There are moments when God's timing simply blows me away.
Moments when His goodness, grace and sovereignty catch me off guard, re-shape my thinking and opens up whole new possibilities. Moments where He tells me to stop worrying, that He has my future in His hands and even blesses me with a glimpse of what it may look like - so long as I keep on saying yes to Him.
The past week and a half have been a struggle for me. Talks on and discussions about marriage and singleness and having families made it abundantly clear that God was asking me to do more than just entrust my choice of husband to Him: He was asking me to put my dream of a husband in a drawer - potentially permanently.
Which also meant putting my dreams of bearing my own children in a drawer.
Now, before you all jump on whatever bandwagon it is you're about to jump on, let me explain.
I've known for a while now that there is a call on my life to live and serve in places that are dangerous to people it would be dangerous to associate with. And, to be perfectly honest, the thinking of the last few weeks has not been knew thinking - this has just been the first time I haven't skirted the issue. The first time I have had to really face the matter - and all that it entails - head on. And deal with the consequences.
And yes, the pain.
Do I want a family? Yes.
Do I want a husband? Yes.
Do I want to hear my children's first cries? See their first steps? Hold them as they cry? Yearn to soothe their teething pains? Deal with their broken hearts? Teach them about what it means to live - and to live as a child of God? Yes, oh yes!
But far more than that, I want to serve God. I want to be free to go where He calls me, when He calls me.
And I'm not giving up my those dreams - just putting them in a drawer. They're still there. And I firmly believe that if God chooses to, He will fulfill them. But, as a friend of mine said, if there is a man God wants me to marry, I will not be able to avoiding meeting Him just because I choose to serve God first. And serving God does come first.
Still, even knowing that God does come first and that He might still fulfill those dreams, the past few days have been a struggle. I have been in tears at least once and come close to them more than once at the thought that I might never be a mother. I might never be a wife. (Because surely it's better to realize that, process and embrace it now than to turn around in 20 years time and be bitter about not having anything? Surely life will be the sweeter whatever happens if I don't expect those particular gifts. Because they are gifts, not entitlements.)
Then, yesterday afternoon, I walk into my bedroom to see that Mum had bought me a book I'd been eying off for months - Kisses from Katie.
And as I read those words, as I read the story of that woman not much older than me - the same age as me when she first set out - who just said yes to God, who just keeps on saying yes, and the crazy, out-of-this-world way God has used her simple yes to transform hundreds of lives. Her own included. The way that 18 year old just out of high school wound up as a 26 year old with 13 adopted girls (or more) and the founder of an entire ministry in the villages of Uganda. How the girl who gave up her dreams, her boyfriend, her friends, found herself living a dream far more wondrous and more fulfilling than anything she could have dared imagine. As I read about all that; I realize something:
The friend who held me after my confession of heart break over the weeks realisation was right: I will always be a mother.
I will always be a mother because there will always be people who need to know the love of a mother and I have that love and a reason to give it to them. I have a Father telling me to love the orphan because He loves them. Because He loves them and He wants them to know that, but how can they if they've never known love?
And all I have to do is keep saying yes. To keep saying yes to loving the people right in front of me. To keep saying yes to loving people I've never yet met. To keep saying yes to loving God. To just keep saying yes to God.
My life will go to places far greater and far more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. Because the very centre of God's will is wondrous.
And a sense of deep peace fills my soul. No, more than that, a sense of deep, wild, excited joy, of glee fills me up.
And that crazy girl from Nashville, Tennessee and her 13 Ugandan children teach me a lesson about living solely for God: the joy, the sheer, inexplicable, all-consuming joy of obeying God far outweighs the pain of any sacrifices that are made along the way.
Sunday 31 August 2014
Monday 18 August 2014
Things to Remember When You're Struggling with Temptation
I had a realization last night. It was one of those things where you think of something you've always known in a slightly different light and suddenly you find yourself blown away.
I was chatting to one of the woman at church about Jesus. About how He was 100% human, so He faced all the temptations we face. About how He was also 100% divine, so He never gave in to those temptations.
And it struck me, as we spoke, that that meant Jesus was tempted by sex.
It also struck me that it meant Jesus was tempted to be discouraged over His singleness. To be discontent with His lot in life. (And let's face it, which of us would be content knowing that our life was lived for the purpose of dying to save a bunch of people who didn't care in the least?)
Yeah, He face sexual temptation. And discontentment temptation. And selfishness temptation. And laziness temptation. And gluttony temptation. And lying temptation. And every temptation under the sun.
