Has that question ever haunted you? Does your faith flounder when life deals a low blow, like our punching bag shuddering before my kids’ Kung Fu fists?
Mine does sometimes, especially when logic goes unsatisfied and cliché answers just won’t do. It’s been one of those seasons for me lately as we’ve grieved with several friends over the loss of beloved family members.
If you, too, wonder why, I invite you into the wrestling match within my soul.
Here are some of the questions I’ve been asking God lately:
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If You are sovereign, as Your Word says You are, why do You sometimes allow horrible things to happen? I get the whole “free will” thing – some people chose to hurt others. And if I’m honest, I hurt others at times, too.
But why accidents? If You are good, as I’ve tasted and seen You are, why don’t You stop them before they occur?
I can’t make sense of this. And my heart is afraid to trust You with my future.
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Oh, the comfort of bringing my restless heart to Jesus and listening as He speaks through His Spirit and His Word.
God led me to the story of Jesus at Lazarus’ tomb (John 11). Remember that time when He could have stopped His friend from dying, but He didn’t? He didn’t get there in time – on purpose.
I’ve never before noticed the connection between verses five and six. “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed where He was two more days.”
What?
Because He loved them, He stayed away long enough to let Lazarus die.
That seems utterly illogical. Lazarus’ sisters thought so, too. They both essentially accused Jesus of not lovingthem because He let their brother die through His tardiness. Divine love often baffles human reason.
Yet Jesus didn’t get angry with their questions or rebuke their boldness. On the contrary, He did something quite the opposite.
He knew the miracle He was about to perform – He would command death to release it’s grip on His friend. Within minutes, He would restore Lazarus to life and give him back into his sisters’ arms.
Yet His heart was so deeply moved by His loved ones’ suffering that He, too, wept with them. He felt their pain, and He feels ours, too.
He could have prevented Lazarus’ death, but He saw a bigger picture. Instead, He drew near to the sisters and wept with them.
This is Emmanuel, God with us. Near to the brokenhearted. A very present help in our need (Psalm 34:18, 46:1). The God of comfort restores shattered lives, trades beauty for ashes and replaces heaviness with praise.
He knows the end of our story, too – that for believers in Jesus, death is not the end. One day our suffering will be over. Like Lazarus and his sisters, we will be reunited with those gone before us into heaven.
But Jesus’ knowledge of the future doesn’t prevent Him from feeling our pain in the present or pouring out His comfort in abundant measure.
After weeping with Mary and Martha, He proved that He Himself is the resurrection and the life. Death has no hold on Him. And one day, it will have no hold on us either.
Until that day, there will be many unanswered questions. Many times we won’t understand or feel the love of God. We’ll have many opportunities to wrestle with Him and choose faith when nothing makes sense, because we’ve found that Jesus alone holds life, hope, healing and peace.
He will set all things right someday.
In the meantime, He is so close, and His nearness is our good.
How has God walked you through wrestling matches of the soul? I’d love to hear – please leave a comment below.
I sit in a hospital room, surrounded by beeping and whirring machines. Otherwise, it’s silent.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
A beloved family member sleeps fitfully in the bed in front of me. The surgery went well. Anesthesia effective. Thank God for good doctors. Now begins the rocky road to recovery.
As I stare at her, something deep within me revolts against what I see. In this room, all over this hospital, are people who bear God’s image – each with a story to tell. They have hopes, plans and dreams. They are loved, and they love in return. They want to be healthy, happy, free. They want to be anywhere but here.
My mind wanders back to a Garden, the first and only perfect Garden. Teaming with life, bursting with beauty, this Garden showcased the handiwork of the Master Creator. He spoke everything into existence and pronounced it good – everything, that is, until He was ready for His magnum opus. For this, He would use extra special care. He would craft man and woman as the pinnacle of His creation. Now, He says, everything is very good.
Teaming with life and bursting with beauty
Beauty. Fruitfulness. Each day an extension of yesterday’s friendship with God. No knowledge of pain. No conflict between man and wife, humankind and God. Trust and peace. Wholeness and well-being. Unhampered joy. Unhindered life.
This, this is what we were made for. This was God’s design.
Not what I see in this hospital room.
Not what we see all around us today.
Not life as we know it in this sin-ravaged world.
When mistrust of God and self-exaltation came on the scene, everything changed. Absolutely everything. (See Gen 3.)
Creation itself groans under its “bondage to decay” (Rom 8:21). Thorns and thistles. Death and desolation. Predators and Prey. Famine, drought, natural disasters. And we, the masterpieces of His Creation, we cannot escape this broken existence either. No matter our position or status or story, we all know the pain of living here.
But it will not always be so.
Because a Deliverer came to our rescue.
The Creator became as the created.
The One who holds our universe together stepped into our brokenness and lived among us.
He knew our pain. He faced our battles. He bore our shame.
He chose the cross and took our sin – the very cause of all this heartbreak in the first place.
The Holy One waged war on sin and death. And He won.
The victory has been decided. Jesus is the Champion. And soon, we will know the full reality of all He accomplished that day at Calvary.
Someday God will restore His creation. He will deliver us from this fallen world. He will usher in a new heaven and a new earth where we, His own, will be with Him forever. In our new home, there will be no more death or pain or sickness or tears. He will make everything new.
And so, as I sit here in this hospital room, I take comfort. As I read the news and feel the heartbreak of each new tragedy, I find hope. This fleeting existence is not all there is. Someday, everything will be made right.
