Life Gives No Guarantees ...

No one needs to tell us that this world is broken. We can look around and see it. We know it. We feel the sharp jagged edges of the brokenness all around us. None of us get through living in the midst of the splintered fragments without experiencing pain at some point in time. Because of that, we suffer.

Without thinking too hard, I can recall people who are:

• In a broken marriage, either through something as drastic as infidelity, or something as simple as self-centeredness. Whatever the case, there's a lot of grief, insecurity, confusion.
• Suffering from ailing, fragile bodies that just continue to not cooperate and break down even more quickly. How do I go through the day-to-day activities when my body wants to do its own thing?
• Walking the grievous road of infertility. What had been something that they thought would come so easily has been heartbreaking and tedious.
• Struggling with occupations. They're trying to make it work, but customers don't show up. Or equipment fails. Or there's always something that isn't right.
• Grieving because of a child that has made poor decision after poor decision, has walked away from the Lord and the family, and is living a dark and deceptive life.

To put it quite simply, our life isn't quite what we thought it would be. I don't know if we figured it would all be flowers and rainbows, that everything would come easily for us, that it would always be good, but sometimes we wind up in a dark place where we just want a guarantee that all will be like we want it to be. We want to be safe. We want to be comfortable. We want what we want.

There's no such guarantee. For this life anyway.

I'm still reading in Job. He's continuing to suffer (more than 32 chapters of suffering!!). Why? Haven't I done things right, Lord? Haven't I loved you and obeyed you? Haven't I done what You've asked of me? Why won't you fix my marriage/heal me/give me a baby/provide in my job/bring my prodigal home? And though we know God's right here with us, at times He seems strangely silent in the area where we are begging Him the most to work.

This is where the crossroads are, friend. This is where we have the decision to make. We can throw up our hands and figure God's not worth the trouble. After all, we've done our part, right? He's failed us. We can get angry. We can be defeated. We can give up. We can demand that He give us answers and explain Himself immediately.

And we'd be wrong. So very, very wrong. 

There are a few things we need to understand.

1. God is God, and we are not. Read Job, and you'll get an idea. We know He created the earth, but how? Can we even explain how it keeps working? He is great and mighty...and for us to even pretend for one moment why He does or doesn't do things is the epitome of arrogance and pride. And demanding Him to explain Himself when I don't like something He's doing is to pull Him down to my level.
2. Remember His goodness and His promises. What has He done for us? The cross. The resurrection. He came for us, to rescue us, to redeem us. Is there anything any better than that? Seriously?
3. Let go of what I'm holding on to more than Him. Anything else + Jesus = idol. Even things that are good gifts from Him can become idols that fill us with emptiness. Anything other than Him that we look to for us to be fulfilled is not enough. He's the only Enough that there is.
4. Our only guarantee in this life is Him. Fairness, happiness, a happily-ever-marriage, children, good health, jobs -- all are gifts that we long for. But God knows the gift that we need the most is Him. 

So, what do we do in this life? How do we live knowing that what we want so desperately is not guaranteed?

We keep our eyes on Him. We continue to get to know Him more and more. The more we know Him, the more we see His goodness, His trustworthiness. The more we know Him, the less we feel we have a right to have all the answers, to have control, to have that one other thing that we think we so desperately need. Maybe, just maybe, this area of our greatest pain is the area where He's showing us even more of Himself. He is who we need. He is our enough. He is better than our guarantee.

And for those of us that are His, we have this guarantee/promise in Him -- that someday, all that is broken will be restored. There's no guarantee of this in our life on earth, although sometimes God chooses to bless us in that way. He did with Job! But, even if He doesn't fix it all here in this lifetime, He will in our eternity. What is empty becomes filled. What is broken becomes whole. What is estranged becomes reconciled. What is barren becomes fertile. What is weak becomes strong. Why? Because it's Who He is.

Know it. Hold on to it. It will happen.

"Behold, I am making all things new." (Revelation 21:5)

Who Do You Think I Am?

I've just begun reading in Job for my morning quiet time. A part of me wants to yell, "Run, Job! You have NO idea what's coming!!" Good ole' righteous, upstanding Job. Good ole' Job with 7 sons and 3 daughters. Good ole' Job with thousands of sheep, camels, donkeys and oxen. Good ole' Job. He did everything just like he was supposed to ... and still he lost it all. Every single bit of it, plus some.

This is the part of the story where many of us would say, "I did my part, God. Where in the heck were You?"

Job suffered tremendously. He lost all 10 of his children, all of his wealth, and many of his servants and belongings in one day. A short time later, his hurting and grieving wife turned on him, and he lost his health and was on the brink of death. Good ole' righteous, upstanding Job. Good ole' Job who had done everything just like he was supposed to.

God allowed for it all to be taken away.

And what does Job say? My rough summary of the many chapters of Job's discourse: My eye has seen this. My ear has understood it. I did what I was supposed to do. I'm not being punished because I haven't done anything wrong. But sovereign God has done this, and I demand to know why.

The amazing part is that Job holds on to the sovereignty of God like a lifeline.

Have you ever been water skiing and fallen off the skis without letting go of the rope? I'm sure you're a better athlete and smarter person than I am. You can probably answer that question with a resounding no. But you're not me. Let me tell you -- when you're being pulled on the water face down by a speed boat, you eat lots and lots of water. Lots of it. It's really not very fun and will cause you to not want to water ski again. Ever.