And He stood firm.
He did not once compromise His godliness and sinlessness.
And somehow we think there's this big no-no when it comes to temptations. As though admitting we even have them makes us look weak, never mind actually giving into them.
There's a shame that goes with being tempted. How dare that good Christian boy/girl struggle against the temptation to think lustfully? How dare that good Christian boy/girl struggle against the temptation to lie? To steal? To (fill blank with your biggest temptation)?
And it's a shame that stops us from talking to each other. But even worse, it's a shame that stops us from talking to God?
And how crazy is that when God as man was tempted in just the same ways we are?
Why do we have this nutso idea that we can only come to God when we've got everything right?
Why do we think the Church is a boarding house for saints when really it's the ER for sinners?
Why does the Christian who doesn't have it all together get condemned and judged by other Christians? Maybe it's because we're all hoping that if people are looking at others they will be too busy to look at us.
Too busy to see that we really should not put that DVD into the player because oh my word does it make us hate our lives.
Too busy to see that we really should not read that book because the amount of time we spend pouring over that sex scene is, well, sinful.
Too busy to see that we really should not go on Youtube because it just sucks all of our time away.
Too busy to see all those little temptations we face. Too busy to see all those little ways we give into them.
And maybe, if they don't see them, then God doesn't and we'll still be acceptable as His child...
And suddenly, we're not going to God with empty hands. We're going to God with hands hidden behind our backs clutching guilt and shame. And how are we meant to cling to the cross like that?
And so we don't talk about it. We don't pray about it. And all the while we're slowly dying and God is calling "While you were still sinners, I died for you. Not after you got it all together, while you were still sinners. Nothing can separate you from my love, not even that temptation, that sin you think you're hiding from me.
"Let go of it. Let me take it away. Just trust in my grace."
O, my dear, dear friend, I'm as guilty of this as everybody else. I think I have to go to God with all my problems solved. As if the Creator of the Universe doesn't already have the solution.
I think I somehow have to not be tempted so that will accept me. As if the God who became a man doesn't know what temptation is. Doesn't know how to fight it.
And when every day is a battle against something, why don't I go to my commander for advice?
When every day is filled with guilt, why don't I let go and trust God when He promises that nothing, nothing will ever separate us from Him as long as we cling to Him?
When every day is full of weariness and exhaustion, why don't we answer when God says "come to me, you who are weary, and I will give you rest?"
So, next time we face temptation, why don't we pray?
Why don't we pray to the God who understands because He was a man?
Why don't we pray to the God who faced temptation and won?
Why don't we pray to the God who counts us as righteous because of the blood of Christ?
Why don't we pray to the God who chose us to be heirs of eternal life in the full knowledge that we would be sinful?
Why don't we pray to the God who already knows every little detail about us - and has proved He loves us anyway?
Life is a battle against spiritual forces - so let's fight as we are. Members of the family that has already won, because of the Father who defeated death and sin and temptation.
I was chatting to one of the woman at church about Jesus. About how He was 100% human, so He faced all the temptations we face. About how He was also 100% divine, so He never gave in to those temptations.
And it struck me, as we spoke, that that meant Jesus was tempted by sex.
It also struck me that it meant Jesus was tempted to be discouraged over His singleness. To be discontent with His lot in life. (And let's face it, which of us would be content knowing that our life was lived for the purpose of dying to save a bunch of people who didn't care in the least?)
Yeah, He face sexual temptation. And discontentment temptation. And selfishness temptation. And laziness temptation. And gluttony temptation. And lying temptation. And every temptation under the sun.
And He stood firm.
He did not once compromise His godliness and sinlessness.
And somehow we think there's this big no-no when it comes to temptations. As though admitting we even have them makes us look weak, never mind actually giving into them.
There's a shame that goes with being tempted. How dare that good Christian boy/girl struggle against the temptation to think lustfully? How dare that good Christian boy/girl struggle against the temptation to lie? To steal? To (fill blank with your biggest temptation)?
And it's a shame that stops us from talking to each other. But even worse, it's a shame that stops us from talking to God?
And how crazy is that when God as man was tempted in just the same ways we are?
Why do we have this nutso idea that we can only come to God when we've got everything right?
Why do we think the Church is a boarding house for saints when really it's the ER for sinners?
Why does the Christian who doesn't have it all together get condemned and judged by other Christians? Maybe it's because we're all hoping that if people are looking at others they will be too busy to look at us.
Too busy to see that we really should not put that DVD into the player because oh my word does it make us hate our lives.
