Speaker and writer Jennifer Rothschild,
who's been blind since age 15, related recently about having put off listening
to a CD that contained a testimony from a woman who was afflicted with the same
blinding retinal disease as her. Finally, she did, and as the sister in Christ
began to tell of her affliction, she could relate completely with the pain,
frustration, and suffering that comes along with the disease. She could
identify too with the woman's telling of how she and her husband would go to
their knees in prayer, crying out to God for healing, for Rothschild and her
husband had done the same. Then came the part that she had been dreading, the
place where the woman told of how the Father had miraculously healed her,
restoring her sight completely.
Her testimony gave wonderful glory and praise to God, and
though Rothschild could rejoice for the lady, she was left with a deep feeling
of emptiness because she, unlike her sister, had never received a healing. She
was still blind. Rothschild commented, "I know His ways are perfect, but so
often, they seem perfect for someone else, and not me." We may know that
thought as well. He is markedly fair with someone else, but seemingly so unfair
with us, at least to our understanding.
Psalm 138:8 reads, "The Lord will work out His plans for my life." What do we do when His "plan" is so markedly different from ours? Our plan included healing, deliverance, provision, abundance. His doesn't appear to contain any of that. What do we do when His plan takes the way of pain, loss, heartache and need?
What do we do when we discover that His plan always, without exception, includes His cross, and His suffering? What do we do with all the "gaps" He seems to leave in our lives, all those places where He appears to be absent, seemingly uncaring? What do we do with what Rothschild calls "the missing pieces" of our lives, pieces that He could supply, but doesn't. T. Austin-Sparks once wrote, "Our testing will be such that we will not make it through apart from the divine intervention of heaven." What do we do when His intervention looks more like a collision, indeed a collision with Him and all the ideas we've had about Him?
Psalm 138:8 reads, "The Lord will work out His plans for my life." What do we do when His "plan" is so markedly different from ours? Our plan included healing, deliverance, provision, abundance. His doesn't appear to contain any of that. What do we do when His plan takes the way of pain, loss, heartache and need?
What do we do when we discover that His plan always, without exception, includes His cross, and His suffering? What do we do with all the "gaps" He seems to leave in our lives, all those places where He appears to be absent, seemingly uncaring? What do we do with what Rothschild calls "the missing pieces" of our lives, pieces that He could supply, but doesn't. T. Austin-Sparks once wrote, "Our testing will be such that we will not make it through apart from the divine intervention of heaven." What do we do when His intervention looks more like a collision, indeed a collision with Him and all the ideas we've had about Him?
What do we do when the missing pieces continue to go missing?
The truth is that there is nothing for us "to do," only for us "to be." That
place of being is to allow Him to fill those gaps, those missing pieces with
Himself, where we receive all of Him for all of our need. In that place we will
find something greater than the need, the pain, the healing. We will find Him,
all of Him. When we receive a whole God, one who is above and beyond all our
ideas of fairness and what is right, we will ourselves become whole. The
affliction may remain, but the gaps, the missing pieces don't. They're filled
with the wonder, beauty, and life of Himself. He may not do what we think is
fair, but if we truly will receive Him, all of Him, He will surely be shown to
do for and in us what is right.
Something I pray for myself and all those on my prayer list is that we would live life from a place of His rest. This can never be as long as we strive to find out what it is we must "do." It only comes from receiving Him into all those gaps in our lives, all of those places that are missing pieces. This is not being resigned to defeat, but instead being lifted up to the life of victory and overcoming. Had the Father removed Paul's thorn in the flesh as he asked, Paul would never have experienced the wonders of the third heaven, the wonders of His God. In that place he knew that the Father's ways were perfect, that though the thorn remained, he was whole, at rest, in the hands of a God who may not be safe, but who is most certainly good. May each of us live in those hands, and that heart as well.
Blessings,
Something I pray for myself and all those on my prayer list is that we would live life from a place of His rest. This can never be as long as we strive to find out what it is we must "do." It only comes from receiving Him into all those gaps in our lives, all of those places that are missing pieces. This is not being resigned to defeat, but instead being lifted up to the life of victory and overcoming. Had the Father removed Paul's thorn in the flesh as he asked, Paul would never have experienced the wonders of the third heaven, the wonders of His God. In that place he knew that the Father's ways were perfect, that though the thorn remained, he was whole, at rest, in the hands of a God who may not be safe, but who is most certainly good. May each of us live in those hands, and that heart as well.
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