Our Deliver is coming. Come quickly, Lord Jesus!
Come quickly, Lord Jesus!
How do you comfort your heart in times of suffering and pain? I’d love to hear!
(If you want to know more about a relationship with this Deliverer, please check out In Case You’re Wondering.)
Good Friday…Seems a strange title for history’s darkest day.
The Righteous Judge condemned in a mock trial. Truth himself falsely accused. Love hated. The Savior rejected. The King stripped and despised.
Healer of the deaf heard “Crucify Him!” Creation’s Creator felt thorns on his brow. Hands that fed thousands took nails for those fed. Whips tore his flesh who created all flesh.
The Maker murdered by the work of his hands.
The Sinless One became sin, and the Father turned His back. All the shame and the pain, all the ugliness of hell taken by the Lamb who was slain.
Creation groaned as darkness seemed to extinguish the Light.
Sometimes good looks undeniably not good. But…
But – such a powerful word. It tells us there’s more to the story.
But darkness can never conquer Light.
But death cannot hold the Resurrection and the Life.
But grace is greater than all my sin.
Mercy triumphs over judgment. Forgiveness was purchased on Friday’s cruel cross.
Grace wins.
Good Friday is good because Sunday is coming. God has the final word. And all he does is good.
The cross was not an accident. Not a rescue plan gone awry. No kidnapped King. No victim of tragedy. No, the cross was the plan. From the creation of the world, this was God’s idea. He knew his beloved ones would rebel, and he knew the price he would pay for our redemption. He also knew death would not be the end.
So he willingly went to the cross. He poured out his love as He poured his blood. He paid the price for our sins–all of them, for every person who believes.
Then on Sunday morning he robbed death of its sting and the grave of its victory. With all the power that created life, he recreated life in his dead body. And he lives today, never to die again.
Because of the cross and the empty grave, this is our inheritance as followers of Jesus:
Our sins are forgiven, and all the righteousness of Jesus is credited to us.
We have peace with God. Closeness with our Creator is now possible.
We are dead to our old life– completely new creations.
Sin is no longer our master, and neither is the law.
We never have to fear God’s wrath because Jesus took it all for us.
We need not fear death.
We have an enduring hope.
A heavenly inheritance awaits.
This weekend, may the beauty of the cross and the love of our Savior captivate our hearts and minds. We are loved! We are treasured! We are redeemed!
What are your thoughts on “Good Friday”? How has the cross brought good to your life?
Don’t you just love a good sunrise? Pink, purple and orange streak across the sky like colors on an artist’s canvas. Birds join the parade of beauty in heralding the rising sun. Hope and anticipation fill the air.
Now, lest you get a false impression, I must admit that seeing the sunrise is not a common occurrence for me. I actually think I might be allergic to early mornings. But today I was awake well before dawn. I just returned from a mission trip on the other side of the world, so my internal clock is still trying to readjust to the current time zone.
But oh, how thankful I am for these quiet moments before the house comes alive. In fact, it seems that it was a divine set-up for what I would read in the Word this morning.
“…The Sunrise from on high (Jesus) will visit us” (Luke 1:78b). What a fitting intro to the Christmas season!
Jesus, the Sunrise from on high. That name fascinates me. A sunrise, in all its glorious beauty, carries with it the promise of a new day, a brighter day. It bursts with hope – a fresh start, a new beginning.
What an apt description of the Christ-child. We celebrate hope, joy and peace at Christmastime, because that is what our Savior represents.
In the verses following the one above, Luke goes on to explain what the Sunrise will do. He will visit us with tender mercies, to give light to those walking in darkness and living under death’s shadow. With the first glimmer of light, the first ray of sunshine, a message of hope is born – “Down with darkness!” The reign of sin, and all the misery that accompanies it – its end has come! The Light of the World, “the Sun of righteousness, will rise with healing in its rays” (Mal 4:2).
The Resurrection and the Life is here to kill death and rob it of its sting (1 Cor 15:55). No longer must we lie under condemnation and fear of death. Hope, forgiveness and healing are here.
In a world longing for peace, the Prince of Peace is born. We look for rulers and armies, but He comes as a homeless Baby. Small beginnings – like the first glimmer of dawn. As He grows and teaches and heals, the light grows brighter.
But then, in one last effort, darkness strikes a deathblow to this Light. And the Sunrise seems to stop before full light.
But as it is with nature, so it is with nature’s Creator.
Darkness can never extinguish light.
Bursting forth in full brilliance of day, Jesus rises from the grave and forever breaks the chains of death and darkness.
Because the Sunrise from on high has visited us.
Our world is still shrouded in darkness. But darkness has lost its power, because Light has come and shone into our hearts. War and death still fill the earth. But it will not always be so, because the Prince of Peace has won. Suffering and sickness strike us all. But the Sunrise from on high gives hope and “guides our feet into the way of peace” (Is 59:8).
Our God is with us. He walked among us to set all things right. He lives within the hearts of His own, giving hope, light and peace to those who once walked in darkness.
May your Christmas season be filled with the light of this Sunrise from on high!
How does His light affect your Christmastime festivities? Any creative ways you’ve found for shining His light during the holidays? I’d love to hear!
Mine does sometimes, especially when logic goes unsatisfied and cliché answers just won’t do. It’s been one of those seasons for me lately as we’ve grieved with several friends over the loss of beloved family members.
He will set all things right someday.