That's what's happening to Job here. He's lost his skis. He's fallen flat on his face and is being pulled through the chopping waves of the waters. Drowning. Being out of control. He doesn't get it. He doesn't like it. He doesn't understand. Through it all, however, Job doesn't let go of his lifeline. He can't, because it's all he's got left.

But none of this makes sense. Job stands before God and demands to know what's going on. Where in the heck were You? Why didn't You do Your part? I'm hurting here, and You're not doing anything! I want to know why.

And instead of God thundering back at Job, "Who do you think you are?", He proceeds to show Job all of creation, all that He's done. "Where were you when I did all this, Job?" All wisdom, all might, all strength, all understanding -- all His. Job will never truly understand God and His workings.

Neither will I.

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who sets the limits for the sea? Look at the stars. Did you place them in those exact positions? Do you cause the rain to fall on the grass that grows? Do you feed the ravens and make sure they have food? These are all mysteries to you, Job. You haven't done these things in the past. You won't do them in the future. You can't do any of it. But I can, God says.

In other words, there are millions of things going on in this world. Literally millions. Job didn't understand them, didn't know how they all worked. And neither do I. But God does. And, it's presumptuous for me to think I can tell God just exactly how He needs to be working.

What strikes me is the tenderness in all of this. It's as if God is whispering "Who do you think I am? Open your eyes. Really see Me."

I think that's the same thing He whispers to me every evening as He paints the sky in vivid oranges, pinks, and purples of the sunsets. It's the same thing He whispers to me as the slender stems of flowers push out from the ground, eager to bloom. It's the same thing He whispers to me when someone grievously wounds my heart and leaves me broken and bleeding by the wayside. It's the same thing He whispers to me when up seems down, inside seems outside, and right ways seems side ways. It's the same thing He whispers to me as I open my Bible every morning, run my hands over the well-worn, marked up pages, and seek Him there.

Who do you think I am?

There have been times of deep grief and no understanding. There have been (and probably will be) times of wanting God to explain and give me answers. Ultimately, it all comes down to this: God is God, and I am not. He is good. He is faithful, and I can trust Him even when I don't have responses or explanations.

May my words be like Job's: "My ears had heard of You, but now my eyes see You." I see You, Holy God. I see Your sovereignty, Your goodness. I don't need to understand. I don't need to approve. I just need to see You.

What Now?

I've been a mom for 29 years. At that time in my life, I KNEW that was what I was supposed to do. Being a mom was my calling, my ministry, my life. The experiences of labor and delivery ... breastfeeding and diapers ... first tooth and first steps ... potty training ... play dates and kindergarten ... athletics ... driving cars ... dating ... missed curfews ... rebellion ... high school graduation -- all seem to be highlighted in my mind with my four children. I was a mom. This was just what I do. It was my life. And it was a life that I loved and cherished, that I enjoyed. Seriously, how can someone fall desperately in love with all four of her children?! But, I did.

Being a mom changed my life in so many ways. I truly learned to put someone before myself. I learned that being patient was a day-to-day lesson that I needed to constantly relearn. Other lessons I learned:
* Crayon marking on flat-paint walls don't come off without taking off paint.
* Speaking disrespectfully to your children produces children that speak disrespectfully to you.
* Children watch constantly. As a mom, I need to set the example in my home.
* Hide the vaseline from the kids or it will be on doorknobs, in hair, and on walls.
But above all, God taught me how to parent through His Word and His example, and I saw that even the best parents made mistakes and had imperfect children.

In 2010, my kids have all either married, graduated from college, or moved away from home. Now what?! For the first time in my life, I feel a little unsure. My identity was so wrapped up in my children. I'm a mom, for Pete's sake!! I never really looked ahead to when my job would basically be over. No longer am I in the "game" with my kids, but I'm on the sidelines as an observer. Hmmmm. It's not really what I had anticipated. And to be honest, it's definitely not what I would choose. I miss the days of baseball in the living room with imaginary bases ... of popping Barbie's head back on and being the hero ... of kissing away boo-boos ... of rocking sleeping babies.

This has been one of those topics that God and I discuss often as my children and I continue to grow older. Well, actually, it's more like my whining and crying until God gets my attention, and then the discussing can begin. God basically just listens to me, and occasionally He'll remind me of something. Some of the things that God has shared with me?

1) He's told me that being a mom was what I "did", not who I am. Instead, my identity is to be found in Him.
2) My job as a "coach" in my children's lives is basically over. I AM an observer at this point (unless they ask me for some guidance and advice, and how I love it when they do!). At this point, God is the coach, and I am on the sidelines. My job requirement at this point is to pray, pray, pray!! That's one job that will never quit.
3) My children were never mine in the first place. God gave them to me -- they were on "loan". My job was to teach them, train them, love them, and prepare them to enter the world without me. They need to stand on their own -- without me -- and lean on Christ. If they're doing that, then my job was one that was well done.
4) I have my wonderful husband. After all of these years of babies, toddlers, and teens, he still loves me and continues to enjoy being with me. I find that I love him more and more as the years go by. My "mom hat" might be on the shelf, but my "wife hat" still fits!

Even though I still sometimes question, "Now what?!", I know that God continues to have a plan for my life. I have to remember that I'm not just a wife ... or a mom ... those are both things that I DO, not WHO I AM. I'm Christ's and He's given me the privilege of ministering as a wife and a mother. Once again, it's just another day of Finding Me In Him.