Thursday, March 15, 2012
The pendulum swing of emotions that have plagued me these last 24 hours have left me battered and bruised. The kind that have you asking deep spiritual and philosophical questions....like "why"?
The mountain top of joy as a friend's test results come back clean to the depths of pain and sadness at the news a young mother is losing her battle with an ugly disease.
"WHY"? Why does a mother who loves and cherishes her children have to leave them motherless, when another mother is abusing and letting her children be abused and will continue the horrific pattern for years? I'm wrestling with these questions and emotions that roll and surge within me....sadness, anger, frustration...fear.
So I sit and roll the "why" over and over in my mind. My God is big enough...big enough to do whatever..."why not....?" I slowly begin to realize that it is not for me to know. I can only glimpse a small portion of a much bigger story...a story that I have not written...I am simply a small player in a much bigger drama.
I'm reminded of Eve in the garden. "Why" did she eat the fruit? It says she wanted to be as wise as God. Today I think it wasn't so much to have the wisdom of God, but rather to "know". To know the outcome of the story, to know where pain might lie in wait to snatch her heart, to be sure her loved ones would be safe and happy...to be in control...to be sure in her own finite, human mind that everything would be okay in the end. That was her downfall...to want to "know" the end of the story she was not in charge of writing...but instead in charge of living...living in faith and dependance on the author.
I'm asking myself today what would happen if I had the opportunity to steal the book that contained my story and flip to the end? If I knew the outcome? I realize this is why my human mind cannot grasp God's bigger picture. If I knew my complete story, all the good, bad and ugly, I don't think I would be able to live life fully. I'd constantly be trying to edit my story...to perhaps change content and ultimately the end result.
And yet, as I write those words, I stop and think,
"Am I not doing just that...in fact am I living in faith and dependance on the author of my story?"