I laughed, but I wanted to punch someone. I wanted to say to God’s messenger, “You have a pretty sick sense of humour. It has been too long. It’s over. You can’t just keep promising things when we both know it is never going to happen. Stop lying to me.”
I am wondering: do the possessions we own turn us into bloated Christians? I am slim in body, but obese in possessions – and I wonder what subtle effect this has on my spiritual life. Every time I look at a catalogue for present ideas for other people (which naturally turns into a list of things you might like for yourself), I feel like I am stuffing after-dinner mints into my face after a very large meal.
For anyone lost in the middle of sadness and pain: this is for you. You know, somewhere in the recesses of your mind, that one day, there will be no mist, and even the brightness of the sun will be surplus to requirements because the beautiful, rainbow-glory of God will be shining, iridescent and glorious. You know that what you see now is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal
The loudest demands are not always the most important demands. We have to use our ‘sacred no’ in order to do what is best. Or, as my friend Tara says, “say no to things so you can find your ‘hell, yeah!’”
Why do I like the one type of beginning, but not the other? Why have I always loved ‘back to school’ but hate the new beginnings that relapses bring?
The answer is this: one feels progressive, the other regressive. One is macro, the other micro. One is linear, the other cyclical.
When we are overwhelmed by the contemplation of our own suffering, when the future looks black, we can know that we have a Saviour who experienced those same feelings. There is no shame in feeling that we just cannot cope. Some things are too big to bear alone.
What do you believe about God and suffering?
I’m answering that exact question today, explaining my ‘theology of suffering’.
This is my four-minute video on the mystery of the incarnation, and how that influences our attitudes to our own bodies