Graham the Canadian

I spent about 6 years of my life in Ecuador with Graham the Canadian staring at me from the other side of a consul. Each morning, I'd flip a switch and begin a program we hoped would encourage folks in North and South America.

Ralph the Hard Nosed News Director, would pop in and out of the studio to read the news, chaperon and chastise us accordingly. But Graham the Canadian did sports and never left. He’d sit there, looking at me, waiting for me to turn his mic on.

Now Graham the Canadian and I were nothing alike. He was… well… Canadian. And, oddly, proud of it.

He was a seminary trained pastor. I had read parts of the Bible. He liked Calvin. I liked the other guys. He liked all the wrong college teams and pro teams. He celebrated Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July on the wrong days. He even had girls!

But something strange happens when you see someone, before coffee, every single day, for years. I started to like him. We worked together, raised kids together, laughed together, wept together, played Euchre with our wives together and even vacationed together each Christmas.

And many days, when the mics were switched off, we would begin to talk about things that mattered, leaning into the life on the other side of the consul. On one occasion, as we were talking about the futility of trying to live a life free of sin Graham looked at me and said, “Jeff, God is honored in the struggle.”

What? Honored in the struggle? That’s not right! God is honored when I get my act together. He’s honored when I overcome. He’s ready for me to be done with the struggle, over the struggle, REDEEMED from the struggle! Right?

God has to be SICK of the struggle. I know I am.

No. God is honored in the struggle. Few words have ever been more healing for me. Few have ever been so filled with grace.