A true friend

When bad stuff happens, the common question that seems to pop up for many people has something to do with why bad stuff happens to good people. “Why did that have to happen to them? They were so good to everyone.” There seems to be an understanding that somewhere good people have deposited enough “goodness” so as to avoid “badness,” as if every day each person made a deposit or withdrawal at the cosmic “goodness” bank. And so, the reasoning goes, when the account runs low, you get slapped with a banking fee, otherwise known as bad stuff.

The whole idea that it is wrong for bad stuff to happen to good people is rooted in our sense of fair play and justice. I understand it. I just don’t buy into it, mostly because life has never seemed fair to me. From my first memories, by my standards, life has never played fair. I grew up in an abusive home. How is that fair? I didn’t ask for it. I worked hard and excelled in school only to have a teaching position in a university slip away because, though qualified, I was the wrong gender and nationality for accreditation standards. How is that fair? Rachel and I experienced the devastation and destruction of Hurricane Katrina first hand. Umm. I don’t see how that was ever in my wildest dreams. All of these things and more have been part of my life. Never once have I wondered why. I have always assumed life is simply not fair, that it does not play by the rules. I can’t ever remember ever asking, “Why are these bad things happening?” Rather, I have asked a different question. My question has always been, “Where are you, God?”

In the midst of suffering, in the midst of brokenness, in the midst of sorrow, in the midst of all the badness that seems to fill this life, I have asked thousands of times, “Where are you, God?” Caught in the throes of life’s unfairness, I very often find myself feeling alone. Unsupported. Forsaken. Forgotten. I find myself searching for God’s face, and yet, God’s face seems hidden as do the faces of those whom I count as my friends. It seems that in these unfair throes that life brings, often all I can see is darkness. I wonder if God has forgotten that I am down here struggling away in a world that is not the way it is supposed to be. How else am I supposed to interpret this pain and sorrow? If God had not forgotten me then surely the pain would be less, more tolerable, more evenly distributed across life.

I am discovering that the longer I stare into the darkness the more the darkness swallows me. So, a few years ago, at the suggestion of a friend, I made an intentional effort to look not so fully at the darkness but to fix my attention on the small points of light punctuating the darkness. I made a choice to not ignore the darkness but to hold with the darkness the light, the laughter of my children, hot cups of coffee, dates with my wife, time spent with friends, sunrises and sunsets, jelly donuts, cherry pie, juicy steaks, solitary runs through nature and more. The more I held the points of light in tension with the darkness, the more I began to recognize that I was no longer asking “Where are you, God?” I was no longer asking for I knew, knew in an experiential way, knew that God was with me. As I held to the little points of light I began to realize that God was with me. He was always with me. As he was with me he was blessing and sustaining me, showering me with innumerable blessings, blessings coming in the forms of hot cups of coffee, sunrises and sunsets, jelly donuts, and solitary runs through nature. I began to discover that God had never left me, but rather I had left him, left him in my desire to escape this world, to escape the creation he meant to be enjoyed because of my own desire for ease and comfort. It is not that I have arrive in this journey. Certainly I have not. I have my moments that I still stare into the darkness and find myself overwhelmed. But when I find myself there, I turn and find that God is there with me in the darkness, sometimes finding him as quickly as it takes to make a hot cup of coffee.

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your family.

Pray Romans 8.38-39: God is with us, but the experience of difficulty can obscure this reality. As a family, consider reminding yourselves of God’s constant devotion my memorizing Romans 8.38-39 and then personalizing it in your prayers as a family. You might do this by incorporating these verses into your thanksgiving prayer before meals and by naming specific difficulties which are now present in your family’s life.

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Count your blessings:  God’s greatest desire is to be with us. He acts on this desire by choosing to be with us even when we do not desire to be with him. Jesus and his brother James indicated that it is the presence of the many good blessings in our lives that provide a ready demonstration of God’s constant presence and devotion to us (Matthew 5.43-48; James 1.16-17). This week, consider opening yourself to God’s presence by counting your blessings. You might take a few sheets of paper and see how many blessings you can count this week alone. Start slowly by seeking to write down at least 10 blessings a day. Don’t limit yourself to big items but include the myriad of good things which you enjoy and fill your life. After a few days you may find that you recognize more and more of these blessings. Write them each down and reflect on the many small and constant ways God demonstrates that he is with you.