Flashes in the Fog
by Arlener Poydras

Have you ever been in the dark? I mean really in the dark where you can’t see your own hand in front of your face. When we are in our darkest moments, even the slightest bit of light catches our attention and lights our pathway. Regardless of our position in life, our financial status, or even our religious belief, darkness does not discriminate. Darkness is darkness, pain is pain, sickness is sickness, and sorrow is sorrow. However, God has a way of sending flashes of unexpected light into the darkest of foggy places.

It was a warm February afternoon in 2012, around lunchtime, when I looked at my husband and said, “I need a glass of wine.” He gazed at me and said, “I could use a drink myself.” You see, my only biological child, my son AJ, passed away on February 20, 2012 and I was looking for relief in all the wrong places. So my husband drove over thirty-five miles to a liquor store in another city, in a part of town where we thought no one would see the preacher and his wife. Upon arrival, there was only one car in the parking lot. As we parked, I saw an elderly gentleman with gray hair getting out of his car. I remember admiring his car, and thinking to myself, “What a beautiful baby blue Mercedes convertible, and it’s a perfect day for it!”

After my husband went into the store, he emerged a few minutes later with an odd look on his face, holding a bag at arm’s length in front of him. When he got into the car he said, “You are not going to believe what happened.” I thought the store had been robbed or something. As my husband backed out of the parking space, the elderly man came out of the door. As we passed in front him on the parking lot, my husband lowered the car window on my side and pointed toward the man and said, “That man paid for all of our stuff!” The man looked up and slowly walked toward our car. My hand was on the door of the car, the elderly gentleman then placed his hand on top of my hand and said, “God told me to tell you, He knows what he is doing, and it’s going to be alright.” I looked into his crystal blue eyes, and it felt like I was looking through them into heaven. He was smiling as tears rolled down my face. He squeezed my hand, said “God bless you” and walked away. My husband and I drove home in silence. Needless to say, the preacher and his wife did not have that glass of wine.

God knows where you are, and His love for you will stalk you, even if you try to hide in a liquor store in another town. I believe the man in the parking lot was a messenger from God. He was sent to give hope to grieving parents who were roaming around in the fog looking for something to ease their pain. He brought a little of God’s light to us in a moment of darkness. I call these unexpected encounters with God, “Flashes in the Fog.” Just when you are about to give up or you can’t take one more thing, God makes himself known to you in unexpected ways. Don’t miss Him in the small things; look for Him, expect Him and wait for Him.

My journey with God started years ago and I did not even realize how involved God was in the details of my life. As a little girl, my grandmother took us to a small traditional church where we were part of the children’s choir. One evening, my brothers and I forgot that granny was going to pick us up for choir rehearsal. We were dressed in play clothes, shorts and sneakers. When granny stopped by to pick us up for rehearsal, we simply hopped in the car without thinking. After choir rehearsal I heard my granny talking loudly with another lady dressed in all white. The other lady was saying we could not come back because I wore shorts to church and it was inappropriate. I did not ask my grandmother about the conversation, but the experience incorrectly shaped my view of God. I grew up believing that I had to “dress” a certain way or “perform” a certain way, or “not do certain things” or Jesus would not love me anymore. Shortly after that experience my favorite uncle was murdered. During that time, I remember being in the back seat of my parent’s car, saying to Jesus, “If you are real, help me stop crying,” and He did. From then on I believed Jesus was real. I did not understand everything, but I accepted Jesus on faith.

However, in the back of my mind and heart, I still believed I had to perform in order to be accepted by God. As the second oldest of nine children, I did everything. I cleaned house, changed diapers, was employed at age fifteen, maintained straight A’s in school and worked hard to meet the approval of others. Finally, at age 19, I found out some good news! Jesus already completed the performance. I did not have to do everything perfectly, or solve every problem to be loved by Him. I was one tired little girl. I needed to accept that Jesus paid the price for my inability to get everything right. Now that I really understood with my head, as well as my heart, I decided to get baptized again as an adult. For the first time in my life I felt free. I did not have to perform anymore for the approval of people or God.

