The Little Stuff

God does a lot of really nice things for me to make my life more enjoyable. For example, although I am a frequent Delta flyer and virtually never fly United (just because of schedules; nothing against United), on today’s flight from Oklahoma to Chicago and then on to New York, I was seated in First Class on both United planes. This kind of thing happens all the time. A lot of little gifts that make things more pleasant and remind me of God’s love for me on a daily basis.

Which is great because so many of the big things in my life really haven’t been going well for quite some time.

While noticing and appreciating God’s little gifts, I have, in the past, said to Him, essentially, “That’s great and thank you, God, but what about the big stuff? I mean, if you can take care of this small thing, how about fixing something that is an ongoing disaster in my life?” (I’ve been more than a little upset when saying this.)

Then God showed me the way He responded to Jesus’ heart-felt request for deliverance from a much greater travail than mine. In Luke 22:42-44 Jesus is praying so earnestly for deliverance from the trial that He was about to suffer (the crucifixion) that His sweat is like great drops of blood. God responds by sending an angel to strengthen Him (verse 43). Wow. If I had been in Jesus’ shoes I would have said something like, “Gee, thanks, but in case You didn’t notice, I could use a bit more that that.”

But as we’ve discussed previously (Pruning, Job, Heading into the Storm), God often has something much greater in mind which we cannot see. It’s not that He doesn’t care: He cares very much – so much, in fact, that He refuses to accede to our desperate, though myopic, pleas but does as much as He can to comfort us without destroying the greater good that He is working in us, through us and for us.

Now I try to see the little gifts for what they are: examples of my Father’s love, reminders that He loves me just as much in the big things that don’t seem to be going as well, and, always, as simply gifts for my pleasure.

Job

As an example of the post from yesterday (“Pruning”), we have Job. Job hadn’t done anything wrong – he was “blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil” (Job 1:1). And yet he suffered the loss of nearly all that was important to him:

- Job was exceedingly rich and, although there is no indication that he loved his wealth or misused it, he lost everything in one day.

- Job had ten children all of whom were killed on the same day that he was financially wiped out.

- Job couldn’t even say, “Well, at least I’ve got my health.” Soon after the loss of his children and his money, Job was afflicted with painful sores from head to toe.

- The one remaining member of his immediate family, his wife, turned on him, withdrawing her support and counseling him to renounce his integrity and turn away from God.

- His friends, in the guise of comforting him, cut out from under him any semblance of remaining support when they advised Job that his troubles were clearly due to his sinful nature.

All Job had left was his life, and that he despised.

And none of this just happened. God was behind every bit of it (see 1:8-12). Why? Did God hate Job? Of course not. God loved Job and knew that Job loved God. So God said to Job, “Come up higher.” The path up higher was extremely painful (as it almost always is) and could only be travelled because Job was righteous and wanted more of God.

In the end, Job grew in his relationship with God. And God, who never forgets that we are only flesh and blood, restored Job’s family and fortunes – and then some.

Death

Whenever someone dies, God is heartbroken. You’d think that after billions upon billions of deaths over thousands and thousands of years, He would have become somewhat numb to the whole idea, somewhat used to it. And besides, He’s God: it’s certainly no surprise. And yeah, He’s God, so He could stop all the dying if He wanted to, if it really bothered Him so much.

But it does bother Him. And it doesn’t get easier with time. Each new dew death is another tragedy that breaks the heart of God. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Man was made to live forever with Him.

And He could stop it. But that would be like repealing the law of gravity. That’s not the universe that God made. This universe is predictable: you step off a ladder, you fall. You turn away from God – the very creator and source of your life, you die. It’s so simple and yet so tragic.

God doesn’t change His mind or change the laws that define His perfect creation. But He can always add a new law.

The new law isn’t really a law but it acts like one. It’s a promise. It says that, if you step off that ladder, God Himself with fall to the ground so you don’t hurt yourself. The law of gravity – which requires that an object fall to the ground – is upheld – but not by you.

And the new promise doesn’t change the fact that, if you turn away from Him, death is the result. It’s just not your death anymore. It’s His.