Too busy to see that we really should not read that book because the amount of time we spend pouring over that sex scene is, well, sinful.
Too busy to see that we really should not go on Youtube because it just sucks all of our time away.
Too busy to see all those little temptations we face. Too busy to see all those little ways we give into them.
And maybe, if they don't see them, then God doesn't and we'll still be acceptable as His child...
And suddenly, we're not going to God with empty hands. We're going to God with hands hidden behind our backs clutching guilt and shame. And how are we meant to cling to the cross like that?
And so we don't talk about it. We don't pray about it. And all the while we're slowly dying and God is calling "While you were still sinners, I died for you. Not after you got it all together, while you were still sinners. Nothing can separate you from my love, not even that temptation, that sin you think you're hiding from me.
"Let go of it. Let me take it away. Just trust in my grace."
O, my dear, dear friend, I'm as guilty of this as everybody else. I think I have to go to God with all my problems solved. As if the Creator of the Universe doesn't already have the solution.
I think I somehow have to not be tempted so that will accept me. As if the God who became a man doesn't know what temptation is. Doesn't know how to fight it.
And when every day is a battle against something, why don't I go to my commander for advice?
When every day is filled with guilt, why don't I let go and trust God when He promises that nothing, nothing will ever separate us from Him as long as we cling to Him?
When every day is full of weariness and exhaustion, why don't we answer when God says "come to me, you who are weary, and I will give you rest?"
So, next time we face temptation, why don't we pray?
Why don't we pray to the God who understands because He was a man?
Why don't we pray to the God who faced temptation and won?
Why don't we pray to the God who counts us as righteous because of the blood of Christ?
Why don't we pray to the God who chose us to be heirs of eternal life in the full knowledge that we would be sinful?
Why don't we pray to the God who already knows every little detail about us - and has proved He loves us anyway?
Life is a battle against spiritual forces - so let's fight as we are. Members of the family that has already won, because of the Father who defeated death and sin and temptation.
Thursday 14 August 2014
The Gift of Now
So, I was sorting through some papers that had accumulated on the desk now removed from my room. It's surprising what builds up over a twelvemonth (ok... it's been longer...).
As I sifted through the piles, most of it well out of date and needing to meet the recycling bin, I came across a letter I wrote to a friend. But never got around to sending. Life gets a bit like that.
Still, I decided to read it. Wanted to know what I'd been thinking all those months ago. What I'd thought important enough to write down.
Having settled down to read it, the thick paper rough in my hands, I was glad I did. It reminded me of something I've been forgetting to do recently.
So, I'm going to share it here, because I'm sure I'm not the only one.
"I hope you'll stop a moment to read this letter. I hope you'll take a minute to breathe, to see that in this moment, in this second, you are blessed. This second, you are alive. In this second you breathe in the richness of God's world, you see the glory of His creation.
"I know that the next few months will be busy. know they will be full of goodbyes. I know they will be full of pain. I have been there.
"Time is the most precious of gifts, the most valuable of all commodities. Once it is gone, there is no bringing it back. Yet so many of us allow it to slip through our fingers, letting it run like sand, too busy to see that it is really gold dust.
"In the business of life and the distractions of work, it seems we can not find time to simply be. We long for hours with friends that we may have memories to share forever. Yet this is unattainable, for who has hours to spare? Not I, that's for sure.
"Stop a moment to read this letter. Take a moment to breathe, to see that in this moment, in this second, you are blessed. In this second, you are alive. In this second, you breathe in the richness of God's world, you see the glory of His creation. Enjoy this moment, for you may not get another.
"Forget about chasing after hours. It is meaningless, for when you turn, you find you have run past the hours, through them. Instead, look for the moments. Don't miss the joke your brother tells, or the sound of your friend's laugh. Don't be too busy to miss the sun or the rain. Look for each moment. Treasure every minute. For they are a gift from God. When you look on every moment, every laugh, smile, joke, tear, exchange in the hallway, you'll find He has given you hours.
"Stopping to smell the roses doesn't mean you sit with the roses and ignore the rest of the garden. It just means you don't rush through the garden and miss the colours and the smells. Pause with every moment and think "thank you, God, for now".
"In years to come, how you spent your hours with your friends will be forgotten, but those little moments will still be with you.
"And this is why I wrote a letter, instead of sending a Skype or Facebook message. I wanted you to stop a moment to read this letter. To take a moment to breathe, to see that in this moment, in this second, you are blessed. In this second, you are alive. In this second, you breathe in the richness of God's world, you see the glory of His creation.
