Some fools turned against God and suffered for the evil they did. They refused to eat anything, so they almost died. In their misery they cried out to the Lord, and He saved them from their troubles. God gave the command and healed them so they were saved from dying. Let them give thanks to the Lord for His love and for the miracles He does for people. Let them offer sacrifices to thank Him. With joy they should tell what He has done. (Verses 17-22)
Who among you fears the Lord and obeys His servant? That person may walk in the dark and have no light. Then let him trust in the Lord and depend upon his God. But instead, some of you want to light your own fires and make your own light. So, go, walk in the light of your own fires, and trust your own light to guide you. But this is what you will receive from Me: You will like down in a place of pain. Isaiah 50 (italics, mine)
Is God cruel or loving to let our circumstances take us to a place of misery where we finally call out to Him? I know many atheists who would condemn the idea of a God who can look on miserable mankind and manipulate circumstances to His advantage. Who might find the motives of this kind of God in question. And, perhaps, without fully understanding the character of a loving God, it looks that way. The upshot, however, of all the scenarios into which the psalmist puts hurting people is that a benevolent, prescient Father allows our misery in order to save us from it, not to gloat in it. God doesn't want us to be destroyed.
It goes black out here for all of us. The way unclear, the long path ahead dark and daunting. No one is exempt from the confusion of this age. Cancer, job loss, abandonment--the lights go out for a bit. What do we do? To sit still in a dark place is freaky. I know my first lake dive when Bill and I were learning to SCUBA was nerve wracking because of the dense diaper-drenched bottom of Lake Perris in Moreno Valley, California. Bill, it turns out, was having trouble on the surface with his gear. I was told when plunging to the depths by myself that he and the instructor would be right down. But they weren't. It seemed like hours that I crouched on the bottom breathing through a tube and not being able to see my hand in front of my face. Scared half out of my wits by a large fish that swam right up to my dive mask. My heart pounded and it took all my gumption to stay down there. Alone. Waiting for some action. I started praying then. The Lord's Prayer, to be exact. I wanted the comfort of Scripture. The Word speaking beside me. Life has been, on and off, for me a trip to the bottom of a dark, dirty lake. Sometimes I put myself there. Sometimes it was the current of living that nearly drowned me. But, all the same, I was in the dark.
It can make us run. Darkness. Suffocating and unsure, we grasp for something that makes us feel less afraid. A little light. Alcohol. Crack. Adultery. Power. Money. "Come on, baby, light my fire!" Make it less dark in here. Listen to Frank sing: "For what is man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught to say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels. The record shows, I took the blows, and did it my way." If God's asleep, I guess I'll have to get myself out of this mess! And we go John Wayne on our circumstances, bullying life and blaming God. For a while it might just work. But if all you end up with is yourself, I'd argue with Frank. You got squat. Swallowed by your own perspective, cornered by your own ignorance, kicked in the gut by stupid decisions--yeah, you took the blows. And fell into a bed of pain. Because we don't possess enough light to get us very far. Our AA batteries give out. For our omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient God, watching us strike out on our own would be like our watching a two-year-old running away from home with only the flame from a birthday candle to get her wherever she's going. It's ridiculous. And the more quickly we become miserable in our own pursuits, the sooner our light burns out, the more quickly we crawl back to the Light. And that is smart. Continuing the journey with a burned out birthday candle isn't.
Granted, life is often dark and painful anyway. God understands sometimes we feel like running away. Even Jesus, in the depths of the garden on the ebony night before His death, prayed against the coming circumstances. But He didn't run. He stayed and waited. And it got worse before it got better. But, man, did it get better! Jesus cried out in His misery and the Father heard and saved Him and everyone else who believes! The plan in the dark was for light forever more. Never wasted. Letting our hearts pound against our chests while we try to sit calmly to see what He will do. There is nothing but a small candle to guide us in our running away. Our God wants to rush in with star-shine before we find ourselves on a bed of pain, agonizing over wrong choices and smelling the acrid odor of a burned-out flame.
Ever loving us...ever at the ready to come even into our sick room and heal us of our contagious sinfulness, our Father waits for the invitation to visit us. To lay His hands upon our fevered brow and renew our vigor. To walk us out of our addictions, to change our minds with His Word, to caress our aching souls and, sometimes, to excise our deadly fears. The Great Physician. Come to heal the rebellious patient who was nearly burned to death by her own puny flashlight. The miracle of His love. That meets us in our misery. And lights our way again.
