"To proceed very far through the desert, you must be willing to meet existential suffering and work it through. In order to do this, the attitude toward pain has to change. This happens when we accept the fact that everything that happens to us has been designed for our spiritual growth.”
1I ask then: Did God reject his people? By no means! I am an Israelite myself, a descendant of Abraham, from the tribe of Benjamin. 2God did not reject his people, whom he foreknew. Don’t you know what Scripture says in the passage about Elijah—how he appealed to God against Israel: 3“Lord, they have killed your prophets and torn down your altars; I am the only one left, and they are trying to kill me”a ? 4And what was God’s answer to him? “I have reserved for myself seven thousand who have not bowed the knee to Baal.”b 5So too, at the present time there is a remnant chosen by grace. 6And if by grace, then it cannot be based on works; if it were, grace would no longer be grace.
JOURNAL
Yesterday I was angry. Taking that phone call from Drow and hearing the hurt, disappointment and anger in his voice felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath him, and honestly, from underneath us too. We have encouraged him through this journey, watched him work, sacrifice, wait and believe, and just when it seemed things were coming together, suddenly everything felt uncertain again. I don't understand it, and when things don't make sense, there is a part of me that wants to throw up my hands and ask, "What's the point?"
Yet I realize this is exactly what I constantly write about. Surrender. Living today. Releasing outcomes. Finding and experiencing God in the midst of heartache rather than requiring Him to remove it. Psalm 91 doesn't promise that God will keep us from trouble. He says, "I will be with him in trouble." Maybe that is the distinction I so easily forget. The promise isn't a life without heartache. The promise is God with us in the heartache.
That doesn't mean pretending yesterday didn't hurt. There is a time to grieve, and maybe part of surrender is allowing myself to grieve without immediately trying to turn the pain into some inspirational lesson. But Scripture also tells me to rejoice always. That's hard, so hard, but I think both can be true. I can grieve what happened while still rejoicing that God is here, And perhaps that is where grace becomes something far greater than a theological idea. Grace is the realization that none of this was mine to begin with. Drow's ability is grace. His opportunity is grace. His body is grace. The people who love him are grace. The journey itself is grace. Today is grace. I didn't create any of it, and ultimately I cannot control any of it.
Comparison becomes an enemy because it can improperly discourage me when someone else's journey looks easier or improperly encourage me because someone else's looks harder. Neither has anything to do with the life God has given me today. This is our story. This is Drow's story. And this is today's page. I don't have to understand it or even like it to receive it.
Maybe the prayer isn't, "God, explain this to me." Maybe it's simply, "God, let me see You here." Let me grieve when it's appropriate to grieve, rejoice always, stop looking sideways at everyone else's journey and fully embrace what You have given me today. Because the more I look toward heaven, the more of heaven I can bring into the world around me. Heartache and joy can occupy the same space. Disappointment doesn't eliminate hope, uncertainty doesn't mean God has disappeared, and even here, God is still writing the story.
2 CORINTHIANS 4:16