"Give over worrying about how you'll spend tomorrow. Tomorrow may never come, and if it does, it will take care of itself. Today is a gift. Tomorrow is just a promise of more.
"With all God's love, LRD"
As I sifted through the piles, most of it well out of date and needing to meet the recycling bin, I came across a letter I wrote to a friend. But never got around to sending. Life gets a bit like that.
Still, I decided to read it. Wanted to know what I'd been thinking all those months ago. What I'd thought important enough to write down.
Having settled down to read it, the thick paper rough in my hands, I was glad I did. It reminded me of something I've been forgetting to do recently.
So, I'm going to share it here, because I'm sure I'm not the only one.
"I hope you'll stop a moment to read this letter. I hope you'll take a minute to breathe, to see that in this moment, in this second, you are blessed. This second, you are alive. In this second you breathe in the richness of God's world, you see the glory of His creation.
"I know that the next few months will be busy. know they will be full of goodbyes. I know they will be full of pain. I have been there.
"Time is the most precious of gifts, the most valuable of all commodities. Once it is gone, there is no bringing it back. Yet so many of us allow it to slip through our fingers, letting it run like sand, too busy to see that it is really gold dust.
"In the business of life and the distractions of work, it seems we can not find time to simply be. We long for hours with friends that we may have memories to share forever. Yet this is unattainable, for who has hours to spare? Not I, that's for sure.
"Stop a moment to read this letter. Take a moment to breathe, to see that in this moment, in this second, you are blessed. In this second, you are alive. In this second, you breathe in the richness of God's world, you see the glory of His creation. Enjoy this moment, for you may not get another.
"Forget about chasing after hours. It is meaningless, for when you turn, you find you have run past the hours, through them. Instead, look for the moments. Don't miss the joke your brother tells, or the sound of your friend's laugh. Don't be too busy to miss the sun or the rain. Look for each moment. Treasure every minute. For they are a gift from God. When you look on every moment, every laugh, smile, joke, tear, exchange in the hallway, you'll find He has given you hours.
"Stopping to smell the roses doesn't mean you sit with the roses and ignore the rest of the garden. It just means you don't rush through the garden and miss the colours and the smells. Pause with every moment and think "thank you, God, for now".
"In years to come, how you spent your hours with your friends will be forgotten, but those little moments will still be with you.
"And this is why I wrote a letter, instead of sending a Skype or Facebook message. I wanted you to stop a moment to read this letter. To take a moment to breathe, to see that in this moment, in this second, you are blessed. In this second, you are alive. In this second, you breathe in the richness of God's world, you see the glory of His creation.
"Give over worrying about how you'll spend tomorrow. Tomorrow may never come, and if it does, it will take care of itself. Today is a gift. Tomorrow is just a promise of more.
"With all God's love, LRD"
Tuesday 12 August 2014
Where is God when it Hurts?
In these days, weeks, months, of horrible brutality and suffering, the question that comes to mind is "where is God?"
As children are slaughtered by bombs falling in Gaza, the natural question is "does God care?"
As Christians, and other minorities, are forced from their homes with a path of destruction carved out through them, we all must ask "why does God let this happen?"
When we wake up to the news that one of the greatest comedians of our times has died - most likely by suicide - the belief that there is no joy, no God who cares seems almost reasonable.
On a more personal level when things are not working out the way you think they should, it's easy to wonder if God is really worth it.
And it is easy, seeing all the pain and the terrors in the world to grow numb. Numb to the pain. But numb also to the joy. Numb to the ugliness. But numb also to the beauty.
I was recently down at the river, the one near my house. It is a beautiful spot. The sunlight was warm through the leaves of the trees. The ducks swam in the water. A man fished on the bank while his children played around him. Music filled the air from a band performing near the play equipment.
It was beautiful.
And I didn't really notice it until I had left because I was too busy being upset and angry over everything else that was happening.
And I'm not saying we view the world through rose coloured glasses. I'm not saying that we pretend people are not capable of, are not doing, acts of horrible, horrible brutality.
But what I am saying is let's not view the world through grey coloured glasses. Let's not pretend that there is no beauty.
Let's not forget that people are still falling in love and committing to love each other for the rest of their lives.
Let's not forget that couple who, after more than 60 years of marriage, died together.
Let's not forget the sound of a child laughing.
Let's not forget the warmth of sunlight, the refreshment of rain, the beauty of sunset.
And when I remember those things, I remember something else: God does care. The fact that there is still beauty, still compassion, still joy when everything is telling us how terrible the world is shows us that.
