved beyond measure, she would have been 4 years old this month. 
  • By the time we left that night, and went to my Mom’s house, and got the kids in bed by 10:30 super later, Clara and I went to the hospital, so we could sit in the ER at Mercy South until 3:30am to get stitches for my hands. Hopefully I keep the scars forever, I want them — I want my kids to know I fought, I tried to save Sophie. 
• Explain what we expect to come in the next year
  • Living in the in-between — we spent 2 weeks in limbo, my Mom’s home graciously opened to us. 
    • Clara and I were allowed in the house — there were a few items to save, but what was not burned was so toxic from very evil smoke — really, we lost everything. 
    • We quickly shopped for clothes, backpacks, water bottles, coats… 
    • It was truly survival mode — and utterly depleted.
      • Worn out emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally… 
      • Which I have learned, is so often when God speaks most to me, at the end of my ability… 
    • We found a rental house, a few miles from home, and right across from our church, and around the corner from Grandma’s house — given the circumstances, it is a tremendous blessing. It is totally like living in a weird empty AirBnB, BUT, it’s safe, close to familiar turf, and a place to land. 
  • The impact on my kids, our family
    • Grief is enormously hard. Everyone handles grief different. 
    • And truthfully, it doesn’t matter if it’s big or small grief — it hurts. 
    • It sneaks up on you, just when you think it’s “better”
      • Gosh, reviewing my notes last night, and writing down the fire timeline last night, was much harder than I expected — 3 months later, I thought I was doing well — and still, grief is there, we are still walking in that shadow.
    • I’ve heard it said with house fires, you truly divide life into two parts, before & after the fire. We are living in that reality now.
    • We are homesick — homesick for a home we cannot return to.
  • Soon — our house will be torn down, with 99% of our earthly belonging inside — and a new home will rise up in its place. It will be quite literally beauty from ashes (Isaiah 61:3).
  • Being less tethered to this world — unmoored in a manner of speaking.
    • I’ve always know we are “in this world, but of another”, and we live in the “already but not yet” — the in-between nature of following Jesus.
  • I know you all have felt this grief before. Don’t think because you haven’t experience losing everything in a fire that your grief doesn’t matter.
    • These things impact us, friends — 
      • not just physically, in this case losing our home, our place. 
      • But they also impact us spiritually, our relationship with God. 
      • They impact us mentally, in how we make sense of this, because we’re always making sense of the things around us. 
      • And emotionally, because the grief and the sorrow slips up on you when you least expect it.
    • So please do not think that this grief, because it is big, negates the grief, trials, and sorrow we all walk through in life. 
• So — how do we learn to walk in times of trouble, sorrow, grief?  Well I am glad you asked 🙂 
  • Night Walks, praying to God (like Sophie and I used to)
    • Psalm 23
    • Read it out loud — 
    • Difficulty — I would pray it out loud while walking in the dark at night. In the early nights after the shock settled, I really didn’t have words of my own to pray yet — I was overwhelmed. So I kept trying to recite Psalm 23.
      • The seminary student in me wished it was a more obscure Psalm (so dumb and arrogant), but nevertheless, it kept coming over and over in my heart and mind. So I prayed it, over and over.
      • V. 4 — I truly struggled with every time. I don’t think I was able to say it without choking back tears for a month.
        • (And that’s OK).
        • I knew in a way, I was fighting a spiritual battle, darkness surrounded me, I could sense it heavy.
        • Walking at night, alone in the nighttime darkness, and spiritual darkness, it truly pressed in. 
      • From those hard nights out walking with the Lord, surrounded by darkness —
        • I know that it is true, in my heart and in my mind. I think it’s exactly what my heart is longing for in this season. The presence of God with me IN THE VALLEY. I don’t need to try and bypass the valley, or talk myself out of it. I need to learn to walk through the valley, and walk in step with the Spirit, the presence of God.
        • We aren’t meant to go it alone, we aren’t meant to wallow, we aren’t meant to distract ourselves out of the grief — we are meant to learn how to follow our Shepherd, and walk in the valley WITH Him. 
    • But look at a couple of the other verses (we could spend weeks digging this Psalm apart):
      • V. 3 — Our Shepherd leads us into righteousness, because it brings glory to HIS name. I PRAY, and have prayed since the night of the fire, that somehow, we’d get glimpses of how God was to use this for His glory.
      • V 5/6 — Look how this ends, with abundance, with blessing, with goodness, lovingkindness (Hesed), with dwelling in the House of the Lord. 
    • This Psalm has changed me all over again. It has been a balm to my soul. It has reminded me of what is true, and right and good about the Kingdom of God. 
    • Abiding, making our home in the Word, God Himself — those are the things, as simple as they sound — that help us learn to walk in sorrow, but hold hope.
• The Practical 
  • Grief is different for everyone, big and small. 
  • I wish none of this had come to me. Truly — 
  • Learning to hold grief/sorrow in one hand, and hope in the other
    • We labored to create a home that honored God. And now we must labor to release it all in a way that honors God.
    • If it was worth loving, it is worth grieving — and it’s worth not skipping the grief, trying to bypass it, distract ourselves out of it, but to learn instead, how to trust the Lord, to walk with Him in our sorrow.
    • God’s goodness isn’t conditional — He is still good, regardless of whether I FEEL it or not. God is sovereign, He is good, He is faithful — always — even when I don’t understand.
      • Resurrection — Andy Gullahorn:
        • “Sometimes it’s like Lazarus, you come to Rolle the stone away, and watch him walk back out alive.
        • Sometimes it’s like my good friend Paul, breathless on the interstate, mother weeping at his side.”
  • I can tear everything down, is the foundation the same? 
    • I recently read a book on sorrow and grief (actually I’ve read 3 or 4), but something that stood out to me was the author saying he always wondered how he would handle tragedy — I think I’ve always wondered too. And hoped that I would handle it well, that I would not lost sight of the things of first importance. 
  • I can confidently say — for me and my family the Shepherd is leading us. We are daily, hourly sometimes, learning how to walk with Him in the sorrow, the grief — learning how to hold grief in one hand, and hope in the other hand. 
    • It is not easy, but it is good. 
• Finish by answering this question… (How do we learn to hold grief/sorrow in one hand, hope in the other?)
  • Do you ever catch yourself wishing some of the best stories you’ve heard (LOTR, Narnia, etc) were true? 
  • Well the stories are true, friends. 
    • Old is made new (Rev. 21:5)
    • Beauty comes from ashes (Isa. 61:3)
    • The Lord is our Refuge (Ps. 46, 91, 62, 9, 18, 31, 34)
    • His steadfast love does not leave us (Isa. 54:10)
    • The Lord IS our Shepherd (Psalm 23)
    • We who follow Jesus are a people who have a real, living hope — one that cuts through the darkness, comforts us, and leads us.
  • The stories actually are true — and with the Lord, we can learn to walk in our sadness, with a real living hope — because He is our hope, regardless of what comes our way in life.
  • I shared that semi-dorky LOTR Quote at the beginning – I feel that, I DO wish this had never come to me, to my family — but it’s true, we don’t get to decide that, we must decide what to do with the time given to us — and I will say it again, for me and my family, the Shepherd is leading us, and we are learning that real living hope exists in the sorrow and grief of life.
• PRAY