Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Why? Why? Why?

Over the years, "Why?" has become the world's most useless question to me. And yet, I, like everyone else out there, still ponder it. This inquiry often seems to me like a crazed pooch chasing its tail never to catch it. We agonize over things that we will, more than likely, never know this side of Heaven.

Why did this happen to my child? Is it my fault? Why won't God protect us? Why won't God heal? Why won't the trials stop coming? Why does God treat faithful believers like this? Why don't the really godless have to suffer like this? Why don't people care? Why won't anyone listen? Why? Why? Why?

I don't know about you, but not knowing "why" can inflict outrageous insecurity on me. I need stability that transcends the unknown and fearful. That can only be found in The One who is worthy of our trust. While I know that His ways are beyond my comprehension, I also know that His love for me is unquestionable. If He loves me enough to have given His life for me while I was living as His enemy, then I can trust Him with life's unknowns. I may not have the answers, but He does. I trust that He knows what's best in any situation. If I seek His face, He will guide me through all of life's uncertainties. He always has. He will never leave me not forsake me. And He will recycle or redeem any challenge for my good or His glory.

With that kind of certitude, I can find comfort in the uneasy place of wondering "why". Jesus puts a floor under me in the free-fall of frustration. That assures me joy and peace in the midst of chaos rather than trying to depend on the elimination of chaos. What a huge blessing to lay hold of right here and now! It's yours for the taking! Why don't you join me in the comfort of this blessed assurance?

My life is but a weaving Between my Lord and me, I cannot choose the colors He worketh steadily. Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow, And I in foolish pride Forget He sees the upper And I, the underside. Not till the loom is silent And the shuttles cease to fly Shall God unroll the canvas And explain the reason why. The dark threads are as needful In the Weaver’s skillful hand As the threads of gold and silver In the pattern He has planned. — Grant Colfax Tuller

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