I remember getting the call from our receptionist, who said, “A man who goes to the church is in need of a pastor to speak with.” As I went out to the CCC atrium, I immediately recognized John. He was one of our Access service usher volunteers. John is hard not to notice. He has a tough-looking exterior—shaved head, long white goatee, tattoos, a guy who looks like he owns a Harley (and he actually does). As I walked up to John that day, I noticed something was wrong. I could tell by his tear-filled eyes that something terrible had happened. We sat down. John opened his mouth but no words came out. He paused and then mustered up the little strength he had left to get out the most dreaded phrase any parent could ever have to say out loud: “My daughter Mary died the day before yesterday and I don’t know what to do now.”

Two days later I was conducting Mary’s funeral, laying her to rest at Westlawn-Hillcrest Cemetery. Family and friends put their arms around John and his wife Theresa. Prayers were prayed. Scripture was read. A eulogy was given. Memories were shared. And then, one by one, people went home as the graveside service concluded, and John and Theresa were left picking up the pieces of their broken hearts.

Just a couple of days later I showed up to Sunday services at CCC, making my rounds about the church. I was surprised to see John and Theresa sitting in their usual spots in church. They had such a tough weekend that I surely thought they would be at home, closing themselves off from the outside world. On the contrary, after giving them both a hug and telling them I was a bit surprised to see them there, John leaned in and said, “There’s no other place we’d rather be during this time than with our church family.” That statement sums up the Fosters’ unwavering faith in the midst of the trials and pain they faced that year. It’s what sustained them through the storms of loss and grief and it’s what continues to give them strength today.

John and Theresa met in 1974, instantly fell in love, and got married three months later. Shortly after their wedding, John joined the Air Force, which sent them traveling the states and the world as John was stationed in places like Tuscon, Arizona, Sumter, South Carolina, and Rhaunen, Germany. Because deep friendships in the military lifestyle are hard to come by, they relied on their faith and connection with a local church to provide the relational community they both craved.

The last of John’s reassignments led them back to Omaha in July 1994. They struggled in their faith for a time and didn’t immediately get connected into a local church. However, one day their daughter came home from a church she went to with her friend and said, “Mom and Dad, you have to come check out Christ Community Church.” John and Theresa did and began attending and serving at CCC with their family on a regular basis. That decision changed the trajectory of their lives and family and had a huge impact on how they were able to face adversity, pain, and grief twenty years later.

2016: Beyond the “Valley of the Shadow of Death”

On April 14, 2016, John and Theresa were riding on John’s Harley heading west on Dodge Street in midtown when a car pulled out in front of them. They hit that car head-on going 40 mph. Theresa suffered a few broken ribs, along with many bumps and bruises. As the driver in front, John’s injuries were much worse. If it wasn’t for God using the trauma nurse who happened to be driving behind them, the praying woman eating at a restaurant nearby who was first on the scene, and a top surgeon who just so happened to be on-call, many at the hospital concurred that John probably wouldn’t have made it. After nine days in the hospital, John went home and continued to heal from his injuries.

And of course, as soon as he was able, he was back on a new Harley. “I was not going to give in to fear,” John said. That was a statement that not only got him back on his bike, it was one that defined their unwavering faith and trust in God as they endured the death of their daughter six months later.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me” (KJV). I read that verse along with the rest of Psalm 23 at Mary’s funeral. As John and Theresa found themselves in that valley, they held onto the same promise King David did: God was with them. Even in the darkest moments of pain and grief. Even when there were no words. Just tears. God was present. God was real. And God had a plan for their lives that brought them beyond mere belief to fully surrendered to him.

2017: Beyond Belief

A year after Mary’s passing, which just so happened to be the same week as their wedding anniversary, John took a couple days off work to spend time with Theresa. Theresa described how hard the “firsts” without Mary were—the first birthday, the first Christmas, the first Easter, the first Mother’s Day and Father’s Day—all of them were excruciatingly difficult. Of course, the first anniversary of Mary’s death was no exception.

During that week, John answered a call from his boss letting him know that they were restructuring and thus eliminating his position. So, adding to an already difficult week, John and Theresa had to process the future with no job and the idea of early retirement. To complicate matters, the Fosters, as a part of the Beyond Belief initiative at CCC, decided days earlier to make a financial commitment based on John’s previous income. The Advance Commitment Night event, where hundreds of people from the church were the first to make their commitments, was just a couple days away and they had a choice to make. Should they change their commitment? Should they not make a commitment at all?

For John and Theresa, this was an easy decision. “God has been faithful to us our entire lives, especially over the last year. He’ll continue to be faithful in the future. So we decided to trust him with the commitment we already made.” They went to the Strategic Air and Space Museum on Friday, October 27, 2017, and dropped their Beyond Belief commitment in the container, trusting that God would provide. He has. He still does today.

God has provided for the Fosters more than just financially. He has provided them with his faithful presence. He has given them a depth in their understanding of him that they would have never had if they didn’t endure the pain of a near-death experience, the loss of a child, and the loss of a job. God brought them through the storm of 2016, pulled them out of the waves of grief and loss, and gave them a story to share: one of hope, one of love, and one of faithfulness.

Whenever you ask John and Theresa to sum up their story, they usually say three simple but profound words: God is faithful.

He is. He is indeed.

Joe Jensen is the Director of Strategic Projects and Church Engagement for The Barna Group