Was It because …

"As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. 'Rabbi,' his disciples asked him, 'Why was this man born blind? Was it because of his own sins or his parents' sins?'

'It was not because of his sins or his parents' sins,' Jesus answered. 'This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.'" John 9:1-3

 My Abba,

I can’t imagine the challenges of being born blind at the time this man lived. In addition to the obvious struggles directly created by his disability, he and his family were plagued by stigma and blame. In their culture, the common beliefs about suffering seemed to fuel accusations and conjecture as to whose sin caused this man’s disability. Insult added to injury.

I am so weary of suffering. Not just my suffering, but that of countless others. I find the plight of children being hurt by people they should be able to trust, especially tragic. My heart breaks for the persecuted church. I grieve as disease, famine, and injustice scour the planet.

I want your love to invade all this darkness and obliterate the pain. We are desperate for relief.

It doesn’t help me personally cope when people ask me questions like, "Do you really think you can glorify God, if he doesn’t heal you?" Then there is the cacophony of voices that have offered comments like, "If you just had more faith, God would remove your pain, heal your disease, fix your circumstances, order your world, and do away with the stubborn stains in your messy life." I know these clueless “comforters” sometimes mean well, but they leave my heart feeling trampled by their runaway, errant advice.

It’s not like I have the answers. But you know I have stopped asking the "Was it because?" question. I just know after decades of chewing on this topic, I will not be satisfied with the meager explanations we try to paste like tiny band aids on the wounds from which we hemorrhage. 

You allow suffering. A lot of it. And most of the time, I don't get it.  

But I will not forsake relationship with you, even, in the absence of answers. I am not willing to let the unexplained pain rob me of your glorious presence. I will not bite the hand that feeds me. Why would I distance myself from the only One who sustains and nourishes me?

This passage gives me fresh hope to pray for your power to be revealed to people in the midst of their suffering. Please show yourself in compelling ways. Draw them (and me) to the reality of your love forever. Let your power be seen in us.

I love you,

Mollie

My child,

I want you to see more clearly what I have for you. I want that sight I give you to bring me glory. I want my demonstration of power in your life to point to my perfection. I want others to see how glorious I am.

I know over the years as you have suffered, some people have questioned your faith and devotion to me.

I have not allowed your suffering because you are not doing it right. There is not some buried sin I am trying to uproot. You would not be a better display of my splendor, if you enjoyed perfect health, wealth, and all the cookies in the cookie jar.

I know most days you are tired and want to come home. There will be a time for that. You are time bound and the clock can seem savagely slow.

Today, I give you my strength and courage to press on. Though sometimes you feel shattered, my power and love are streaming across the jagged edges of your heart creating a kaleidoscope for my light. 

Although I am not in the habit of explaining all my reasons to you for allowing suffering, I promise to constantly redeem the pain of this world with my light and love. 

I love you,

Abba

photo: w.kertchot