I have written deeply profound things in this bit of on-line encyclopedia of deeply profound things. I had always intended my 100th post to be something that was extraordinarily written, destined to be in the Blog Hall of Fame.
Well, not so much.
I'm struggling with hard questions right now. The kinds of questions that don't have answers and that are uncomfortable to even ask. So much so, that part of my energy each day is spent with trying to convince myself I don't really have those questions at all.
Right now I'm feeling like "Well then why pray?" If I believe God can do anything (and I do) but He doesn't answer, what good was my prayer for anyway? Did it change the situation at all? No. Did it change me? No. It didn't. I'm not more noble than I was when I started praying this prayer. I'm not more unselfish. I'm still hurt, I'm still confused and yes I'm even still a wee bit ticked off. Ticked off? At GOD?? Now you see why I'm exerting all my energy at trying to convince my mind that I didn't really mean that. A good friend lost her dad this past Sunday morning. She's way too young to be facing life without him in her life (your thirties is way too young) and I just didn't want her to experience this hurt yet. Her dad was an incredible man of God who used the whole of his life to reflect the glory of the One he served. One of the more obvious measures of that is the life of my friend, who though wwaaaaayyyy younger than me has taught me so much about faith and friendship and prayer and marriage and joy. Her dad served the community he lived in and the family of God he shepherded in. No doubt at all the man is dancing with Jesus this morning, free from the tumor that had entered his brain uninvited and robbed him of years he would have otherwise spent here sharing the good news of Jesus. SO why????? Why, when a man would do so much to advance the kingdom, cut his life short? My head knows that Sunday morning was the very best day of Dennis Hogue's life. My head knows that. But my heart breaks for Pam and her mom and sister and brothers. My despair is for their pain and for those grandbabies who will grow up without their Granddad. And above all else, I guess confusion. I know you could have healed him Lord. I believe that. I just don't understand why you didn't.
Ultimately, that's where faith that is "the evidence of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (Heb. 11:1) comes in to play. I know there have been times where I as a parent have said no to my children. I'm not talking about the times when what they wanted was wrong or dangerous or ill-advised. I'm talking about the things that were good, would have been enjoyable and memorable...but still I said no. I knew something they didn't know. I could see the big picture. I knew there was something even better around the corner.
Maybe that's what this is all about...there's something better around the corner. And these painful goodbyes make us a little more aware, a little more connected to that hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment