"This is what it means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life, and you survive."
That song from my last post has been in my mind for days. I can't stop singing it and for some reason I am clinging to it right now. I'm not sure why. It might have something to do with this precious mother and the possibility that her 9 month old son may not survive the heart problems he is enduring. I don't know them personally, I just read her blog (along with thousands of other moms like me) and I pray for her baby boy. And for her. Because I simply cannot imagine what she is going through. And I don't understand why a mother like her - deeply committed to her husband and children, and her Savior - would ever have to pray for her child to live.
It makes me wonder about the power of prayer. Ssssh, I didn't say that. I know better. I am much stronger in my faith to ever wonder about such things. I never ask the question "why does God allow the prayers of His faithful to go unanswered?" I am so rock solid in my belief that God knows what is best and blesses those who call Him Savior, that I would never doubt Him like that.
Except that I'm not.
Sometimes God doesn't make sense to me. Even after a lifetime of believing in Him. Even after all the times and countless ways He has proven Himself faithful to me. Even during times of devastation in my life. Especially then, when He has created beauty out of my ashes and has drawn me closer to Him than I ever could have gotten had I not endured suffering. And even after going through at least 4 Beth Moore studies, sometimes He still doesn't make sense to me.
Here's where I segue into a paragraph about how our feeble human minds can't comprehend God's wisdom and awesomeness. I'll talk about how, even in questioning Him, I have grown in my faith and that only God can pull that off. I'll wrap it up by quoting a few scriptures like Matthew 5:45 or Proverbs 3:5 and maybe even a prayer for God to continue to strengthen my faith.
Except that I'm not going to.
Even though those things are true, I'm not there right now. I'm still on my knees crying out to God saying (sometimes loudly) "I don't get this!"
Why are some things allowed? Why is this little baby still struggling for life, when his parents have been on their knees countless times, pleading for mercy? When there are thousands and thousands of others praying on their behalf. Why are some faithless people, living far outside of God's will, given blessings that the faithful are denied? And why last night was I helping a little girl make a wreath to place on her mother's grave...her mother, who had placed her faith and life in God's hands and whose family and friends prayed for fervently. Who died anyway.
What good do all of these prayers do? I wonder sometimes. It's so easy to say, "God answers prayers! Praise the Lord!"...when we get what we pray for. It's not so easy when those prayers are still hanging in the balance between earth and heaven. Or when it seems they dissipated on their journey like a mist, and never made it to the throne.
How quickly I forget.
All I know is this...whether God makes sense or not, nothing sends me running to the throne faster than realizing that I have reached the end of myself. When a situation in my life has overwhelmed me, and I'm standing there...helpless to get myself out on my own power.
It's in these moments of doubt and confusion and sometimes even anger that I need to cling to the God that I know to be faithful, despite what my deceptive heart tells me. When I need to stop questioning, stop trying to make sense of a senseless world, and trust a God that is sometimes hard to see.
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." Hebrews 10:23
"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1