The Matrix

Hopefully, you’ve seen The Matrix, arguably the best film of 1999. (Please don’t see the two sequels; they were raunchy and horrible movies to boot.) There was much in that movie that spoke of God’s Kingdom. (No, it wasn’t a Christian movie but, since God created this world of ours, it’s decidedly difficult for anyone to avoid revealing Him.) There were some really cool parts where the “operator” - a person who could see the whole of reality at once – would speak to Neo or Trinity or one of the others who had descended into the cares and trials of the everyday world of the Matrix. The operator would tell them when and where exactly to move to accomplish some task. They would wait, wait, and then, Now! Move to your right! By listening to the operator who could see the big picture, Neo and Trinity would avoid problems they couldn’t see but which were lurking right around the corner.

A couple of months ago I had the same experience. I had gone to the local Subway and for the second time in a row had been served by a very nice girl in her twenties. As I usually do when out in public, I had chatted with her briefly as she took my order and made my sandwich. Through an insight that God gave me, I was aware that, while she was clearly gifted by God in a number of ways, she had already experienced too much hurt and confusion in her young life. On this, my second trip, as I ate my sandwich, God gave me a word of encouragement for this girl. I took out an index card that I happened to have and wrote what God had told me. It was only a couple of sentences but I sensed it was what this girl needed to hear.

But how to get it to her? The sandwich shop was crowded, she was busy and I didn’t want to just leave it on the counter without a word of explanation and an assurance that she had gotten it. The line had at least six people on it and there was only one other employee behind the counter. To me, it looked hopeless. Since God had definitely given me this to give to her, I figured I was going to just have to give it to her and hope for the best.

But God said to wait. Wait. Keep waiting. OK, now!

I got up, turned around and somehow, miraculously, there she was at the cash register looking up, not doing anything for a moment, no one near her or seeking her attention. It was as if the crowd had parted just for this moment. I walked over, handed her the card and told her I thought she could use this when things seemed down. Her face lit up, she thanked me and I took my leave.

It was the most incredible experience. The God of the Universe, the God who sees everything, had not only known the exact time that I would be able to make the drop, He also told me.

I fully expect that this girl – I don’t even know her name and have not seen her since – was incredibly blessed by what God wanted to say to her. I know I was incredibly blessed to be part of His work that day. Very, very cool.

Heading into the Storm

There’s a passage in Luke 8:22-25 in which Jesus suggests to His disciples that they all travel by boat to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. They all get in the boat and set out and Jesus promptly lies down and takes a nap. Next thing you know, a massive storm appears out of nowhere and threatens to capsize the boat. The disciples have good reason to believe that this might be the end. Of course, it’s not. They wake Jesus, He rebukes the wind and the waves and then rebukes the disciples for their lack of faith.

Didn’t Jesus know the storm was coming?? Then why did He tell His disciples to get in the boat? And having knowingly placed them in life-threatening danger, why did He then check out? Did He not care?

Does He not care about me? About you?

You bet He does. The disciples were never in any real danger. Their faith was not being tested, it was being increased. Jesus was teaching and growing His disciples in one of the most – and sometimes only – effective way: through a storm.

Jesus knew the storm was coming. In fact, He planned it that way. He loved His disciples way too much to take them by any other route or on any other day.

He loves us just as much.

Against you, and you alone, have I sinned…

When someone does me wrong I am, of course, angry with her. While my first thought is often how to get back at her or, at the very least, how to force her to stop, I am a mature enough Christian that I quickly squash that thought and turn to God, asking Him to right the wrong, correct the injustice, fight my battle. Scriptures come to mind – such as “The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still” (Exodus 14:14) and “The Lord your God, who is going before you, will fight for you (Deut. 1:30).

And once in a great while I’m even mature enough to pray for that person. (And not pray that God would open her eyes to see the Truth and know she has done me wrong – but pray the best blessing on her.)

But the Bible teaches that, when we sin, we sin against God and against Him alone (Psalm 51:4).

So wait: when someone has done me wrong, then they have hurt God. If I’m hurting, He’s hurting more. I should be comforting God, not looking for Him to vanquish my enemies – often his children – with the sword of Almighty fury.

He’s heartbroken. Why do I want to make it worse?