What do you do with a God that does not seem to always be there? How do you stay true to a God that seems reckless and dangerous at times?
A really great woman I enjoy who struggles with sleep brought up the verse that says God gives sleep to those He loves. The emotion in her eyes resonated with me as she wrestled with the "why" inherent in her situation.
As a child I called out to God to rescue me and He refused.
As a mother I called out for protection for my children in a specific area and God did not choose to say yes.
Paul called out for the removal of a bitter thorn in his flesh. God said no.
Job begged God for relief and justification in the eyes of his accusers. God did not come through in the way Job asked.
Peter was part of a crowd sickened by Jesus's call for his followers to eat his flesh and drink his blood. Jesus came to Peter and asked for his thoughts. Peter, full of the same anguish, said where else can I go; you hold the words of life.
What are we to do with this God that is our everything and yet refuses to make sense. We are captured by our frailty and His strength. There is no other option if we are to live and yet it seems so dangerous.
The answer lies in the greater good. I often deny my children's desires so that they might have something greater. God does the same.
I read Tortured for Christ, this weekend and was shocked to learn the attitude of one so desperately tortured. He reached a place where the suffering became more valuable than comfort and safety. To many Christians imprisoned for their faith, God offers an unimaginable oneness of spirit during the torture that becomes far more intoxicating than the hope of relief.
So I cling to the promise that God will be relentless in pursuing what is best for me. He will occasionally say No, Wait, or fill my ears with silence. He will suffer through the torrent of pain and questions that fill my soul. He will withstand the accusations that He does not care. He will seem uncaring, unfair, harsh, and unfeeling in my limited understanding so that He can deliver me into the greater good.
So in the silent, cold and hard times I need to hold to the truth that one day I will cling to Him and wash His feet with tears of gratitude for the times that He allowed pain, no matter how pitiful my cries, so that I could come closer to the glorious purpose He envisioned for me.
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe:
"'Safe?' said Mr. Beaver...'Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.'"
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