But old habits die hard. I knew I did not have to perform to be accepted by Jesus, but I still depended on myself to get things done. I graduated from college, married my high school sweetheart, and had a son. While married, I completed an MBA and CPA, and adopted a nine-month-old little girl. I was Superwoman! However, I felt it was all me; my effort, my smarts and my plan. My life was bright and sunny. I know God was there with me since that day in the back seat of my parent’s car, but my life was so bright that I missed Him.

By age 30, everything started to crumble. I found out the MBA stood for “Married but Alone.” I ended up divorced with a two small children. After trying to hold it together financially for a while, I knew I needed to make a tough decision. With two children and one income, I could not make ends meet. It was a dark time in my life. I made a decision to go home to my mother and start over.

When I went to church that Sunday I thought, Since I don’t have enough money to pay my bills anyway, I might as well tithe for the first time. This was going to be a new beginning, the right way. On Monday morning I called my landlord to tell him I was moving out, and he asked why. I explained I could not afford to stay any longer. He said I was a good tenant, lowered my monthly payment by $200, and waived my late fees. How did he know how much I was short? How did he know he gave me back more than double what I gave as a tithe on Sunday?

There was a light in the darkness, hope for my distress. I began to realize God provided all of the goodness in my life, and even though I didn’t notice him, he was always there. However when things were dark, I saw him much more clearly.

I came to the end of myself and walked into an intimate, amazing, indescribably delicious relationship with the God of the universe. This experience began a twenty-year journey of moving from knowing about God from afar, to getting to know Jesus up close and personal. This intimate love relationship came by reading his Word, prayer, Bible study, attending church, and serving his people. Previously, I did not have a relationship with God, I just knew about him, and I believed in Him.

I grew closer to God by talking to him about everything: good times, bad times, mundane times, just all of the time. I loved God and his people and I wanted them to love Him the way I did. So I began serving God’s people and teaching them his Word. There were ups and downs, mistakes and successes, faith and doubt, but a close relationship developed. A close relationship with Jesus is the most gratifying, amazing, unexplainable relationship in the world.

However, a close relationship does not exempt us from trouble. I know that death is part of life, and I have had my share of people pass away, friends, family, my granny, and my dad. In November, 2011 my youngest sister died. My son, AJ, my husband and I were next to her bedside at a local hospital. After she took her last breath, there was a peace that came over her and us. I pulled out my phone and pulled up the song, “Trust in Jesus” by Third Day. When we pulled the curtain back in the Emergency Room, the staff was rocking along with us.

It was beautiful.

One hundred days later, on Feb 20, 2012, the phone rang around 9:00 a.m. I missed the call but returned the call immediately because the phone number was from Abilene, Texas. My son, AJ, moved to Abilene in November, 2011. The police officer on the other end of the phone told me my son was no longer with us. My need for God escalated exponentially at that moment. As people began gathering at our home, it was simply unbelievable. My pastor came over, and before he left, wanted to pray with us. Immediately after he finished praying, a song started to play on the intercom, “Trust in Jesus” by Third Day. My husband and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes. That still small voice inside of me quietly said, “If I am good enough for your sister, I am good enough for your only son.”

This did not look or feel like my Savior, Jesus, my friend Jesus, my “everything” Jesus. This felt like Jesus no longer loved me. I felt betrayed. I felt like the gospel was not true. God was not good. I was appalled, terrorized and taunted by death. In my anguish I even yelled at God. In his mercy and compassion, He did not yell back! I was like a child having a temper tantrum when her favorite toy is taken away. God grabbed me as I kicked, flailing my arms, shaking my head and screaming; He put me in a vice grip called love until a protective fog settled over my life.

Over the next week, God clouded my mind and my emotions in an amazing way. So much so He enabled me to bury my baby, do an appeal to those who attended the funeral, who were not believers in Jesus. I used the song “Trust in Jesus,” to comfort others, and I did not shed a tear. I recognized God in the midst of my grief, holding me up for His glory. There were many people at the funeral that loved and knew me, but were not believers in Jesus Christ. I loved these people; many were coworkers for over twenty years and were some of the nicest, smartest, and honest people I ever knew. I desperately wanted them to know God was holding me up. I had nothing to do with it.

In the weeks after the funeral I received many inquiries about this Jesus that I believe in. How was I able to stand on that day, what was the meaning of the Scriptures that were read during the funeral, and on and on and on. I was grateful to share Christ during this season.

What has terrorized or hurt you beyond your wildest nightmare? What did you do? What did God do?

God will use bad things to send us deeper into his word and into a tangible and intimate relationship with him.

When God removed the fog and the cold, harsh reality settled in that AJ was not coming back. I began the journey of grief that felt like walking naked in subzero weather on broken glass. That’s when I found myself at a liquor store looking for relief. After God made himself known through a stranger, I totally surrendered again.

But this would be another level of closeness with my God. When we got home from the liquor store, I went into my bedroom, closed the door, entered my bathroom, closed the door, then went into my closet, and closed the door. I lay on the floor for hours. I prayed to God, saying, “I can’t do it. If you don’t rescue me, I will just die on the closet floor, and I am okay with that. For weeks on end I would go there and yell and cry and earnestly talk with God about my misery and grief. God did not say a word, but I knew he was there. He knew I could not hear him through the pain and darkness. God knows us, he knows our personalities, and he deals with each of us differently.

In my mind, I was certain of who God said He was in his Word, and I wanted it to be true in my heart again. Burying my only biological child did not look like the God I knew but God showed me He was the same God, at age six, at age nineteen, when I got married, divorced, and even now. God began to show me His character by showing up in his creation at just the right moments.

One morning, during one of my temper tantrums, I was thumbing through an old Bible and saw my name and the date April 9, 2009 written by Psalm 116. I realized it was my grandmother’s name, Arlener, and the date of her funeral next to her favorite verse. Psalm 116:1. She always recited verse 1: “I love the Lord for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy.” God whispered, “Keep reading” and I did. So I read the entire passage and it spoke completely to my anguish and grief. This became my favorite Psalm. During my lunch hour, I walked around the lake at my office, repeating this Psalm until I had it memorized. The Scripture spoke to all of my pain points and became true to me verse- by-verse.

Going through my son’s things one day, I fell to the floor as a wave of grief came in. I was just about to go into tantrum mode when a text message came in from a friend that I talk with twice a year. It said, “I bind depression right now in the name of Jesus.” I immediately looked around because I wondered who was watching me. How did they know? God was on the floor with me and sent me a simple message: “Not today; no tantrums today.” I got up and started cleaning AJ’s room.

In September of that year I took a week off to pack up AJ’s things. It was a difficult week. My daughter and I went to church the following Sunday with heavy hearts.

Chris, a brilliant young man who is autistic, attends our church. He has a special thing he does with birthdays. If you tell him your birthday and year, he tells you, within seconds, what day of the week you were born. He can also tell if there was a storm or any other significant event on that day. So he came up to me and my daughter, yelling with his unique stutter, “Sis Poydras, Sis Poydras, I have been thinking about AJ a lot this week. I miss him.” I got choked up and said, “Me too, Chris.” He looked at us and said, “Oh well, that’s okay. He is in heaven” and abruptly walked away. My daughter and I started laughing and said, “Amen, Chris.”

A few weeks later, I had a couple of visitors with me. Chris walked up and asked them if they were left-handed or right-handed? They looked at each other and answered. Chris then told the visitors that AJ was also left-handed. Then Chris immediately corrected himself and said, “Oh, he’s is in heaven now, so he writes with both hands.” Then he abruptly walked away. Chris runs with the angels. He delivered a powerful message to me not once, but twice. I was not hearing God speak to me, so he sent Chris my way, and I was grateful.

In spite of my sin, in spite of my anger, in spite of my faithlessness, in spite of questions, my lack of obedience, God was gracious to me and showed up in a ways that I would notice and say that he loves me still. He will meet us anywhere, even in a liquor store to let us know that he loves us and He knows what He is doing.

There is no darkness with God. Look for the “Flashes in the Fog” in every stage of your life. They will make you smile through tears and worship God in spite of the darkness.

Arlener’s mantra is, “Jesus is my everything and my enough!” She is the author of the bookFlashes in the Fog. She is President of The Artis-the-Artist Foundation and serves with the “Meet Me at the Cross” (MM@TC!) Prayer Ministry. She is married to Minister L.A. Poydras and has a daughter, Marie.