God's Faithfulness – Kayley Chartier

He’s in the boat: On doubting Jesus, cancer, and river rafting

Ten years ago my dad took my sister and I to a little Mexican restaurant on the side of the road to break the news. Mom had been in the hospital a few days. There were tests, and the tests came back; bad news. A lot of that month is a blur for me, but my mom can recount the events with such clarity, no surprise there. I struggled then to understand her peace in the moment. This was stage IV cancer, for crying out loud! Ten years on, and a little further down the road in my own walk with the Lord, I understand her a little more only because I know Jesus a little more.

This is the original scan of mom’s tumor. We remarked the black cross drawn across the length of it as an accidental symbol of hope—but is anything accidental with God? No. 🙂

For instance, I know Him as the one who has provided, and is still providing, very, very expensive cancer medication. We’re talking medication worth thousands of dollars–sometimes as much as $16,000 for a single dose. And even though insurance has tried to cancel coverage many times, it always comes through. That’s Jesus.

I also know Him as the one who sends the right person at the right time to call or text or visit. In the early days, one dear friend who has since gone to be with Jesus intended only to stop by to drop off some soup mix. She stayed and ended up providing so much more with her gift of company and community. That’s also Jesus.

What sticks out to me most has been watching my mom’s trust in Jesus has grown. My mom is famous in our family for stopping in a store and talking to a woman for about 5 minutes, finding out that she is currently battling cancer, and then praying for her on the spot. I think God keeps sending her these people because He knows she’s not ashamed to tell them about what He’s done for her. I’ve witnessed this kind of organic, on-the-spot ministry dozens of times. That’s the work of Jesus in her being used to serve others.

Failure to trust

This week marks 10 years since our family was shaken, broken, challenged, and yet changed by God’s utter faithfulness. And with so many tangible examples of the goodness of God to my mother alone, you’d think I’d never struggle to trust God again for anything.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Because although I still have my mom, so much is uncertain and there is much to lose. I have a husband who wants to work a dangerous field, and I have hopes for the future I’m worried won’t be realized. The political climate is more tense than ever, and the “wars and rumors of wars”¹ Jesus mentions in Matthew don’t feel so literary anymore. I read stories of tragedy and pain weekly, if not daily. Sometimes I feel ashamed that my heart is so heavy, inwardly asking, where is God in this mess?

Maybe you’ve asked God the same thing.

Gently down the stream?

This photo kills me. The rapid was called Troublemaker: a class III-ish rapid on the South Fork of the American river. We are getting thrashed and this dude in the background is just chilling, unbothered. 😂

A few weeks ago, we took our youth group to a climbing, camping, canyoneering, and rafting adventure camp. It was the kind where you sleep on the ground, drink water out of a little tin cup at dinner, and get to be unburdened by emails and cell phones and other modern annoyances.

I was excited to take another fun and meaningful trip with the students, but I’m not exaggerating when I say that I have never been so incredibly scared to do something in my life, specifically the river rafting. I’m not a strong swimmer. Water in general freaks me out. I think this summer I jumped off of my grandma’s diving board for the 5th time in my entire life. But fears must be faced, and Jesus can be trusted; what better way to face them than with the group I’m constantly telling to trust in Jesus?

The night before we rafted was hotter than hot, but that’s not why I wasn’t sleeping. I pulled my towel up over my head and pulled out my forbidden cell phone. The glow of the screen hurt my eyes as I clumsily typed into the search bar,

storiiies of christiaans with anxiety whit water rafting

I couldn’t believe it when a podcast link came up. Not only was the podcaster a Christian–she had just rafted the exact parts of the river my group was about to do! I lay on top of my bag and listened to the episode probably 6 times before I drifted off. Did I mention that that episode came out the day before we left on our trip? Or that that podcast’s usual content has nothing to do with rafting?

Yeah Jesus, I see you. That’s the first way I saw his faithfulness that week.

Peace like a river

The second way was on the river itself. On day one, we rafted the South Fork of the American, and day two was the famous Middle Fork, home of several well-known class IVs.

Day one panned out to be much more relaxed than I had anticipated. The water wasn’t terribly rough, and I knew that the stakes weren’t as high as they would be on the Middle Fork. I texted family from my sleeping bag the night before to pray, specifically for a fairly technical rapid called Tunnel Chute, which is famous for dumping rafters into the white water.