And sure, it doesn't make the pain easier. It doesn't make the suffering less. I don't want to say it does.
I read Lamentations on Sunday. I'd advise you go do the same.
While I was reading Lamentations, I cam across words that were very, very familiar. Words that I've seen printed on mugs, on paintings, in cards. Words that people use almost like a catchphrase.
Except this time, they shocked me. They leapt out of the page at me. They seized me by the throat and instead I look at them. I read them. I understood what they were saying.
And it wasn't because of what is going on the world now.
It was because of what was going on in the book around them.
The context made them shocking and wonderful. It made them discordant and beautiful. It made them a reminder of God's faithfulness in the realest sense.
And what was the context?
Jerusalem, the poets home, was in ruins.
Many of his friends and family were enslaved by the Babylonians.
People were so desperate for food they were cooking and eating their own children.
The streets were littered with the corpses of people, cut down by the sword - people both young and old. The enemy had been indiscriminate.
The poet is acknowledging that it is God who has afflicted Israel. After all, He is in control. It is God who has decreed this horror befall them.
Yet in the midst of this, in the midst of this, he says:
And yet, his belief not based purely on his need to believe it - though that is a factor.
It is based on the history of his people. On the way God grew them from one man with no sons to an entire nation - in keeping with His promises to that one man. On the way God rescued them from slavery in Egypt. On the way He brought them into their own land and made them powerful. On the way He sent someone to rescue them every single time they were in trouble.
And history shows his faith was justified.
70 years after the Babylonians invaded them, leaving them for dead or as slaves, another king - one prophecied by name - came along and returned them to their home.
And not only did he return them, but he gave them protection. Not only did he protect them, he assisted them with rebuilding their temple and Jerusalem.
God had punished His people - but He had not abandoned them. He had not ceased caring.
The poet of Lamentations was absolutely right when he continued to trust in God.
And this doesn't necessarily answer all our questions. It doesn't really answer the question of "why?". But the why isn't really what matters, is it?
What matters is that we realize that God does care.
That God weeps for the pain and suffering just as much as we do. More, even, for He has nurtured each and every one of the people involved.
He formed them in the womb. He mapped out their lives.
He raised them. He nurtured them. He loves them.
Did He know this was going to happen? Yes.
Is He in control of what is happening? Yes.
Does He care about what is happening? That is absolutely one big, fat, definite YES!
And how can we know? How can we trust this? How can we have faith in this?
There is still beauty - the ugliness has not yet swallowed it up.
There is still freedom - the oppression has not yet stripped it away.
There is still love - the hatred has not yet crushed it.
There is still compassion - the cruelty has not yet sent it away.
There is still us - we can do something. We can bring relief to the suffering. We can pressure governments to do something. We can search for the truth and make it known.
But, and far more importantly, God has proven in the most dramatic way that He cares about us. That He cares that we are lost and suffering and trapped.
He sent His son to rescue us.
And this is something grounded in history (a discussion for another time), not just a vague mumbo jumbo thing from the mists of time.
So, we can have faith that God is there and God cares even when horrible things happen, because history shows He is and He does.
We can have faith because He is still present today.
We can hold onto the thought that "the faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning."
As children are slaughtered by bombs falling in Gaza, the natural question is "does God care?"
As Christians, and other minorities, are forced from their homes with a path of destruction carved out through them, we all must ask "why does God let this happen?"
When we wake up to the news that one of the greatest comedians of our times has died - most likely by suicide - the belief that there is no joy, no God who cares seems almost reasonable.
On a more personal level when things are not working out the way you think they should, it's easy to wonder if God is really worth it.
And it is easy, seeing all the pain and the terrors in the world to grow numb. Numb to the pain. But numb also to the joy. Numb to the ugliness. But numb also to the beauty.
I was recently down at the river, the one near my house. It is a beautiful spot. The sunlight was warm through the leaves of the trees. The ducks swam in the water. A man fished on the bank while his children played around him. Music filled the air from a band performing near the play equipment.
It was beautiful.
And I didn't really notice it until I had left because I was too busy being upset and angry over everything else that was happening.
And I'm not saying we view the world through rose coloured glasses. I'm not saying that we pretend people are not capable of, are not doing, acts of horrible, horrible brutality.
But what I am saying is let's not view the world through grey coloured glasses. Let's not pretend that there is no beauty.
Let's not forget that people are still falling in love and committing to love each other for the rest of their lives.
