A Testimony of God’s Faithfulness: Five Years After the Crash
February 25, 2025
February 25, 2025
This month marks five years since my family and I survived a plane crash.11 . “Turkey plane: Three dead, 180 hurt as jet skids off runway in Istanbul,” BBC News, February 6, 2020, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-51384667. When landing, the plane skidded off the runway and down a steep incline, breaking in two before it ran into a concrete barrier that stopped it.
Little did I know then how much the Lord would teach me as a pastor in central Asia through this harrowing experience.
I can still remember how when we hit the tarmac it felt like the plane was speeding up, not slowing down. I remember two lurching bumps, and then I blacked out. I woke up to a flurry of sensations, all of which were . . . off. The sound of gushing liquid, the cold outside air blowing on us, the darkness inside the plane. Worst of all, there was an empty seat next to me where my wife and baby girl had been.
I immediately began frantically scanning the scene. The angled floor created by the crack in the fuselage blocked my line of sight.
I turned to my other side and saw my three-year-old, her face bleeding. She was just coming to me when the flight attendant yelled for us to get out of the plane immediately.
I remember picking up my little girl and shuffling off the plane. Seeing the landing gear lodged in the mud a few feet from the plane, I thought, “This looks like the set of Lost.” My daughter was scared, maybe because blood caked both our faces, maybe because she had lost one of her shoes. It was utter chaos. I tried to calm her down, but I silently wondered if she and I were all that was left of our family.
Fifteen minutes later, I learned that the Lord had spared all four of us. Many on the plane were not as fortunate. My wife, Eunice, had been thrown from her seat but was able to help others off the plane. To this day, we still don’t know what happened to our six-month-old, but we give thanks because the flight attendant, remembering our little one, rummaged through the wreckage and found her and brought her off the plane. By God’s grace, our baby girl was essentially unscathed.
Here are a few reflections I have had over the past five years.
It’s been said that you need to prepare for suffering before it happens. That day, what struck me most was how important it is to be thankful. There was so much about what would come of the crash that we didn’t know yet. But there were also so many signs of God’s kindness to us. Even amidst the unfolding horror, we were led to give thanks to God for sparing our lives.
Dear Christian, one part of preparing yourself for suffering is to train your eye to spot God’s kindness and to train your mouth to quickly give thanks for its many evidences.
The next weeks were full of God’s kindness to us. Friends of friends picked us up from the hospital and let us stay with them for a week. Longtime family friends who had trained in counseling helped us debrief. A church member drove seven hours just to pick us up, turn around, and drive us home. People from around the globe reached out to say they were praying for us. There’s much to give thanks for. In some ways, this article is kind of like an Ebenezer for me—a marker of God’s faithfulness to bring us so far.
Don’t get me wrong—this five-year journey has not been without hardship. My wife sustained life-altering injuries in that crash. For five years, she has faced wave after wave of physical issues that have restricted her—often leaving her completely homebound. It’s been five years since we’ve been able to go on a hike or bushwalk together. Our youngest has no memory of her mother being able to pick her up. These years have been full of uncertainty, frustration, and loss. Loss of adventures with our family. Loss of energy and room for relationships. Loss of ministry for me or for us as a family. It’s been five years of trying to do calculus: how much will this fun activity or going out for lunch after church cost us tomorrow? For five years, our family has been weak and limited.
Praise the Lord we have seen improvement. Praise the Lord that my wife’s health hasn’t been as bad as of late. We are seeing slow but steady progress. Praise the Lord we’ve seen him continue to provide for us, whether through physical therapists or friends who reach out. Praise the Lord for prayer warriors who continue to lift us up in this trial and for church members who have been quick to help us in so many practical ways. They have borne so many of our burdens with us. We praise the Lord for his faithfulness to us.
Through all these challenges, The Lord has taught me a ton about being weak in ministry.
I have learned what it means to boast in weakness. For many years, I had read 2 Corinthians 12:8–9 as though it said, “I will boast of my weakness because the power of Christ rests on me.” But that’s not what it says. Paul says in weakness God’s power is made perfect. He boasted of his weakness so that the power of Christ rested on him. God does not choose to act through churches or ministers who think they are mighty, but through those who know we are weak without his grace.
I have learned how much faith it takes not only to say that preaching is the most important ministry of the church but also to act according to that conviction. There were some weeks and months when preaching was all I could do. There are so many good things I’ve had to give up. But faith comes through hearing, and hearing the Word of God, so I have tried to flex my limited bandwidth for the purpose of faithful preaching. I am sometimes tempted to think about what more I could be doing for the Lord if I weren’t so limited. The reality, however, is that God is not hindered by my limitations.
I have also learned what loneliness created by long seasons of quiet suffering feels like. I have learned what guilt over limitedness feels like. Brother pastor, remember that while there are sheep who need to be rebuked over their failure to do good, most of the flock simply need your encouragement. Don’t scold; encourage them to press on.
Many of my friends in full-time ministry have adopted the mantra on William Carey’s gravestone: “Expect great things from God, attempt great things for God.” Like Carey, we want to make a difference. But before we think about results, we need to remember that pastoral ministry is about giving an account to the Chief Shepherd for the souls he entrusted to us. If you can’t be content with shepherding stumbling souls to heaven, you will trample them with your ambition. The Lord was kind to give me limitations, lest I run over the sheep.
Lastly, I have learned to hope in God’s sovereignty. This is not the life I would have chosen for us. It’s especially not the life I would have chosen for my dear wife. But God is good, all the time. Regrets present in the form of questions—What if we hadn’t gone on that trip? What if we’d seen Western doctors first? What would the church be like now if I could have done this or that? But these questions fail to reckon with this sweet truth: whatever God ordains is right. He orders all things for the good of those who love him.
Praise the Lord he has been faithful to teach us, to care for us, to preserve us. Praise the Lord he is more concerned with the health of our souls than our productivity for the kingdom. He has taught us more of what it means to be content in all circumstances. Praise the Lord he has taught me that being a caring husband is more important than being an impressive pastor. Praise the Lord he has taught me more patience and endurance than I would have had otherwise. Praise the Lord he is good, and his steadfast love endures forever.