On day two, we stood atop the cliff overlooking the Tunnel Chute rapid to discuss things like paddling technique and safety measures, what to do if we fell out, and how many times to sing “Happy Birthday” if the river punched us into the deep hole at the base of the falls. Weirdly enough, I felt peace come over me, even though I had been shaking with fear minutes before. It occured to me how strange it is that scripture describes the peace of God like a river, because the water below me looked angry.²

We entered the boat. Our guide reviewed the commands one more time: right, left, forward, high side, get down. My boss Steve encouraged me to keep my eyes open– and man am I glad I did. It felt like only seconds of rowing in sync had gone by before we were instructed to get down and hold on, our guide still standing in the back working his tail off with his paddle. We dropped down the falls fast, the water roaring on all sides. Cold water washed over our heads. Suddenly the right side of the raft started to come up and I was sure we’d tip, but we didn’t. Out of the four rafts in our group, not a single person fell out. With shouts ringing off the tunnel walls, our boat shot down to the bottom of the falls in a nearly flawless run.

“That’s my first clean run of the season,” our guide admitted later with a laugh.

He’s in the boat

I think the best part of the trip was not even the thrill of the rapids themselves–although I still see tackling the class IVs as the coolest thing I have ever done. My favorite thing was learning how to trust the guide.

For example, I knew that the guide’s job was to direct us in the safest direction possible, but didn’t expect that to be smack-dab in what looked like the craziest part of the water. If we were moving forward, backwards, or even spinning in circles, our job was to do exactly as the guide said. If he said to paddle right, we paddled right. If he said to get down, we wedged our feet in and dropped to the bottom of the boat.

Yes, we were at the mercy of the river, and some rapids were more technical and had “more consequences” than others, but we also had an excellent guide who was trained to read the water and lead us in safety.

And he was in the boat with us.

My heart was overwhelmed as I realized how much closer Jesus is to me in life, whether the water is rough or smooth as glass.

“It is I. Don’t be afraid”

Matthew 14:22-33

Jesus and Peter on the Water by Gustave Brion, 1863

Matthew’s account of Peter walking out to Jesus on the water is usually told with the takeaway that if we keep our eyes on Jesus and not on the waves, the waves in life will not overtake us. I think my rafting trip helped me to see the story a little bit differently.

First of all, we know that Jesus was not afraid of the waves because He created them. He knew that He had authority over all of creation; Jesus was perfectly safe there.

After scaring the living daylights out of the disciples by walking, phantom-like, across the stormy waters in the middle of the night, Jesus calls Peter out onto the water with him. I think it’s important to note that the wind didn’t die down here. The external dangers didn’t just go away in the presence of Jesus.

In verse 30, it says that when Peter saw the wind, “he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”“³ Right then, Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. What had never occurred to me was that Peter was actually safest on the water. There was no place in the universe safer for Peter than beside Jesus.

For so much of my life I have given my fears far too much ground. Like Peter, I have stayed in the safety of the boat in disobedience, but that’s only caused me additional pain and confusion. What the wild waters of the American river taught me was that I am the most secure when I am trusting Jesus, doing what He says–whether that be to paddle right, left, forward, high side, or get down. I am most secure in Him, even if the wind and the waves don’t go away.

Whether it’s stage IV or a class IV, and even if my worst fears are realized, I know that I know that Jesus is in the boat with me, reading the water, looking out for strainers (that’s a fun bit of river-speak for “obstructions”), and working His tail off behind me–because the Savior who draws near truly loves me. He has saved me from death, and from a life of fear.

I can trust Him.

So can you.

²Because he bends down to listen,
    I will pray as long as I have breath!
³Death wrapped its ropes around me;
    the terrors of the grave overtook me.
    I saw only trouble and sorrow.
⁴Then I called on the name of the Lord:
    “Please, Lord, save me!”⁴
⁵How kind the Lord is! How good he is!
    So merciful, this God of ours!

-Psalm 116:2-5

Matthew 24:6, “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come.” ↩︎
Isaiah 66:12 ↩︎
Emphasis mine ↩︎
Emphasis mine ↩︎

Are you leading somewhere good, God?

The first thing I learned about Iowa was that it does, in fact, exist. The second was that you can land a plane on a runway strip in the middle of a cornfield and nobody will think twice about it.

It was the trip we had been discussing for six months. Shortly after we got married, Calvin became interested in attending a local chiropractic college, but just after being accepted, the campus announced that they were shutting their doors. It was pretty heartbreaking. I was sure that meant it was the end of the road for that career, but soon after, he began to consider the same school’s sister campus in a little town in Iowa.

I didn’t want to move to Iowa. I didn’t even want to visit! I tried (and mostly failed) to be positive about it all, just trying to grapple with the idea that God could be leading me somewhere I was reluctant to go and it could still be good.