Who among you fears the Lord and obeys His servant? That person may walk in the dark and have no light. Then let him trust in the Lord and depend upon his God. But instead, some of you want to light your own fires and make your own light. So, go, walk in the light of your own fires, and trust your own light to guide you. But this is what you will receive from Me: You will like down in a place of pain. Isaiah 50 (italics, mine)
Is God cruel or loving to let our circumstances take us to a place of misery where we finally call out to Him? I know many atheists who would condemn the idea of a God who can look on miserable mankind and manipulate circumstances to His advantage. Who might find the motives of this kind of God in question. And, perhaps, without fully understanding the character of a loving God, it looks that way. The upshot, however, of all the scenarios into which the psalmist puts hurting people is that a benevolent, prescient Father allows our misery in order to save us from it, not to gloat in it. God doesn't want us to be destroyed.
It goes black out here for all of us. The way unclear, the long path ahead dark and daunting. No one is exempt from the confusion of this age. Cancer, job loss, abandonment--the lights go out for a bit. What do we do? To sit still in a dark place is freaky. I know my first lake dive when Bill and I were learning to SCUBA was nerve wracking because of the dense diaper-drenched bottom of Lake Perris in Moreno Valley, California. Bill, it turns out, was having trouble on the surface with his gear. I was told when plunging to the depths by myself that he and the instructor would be right down. But they weren't. It seemed like hours that I crouched on the bottom breathing through a tube and not being able to see my hand in front of my face. Scared half out of my wits by a large fish that swam right up to my dive mask. My heart pounded and it took all my gumption to stay down there. Alone. Waiting for some action. I started praying then. The Lord's Prayer, to be exact. I wanted the comfort of Scripture. The Word speaking beside me. Life has been, on and off, for me a trip to the bottom of a dark, dirty lake. Sometimes I put myself there. Sometimes it was the current of living that nearly drowned me. But, all the same, I was in the dark.
It can make us run. Darkness. Suffocating and unsure, we grasp for something that makes us feel less afraid. A little light. Alcohol. Crack. Adultery. Power. Money. "Come on, baby, light my fire!" Make it less dark in here. Listen to Frank sing: "For what is man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught to say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels. The record shows, I took the blows, and did it my way." If God's asleep, I guess I'll have to get myself out of this mess! And we go John Wayne on our circumstances, bullying life and blaming God. For a while it might just work. But if all you end up with is yourself, I'd argue with Frank. You got squat. Swallowed by your own perspective, cornered by your own ignorance, kicked in the gut by stupid decisions--yeah, you took the blows. And fell into a bed of pain. Because we don't possess enough light to get us very far. Our AA batteries give out. For our omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient God, watching us strike out on our own would be like our watching a two-year-old running away from home with only the flame from a birthday candle to get her wherever she's going. It's ridiculous. And the more quickly we become miserable in our own pursuits, the sooner our light burns out, the more quickly we crawl back to the Light. And that is smart. Continuing the journey with a burned out birthday candle isn't.
Granted, life is often dark and painful anyway. God understands sometimes we feel like running away. Even Jesus, in the depths of the garden on the ebony night before His death, prayed against the coming circumstances. But He didn't run. He stayed and waited. And it got worse before it got better. But, man, did it get better! Jesus cried out in His misery and the Father heard and saved Him and everyone else who believes! The plan in the dark was for light forever more. Never wasted. Letting our hearts pound against our chests while we try to sit calmly to see what He will do. There is nothing but a small candle to guide us in our running away. Our God wants to rush in with star-shine before we find ourselves on a bed of pain, agonizing over wrong choices and smelling the acrid odor of a burned-out flame.
Ever loving us...ever at the ready to come even into our sick room and heal us of our contagious sinfulness, our Father waits for the invitation to visit us. To lay His hands upon our fevered brow and renew our vigor. To walk us out of our addictions, to change our minds with His Word, to caress our aching souls and, sometimes, to excise our deadly fears. The Great Physician. Come to heal the rebellious patient who was nearly burned to death by her own puny flashlight. The miracle of His love. That meets us in our misery. And lights our way again.
No comments:
Post a Comment