My fourth grade teacher called me to her desk. “I see you’ve always made A’s on your report cards–since you started in first grade. Well, I don’t believe a student should always make A’s so that’s why I’m giving you a B in handwriting.” I was devastated. My big seventh grade disappointment came on cheerleader tryout day. I didn’t make it. I ran home and threw myself on the couch and cried all weekend. In high school, my parents insisted that I break up with the love of my sixteen-year-old life. I was crushed and spent another weekend on the couch.
Disappointments grew in significance and magnitude as I matured–my parents’ marriage break-up, my mother’s early death, my daughter’s uncontrolled seizures… difficulties that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard I tried to do things right and regardless of how much I prayed. Fortunately, somewhere along the way I learned that prayer wasn’t about twisting God’s arm to do my will, to fulfill my wishes. I figured out that I was a part of God’s plan, not the reverse.
When Mom died, God led me to the passage about Lazarus dying, and reminded me that He did, indeed, care. He even wept with me. And I later discovered that belief in God meant that I could trust Him to be enough, even if the difficulties never stopped, even if I faced a lifetime of battling my daughter’s seizures.
But when pain hits, I still struggle with the seeming indifference of God–that He could stand by and appear to do nothing when life hurts.
That’s when He reminds me that He’s not “doing nothing.” He’s always interceding for me, and He’s always with me. Part of the mystery of life is the behind-the-scenes activity of God–the things He does on our behalf that we may not understand until we stand in His presence. But because I know His character of love and goodness, I can trust that He’s weaving His goodness into my life, even if I don’t see it in my moments of pain.
(John 11)