Per the advice of my counselor, I began to pray and to research. I found POV Youtube videos of people driving around every inch of the town (because apparently this is a thing?!) so I could get a better feel for where we might live. I looked for teaching opportunities at schools in the area and even across the river in Illinois. On sleepless nights, I stayed up to read just about every forum I could find on various Iowa-related things.

Before we knew it, we were on the plane. (You know… the one that landed in a cornfield?!). I’m glad we could laugh and goof off throughout the flight because it was a good distraction from my nerves. The entire time I was praying that the Holy Spirit would give me clarity and peace. That if we were meant to move, I would actually welcome the idea. I made a promise to myself that during our trip I would not say a single thing to sway the decision, and I pleaded to God that He would help me to uphold that promise.

We got an Uber at the airport and drove to a little river town full of friendly people and buildings largely made of red brick. Everything seemed different from California, but I liked that. Sometimes it’s fun to feel like foreigner! Plus, I liked how Iowans said cute things like “you bet,” and how they left off the ing from any word that naturally had one. I learned from the students I met that if it was snowin’, they were either walkin’ to the pub to hang with friends, or eatin’ ice cream at the parlor downtown.

That first night, we ran around the local museum and enjoyed some pub food as we tried to envision ourselves as Midwesterners.

This plate of Schnitzel made it to my list of best meals I’ve had in my life!

The next morning, Calvin and I took an all-day tour of the school. For a small campus, it was pretty impressive. I was intrigued at the fact that everything had to be indoors due to the harsh winters, another thing Californians don’t truly understand. Each hall was different but made with the same beautiful red brick and decorated with royal purple banners.

At the end of the day, Calvin and I sat on a curb and waited for our Uber. This town was so small that we rode with the same Uber driver twice!

“So, what did you think?” I asked, fairly certain I knew the answer. We held hands and chatted. I felt peace and safety, grateful for my husband’s love for me. We were in this together. No matter what we decided, we’d have each other, and we’d have the Lord to rely on.

One year later

Short story long, we actually didn’t move! Sometimes I wonder why we went through that season of waiting and wondering, only to decide not to go. Though reluctant, by the time we reached Iowa, I was so prepared to move that deciding not to felt strange. I know I’ve asked God more than once why the way forward wasn’t clear before had bought the plane tickets.

But perhaps it was all another opportunity to grow in trust of the God who always provides for where He leads. Perhaps the Lord was helping us to grow not only in our marriage, but in our faith in His faithfulness.

But I guess we can join the club, right? There are countless examples from scripture of men and women who learned how to trust the leading of the Lord, even when the way forward was unclear:

Noah spent years building the ark in faith when God said it would rain (Hebrews 11:7).
Abraham left civilization to follow God “without understanding where he was going” (Hebrews 11:8-9).
Even the disciples (whom I’m told more closely resembled a modern-day youth group than a bunch of wise men with beards) took a chance on the carpenter who said, “Come, follow me.” (Matthew 4:19).

Arguments made for the authenticity of these stories can be supported by the fact that the Bible writers don’t attempt to cover the fallenness of God’s human witnesses. After the floodwaters receded, Noah got drunk and naked (Genesis 9:21). Abraham trusted God to provide land and a son… until he didn’t and slept with his wife’s handmaiden in a misguided attempt to produce an heir (Genesis 16:2-4). The Apostle Peter was one of those twelve who left everything behind to follow Jesus, but if you’ve read the gospels, you’ll know him as the poster child for impatience, weak faith, and sometimes even weaker character. The point of these accounts is never the goodness of man but the great faithfulness and love of God.

I particularly wonder if we’re told about how Peter hesitated to walk on water with Jesus to paint a realistic image of the journey of faith (Matthew 14:22-33).

Where He leads, He provides

We didn’t move to attend the midwestern school with the purple banners, but I realized the other day that Calvin now drives around in a royal purple ambulance in a job that has been yet another example of the provision and faithfulness of the Lord.

I’m confident that if we had moved to Iowa, we would have found new jobs, a new church, and a new community. Heck, maybe we would have even come to like the snow! It would have been an adventure, for sure.

And yet, is it not still an adventure trusting the Lord with each day, hour, and moment, and to learn how to lean on His Spirit as we strive to be obedient in whatever He asks of us? Whether the Lord is asking us to lay something down or to take up a new role, we have to keep our eyes open and our hearts softened in order to trust that He is leading us somewhere good. I drive pretty much everywhere with my GPS on, but I pay much closer attention when I’m trying to just follow Calvin’s little green minivan. The same kind of attentiveness can be cultivated in us when we watch and wait for the Lord in uncertain seasons.

Flourishing in the house of God

The olive tree logo for my blog is actually based on a verse that has reminded me to stay close to the Lord and trust Him over the years:

8 But I am like an olive tree
    flourishing in the house of God;
I trust in God’s unfailing love
    for ever and ever.
⁹For what you have done I will always praise you
    in the presence of your faithful people.
And I will hope in your name,
    for your name is good.

-Psalm 52:8-9

May we pray that our hands stay open to what He has for us, knowing that God is good, and that we can trust Him wherever He leads.

Blooms in a Bucket

There is a Home Depot bucket in the center of our lawn containing a just-now-flowering tulip magnolia tree. I guess it’s not exactly on the lawn–it’s in the dirt section we cleared to landscape and hopefully plant that tree in… two years ago. It’s a really beautiful tree that honestly should be in the ground, but it seems to be doing well for now. The irony is that bright orange beacon of a bucket. I love how something so coarse—something so unexpected and almost foolish—could so effectively house something so lovely.

The month of March has been one giant mix of that same bloom of hope inside a Home Depot bucket. I wish I could say more about it, but for now I’ll just say that I applied for something at the beginning of the month, went through the process of hoping, then doubting-myself enough to throw the proverbial crumpled paper in the trash, subsequently removing said crumpled paper, and being more than pleasantly surprised at the result. I have things to look forward to for the following year. God has resurrected dreams and been faithful to bring them to fruition, and I am so thankful for his faithfulness.

On another note, friends has been a theme this month. The day of Saint Patrick’s Day I arrived home right after work, which, considering the fact that I am NEVER home before 10:30pm, was already cause for concern.

The day before I realized that I had been so excited for my Spring Break plans that I skipped not one, but two weeks of planning in my scheduled lessons:

Anyway, my brain was a fried egg. When I got home, a box from my dear college friend, Erika, was waiting for me. Inside was the most thoughtful collection of gifts and trinkets: face mask and scrub for relaxation; tea, hot chocolate and apple cider to drink while I relax; Ghiradelli squares for that chocolate fix; play dough for stress-relief (I’ve used that a ton this week); glow sticks for funzies, and two shamrock necklaces for St. Patty’s. It was the most thoughtful and timely thing. In her note, she mentioned how I had looked tired on our Zoom call a week before and even if she couldn’t directly help lighten the load, at least she could lighten my spirits. What an amazing friend.

The box was timely in other ways, too. Days later I received a series of sobering letters from an old friend. I’ll spare the details, but it was a less-than-joyful subject. I questioned my ability to call myself a good friend and fell into a slump, but the somber feeling lasted only for a day because God blessed me one more time with a surprise AM visit from my best friend. We drank tea and gloried in God’s faithfulness to both of us. We only had two hours, but those two hours were desperately needed. I’m still in awe of this ten year friendship that has, by the grace of God, survived military-induced communication barriers and lots of long-distance. I love you, Toler!!

Rules for surprise Kenzie visits: 1) She will come in without warning (she knows our door code), probably holding a cat she picked up outside. 2) She will walk in wearing shoes, take them off, and leave without said shoes, resulting in you chasing her car for a few seconds down the street before she realizes what’s going on. This will never change.

Speaking of friends, my other best friend and I celebrated nine months together last week! We sat on the phone last night reviewing the photos we’ve sent each other over the course of our relationship. It was sweet to see us progress from the tentative, safe realm of food photos to weirder memes as we got more comfortable. Hilarity ensued. Here are some of the greats:

One of the high school students made some creative edits of Mr. Chartier. MIB? MIBPS? (Men in blue pinstripes??)

My plague mask I was THIS close to buying. It seemed so fitting back in the lockdown world of June 2020.

Calvin’s bunny outfit that apparently got him in huge trouble in high school. It was a security issue, but still—sometimes I wish educators would lighten up enough to let their students actually enjoy school.

The last one is one of the reasons we’re dating. When the head of our church’s pantry asked if I wanted a partner to help me pick up the bread we’d distribute, I knew it was my in for asking Calvin to hang out. Later on she clarified that I didn’t actually need help. I didn’t tell him that until later. The rest is history. 😉

Speaking of God’s faithfulness, this sweet man brought me a surprise latte in between my parent teacher conferences Wednesday. I didn’t realize how stressed I had been until I was able to hold my coffee and be held for a minute. About a year ago I went through the most painful breakup of my life, and I’ve never been more grateful for anything because it meant finding someone who gets me and makes me laugh and encourages me to look to Jesus in everything. I love him so much. He works hard at school and digs trenches for work like a character in Les Miserables without complaining. He brings me lattes at work and I love listening to him play guitar and crush it at his CrossFit competitions.

He is the unexpected flowers in the Home Depot bucket and I am in awe of a God who would bless me so richly.