Father Knows Best

We all have habits -- some good, some not so good. Like the person who asks you a question and, before you've had a chance to even process what they've said, they are offering options. So, you allow them to finish and begin you repl-- they've interrupted again, "I could leave it over here, if you like."

"Well, I th--"

"Or, I could move it over there. I left it there yesterday." 

"If you pu--" And on it goes.

I feel like we are that way with our Heavenly Father sometimes. Before He's had a chance to answer or just as we begin to see His plan take shape we interject ourselves. Especially if it appears God's ways will make us a little bit poorer, maybe a little inconvenienced, a little more uncomfortable, perhaps a bit more humbled or less relevant. I mean, do I have to do without in order to learn gratitude? Maybe so. Through Isaiah, God tells us His ways are higher than our ways, and His thoughts higher than our thoughts. Our Heavenly Father sees it all! His vision is not limited by time or walls or deceptions. He knows what is best for us and for His glory. But that's not an easy truth to swallow -- or follow.

For instance, the adult who grew up in a dysfunctional household. Of course they didn't want that! Their Father didn't want that! But those the world would called "damaged" are living, breathing examples of God's grace! God was there to do all those things a loving parent does: preserve their lives, speak encouragement to them, restore order in the midst of chaos, teach them right from wrong, love them harder and better than any other parent -- dysfunctional or otherwise -- could! Those children were raised by God Himself! It was hard. It's not what we would like to think is the right way; but it's the Father's way.

I'm going to turn things up a notch and ask you a really uncomfortable question. If the death of your newborn brought about the repentance of your wife, or your father-in-law, or a neighbor would you interrupt that plan? Would you be grateful that, because God had your child with Him, another child had come to know Him? What if -- to your knowledge -- no one came to know the Lord, if you could find no purpose in the death of your child? Would you be okay with what your Father had allowed?

Too often we prefer our suggestions, our opinions over God's. They seem to make sense. And sometimes, they definitely feel more comfortable. But, would you prefer the Father never impressed upon you the value of life or home or family or each ordinary day? Would you prefer He didn't love you enough to discipline you? Would you prefer God never propelled you forward in your faith or strengthened you in your walk with Him? Would you prefer your Father never protected you from something worse by giving you something bad? Or manipulated events to bring Him glory? (If you can answer "no" to that one, you better check yourself.)

Our Heavenly Father loves us beyond all comprehension and is sovereign beyond human ability. Trust me -- trust Him. Father knows best.

I Demand a Reasonable Explanation!

I am waiting on test results right now. "If the results are positive, it could be..." Do you know the drill?

Some annoying health issues have popped up -- issues I attributed to my aging carcass maturing form. "If this is my 'new normal' I want no parts of it," I recall saying. It turns out I might be in luck -- this collective of maladies might be caused by a real live health issue; not aging. "That's much more like it," I thought; "I knew there was a reasonable explanation!"

What's truly unreasonable is, I am preferring the option of managing a lifelong condition over the inevitable norm of aging. Now, I'm not actually praying for bad results, but I've been asking for an "answer". What if the answer is, I'm just getting old? What's my problem with aging?

Well, I love my truck. If I sat in my driveway each day with my truck idling I would put "miles" on the engine and use fuel, but I'd be going nowhere. I would never experience the enjoyment of cruising down the road and discovering new places; all that wear and tear would be without purpose. I feel like that now. I'm aging; I'm well on my way to crepey skin, cataracts, incontinence, thinning hair, forgetfulness, brittle bones, and unchecked flatulence. But, though I'm old enough to hurt and old enough to be tired, I'm not old enough to benefit from it. I can't retire; I can't do what I want; I can't even get my 10% at Chili's! I am in "age limbo." Just like my idling truck, there are plenty of "miles" but I haven't gone anywhere! I'm fourteen all over again -- too old to play with the little kids, but not old enough to play with the big kids. It's awkward, and uncomfortable, and I'm not liking it one bit.

But here's the thing -- it's not about me. Whether I'm fifty-three or twenty-three or eighty-three, this is all just a block on the calendar, a dot on the map. It's my life lived in and through and by and for Christ that holds significance. Without Christ I am nothing more than a deteriorating corpse. He is my life, and He gives whatever this aging body is going through meaning. My purpose or worth is not measured by the number of miles I've traveled, but Whose call I was following; and whether He leads me down the quiet road of age spots and orthopedic shoes, or a chronic condition, He will bring me through it. He is my strength when I am aching from age or aching from poor health; He is my fortress when I am weary from old age or weary from poor health. He is my comfort when I am in limbo or in crisis.

By demanding "some reasonable explanation" or purpose for my problems, I am saying, "I can do this as long as there's some good reason for it;" but I am not meant to do anything other than surrender to what God wills. It is not my job to endure it or establish a purpose for it. What do I even know about good and bad? In point of fact, I may never know why He's taking me down this road, or He's got me idling in the drive. The "why" is of little consequence as long as I am leaning on the One who carries me so completely.

Tired of the Same Ol' Routine?

It was quiet except for the song of crickets. I stepped out onto the brick walk, mentally preparing for the drive home. The trees were backlit by the blue-grey glow of the setting sun, and fireflies were floating just above the grass. The air, though still laced with the humidity of a hot July day, had become a little cooler, relinquishing most of its oppressiveness. An hour of driving was before me, on winding country roads, at a time of day I would normally be asleep; but it was not unfamiliar terrain or heavy eyelids that disturbed me. It was the familiar; it was weariness; it was leaving the serenity and fellowship I'd known for the last few hours and heading back to responsibility, work, and the busyness of urban life. I felt burdened. "Why can't I...?" Go here. Do that. "Why isn't my...?" Life like this. My family like that.

Maybe you've thought something similar from time to time. Not a shallow ingratitude or jealousy, but a weariness, a heaviness that immediately leads us to wish we were somewhere else, someone else. James K.A. Smith said, " Sometimes the difference between drudgery and epiphany is just seeing things from the right angle." And that ideology appeals to my inner optimist, but what happens when your inner optimist has run out of steam?

"God shows up." It's an expression our pastor loves to use. God is there all the time, each day, in the extraordinary and the mundane. And sometimes it's in the extraordinary we see Him best: the brilliant sunrise, the cry of our first child, the money that "arrives" to the pay the taxes, the hardened father who comes to know Jesus. When there is "simply no other explanation," God is effortlessly revealed to us. And who among us has not sought and deeply known God in the impossible and hopeless moments of life? But what about the ordinary? Is God in the routine and frustration of caring for a disabled child each day? How do I find God when I've answered the same question or made the same request multiple times? What is God doing when doctors are telling you the same thing over and over and none of it seems to make any sense? Where is God when you are nodding to the same guards week after week, and you know you will be until you die or she does? God shows up.

Not that He wasn't there all along -- He was; He is. But, if we look, if we seek, God will become just as evident in the all too familiar as He is in the strange and insurmountable and wonderful. It's more than just an internal optimism, a "looking on the bright side" that comes from within ourselves. It's more than just searching for purpose and fulfillment in our commitment to that purpose; seeking a gift or looking for answers. Our search is a search for God, a search for the Giver Himself, the Way, the Truth, the Life; our search is to know Jesus and who He is, in abundance. Our quest is not a quest for relief from the weariness and sameness of our life; but a search for Strength and Life Himself.