Let's not forget that couple who, after more than 60 years of marriage, died together.
Let's not forget the sound of a child laughing.
Let's not forget the warmth of sunlight, the refreshment of rain, the beauty of sunset.
And when I remember those things, I remember something else: God does care. The fact that there is still beauty, still compassion, still joy when everything is telling us how terrible the world is shows us that.
And sure, it doesn't make the pain easier. It doesn't make the suffering less. I don't want to say it does.
I read Lamentations on Sunday. I'd advise you go do the same.
While I was reading Lamentations, I cam across words that were very, very familiar. Words that I've seen printed on mugs, on paintings, in cards. Words that people use almost like a catchphrase.
The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning. ~ Lamentations 3: 22 - 23They're familiar, aren't they? Comfortable?
Except this time, they shocked me. They leapt out of the page at me. They seized me by the throat and instead I look at them. I read them. I understood what they were saying.
And it wasn't because of what is going on the world now.
It was because of what was going on in the book around them.
The context made them shocking and wonderful. It made them discordant and beautiful. It made them a reminder of God's faithfulness in the realest sense.
And what was the context?
Jerusalem, the poets home, was in ruins.
Many of his friends and family were enslaved by the Babylonians.
People were so desperate for food they were cooking and eating their own children.
The streets were littered with the corpses of people, cut down by the sword - people both young and old. The enemy had been indiscriminate.
The poet is acknowledging that it is God who has afflicted Israel. After all, He is in control. It is God who has decreed this horror befall them.
Yet in the midst of this, in the midst of this, he says:
The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
His mercies never cease.
Great is His faithfulness;
His mercies begin afresh each morning.
I say to myself "the Lord is my inheritance;
therefore I will hope in Him!"
The Lord is good to those who depend on him,
to those who search for Him.
So it is good to wait quietly
for salvation from the Lord.
And it is good to submit at an early age
to the yoke of His discipline.
Let them sit alone in silence
beneath the Lord's demands.
Let them lie face down in the dust,
for there maybe hope at last.
Let them turn the other cheek to those who strike them
and accept the insults of their enemies.
For no one is abandoned
by the Lord forever.
Though He brings grief, He also shows compassion
because of the greatness of His unfailing love.
For He does not enjoy hurting people
or causing them sorrow.And the question on the table is surely this is foolishness? The poet himself has said God has abandoned him, has brought these sorrows on him. So why does he cling to the belief that God is faithful? That God is loving? That God will be compassionate?
And yet, his belief not based purely on his need to believe it - though that is a factor.
It is based on the history of his people. On the way God grew them from one man with no sons to an entire nation - in keeping with His promises to that one man. On the way God rescued them from slavery in Egypt. On the way He brought them into their own land and made them powerful. On the way He sent someone to rescue them every single time they were in trouble.
And history shows his faith was justified.
70 years after the Babylonians invaded them, leaving them for dead or as slaves, another king - one prophecied by name - came along and returned them to their home.
And not only did he return them, but he gave them protection. Not only did he protect them, he assisted them with rebuilding their temple and Jerusalem.
God had punished His people - but He had not abandoned them. He had not ceased caring.
The poet of Lamentations was absolutely right when he continued to trust in God.
And this doesn't necessarily answer all our questions. It doesn't really answer the question of "why?". But the why isn't really what matters, is it?
What matters is that we realize that God does care.
That God weeps for the pain and suffering just as much as we do. More, even, for He has nurtured each and every one of the people involved.
He formed them in the womb. He mapped out their lives.
He raised them. He nurtured them. He loves them.
Did He know this was going to happen? Yes.
Is He in control of what is happening? Yes.
Does He care about what is happening? That is absolutely one big, fat, definite YES!
And how can we know? How can we trust this? How can we have faith in this?
There is still beauty - the ugliness has not yet swallowed it up.
There is still freedom - the oppression has not yet stripped it away.
There is still love - the hatred has not yet crushed it.
There is still compassion - the cruelty has not yet sent it away.
There is still us - we can do something. We can bring relief to the suffering. We can pressure governments to do something. We can search for the truth and make it known.
But, and far more importantly, God has proven in the most dramatic way that He cares about us. That He cares that we are lost and suffering and trapped.
He sent His son to rescue us.
And this is something grounded in history (a discussion for another time), not just a vague mumbo jumbo thing from the mists of time.
So, we can have faith that God is there and God cares even when horrible things happen, because history shows He is and He does.
We can have faith because He is still present today.
We can hold onto the thought that "the faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning."
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