All I can do is hold your hand, my brother, my sister. I will shout and scream with you. I will curse this day for you. I will bear with you, for the Glory, for the newness. Until we get home.
Tag Archives | character of God
We think we can buy healing. People of faith do it with earnest prayer; others of us do it with private doctors or alternative healers, fitness regimes and juicing. Of course, sometimes, for some people, it works, and their stories persuade us that it will work for all. Whether by prayer or our own efforts, we want to believe healing is within our control.
We knew that the refugee crisis was bad – the people drowning in the seas, the ‘jungle church’ at Calais, but sometimes it takes the death of one person, one beautiful child, to remind us of our common humanity, to turn the ‘Them’ into ‘Us’. Some images still have the power to change the world.
There are times when life is a whirlwind and we are whirling within it. Our days had been full of flurry and preparation and whirlwind and now we sat, waiting.
I believe that I have a muse, and that she lives in the shower.
I fear that what I have just written may put me firmly in the category of those who are utterly insane, or those who are arrogant enough to believe the world should be hanging on their every word. Or – more simply – ‘writer’, which is a combination of the two.
The Kingdom of God is frustrating, mysterious, slow, inefficient.
God is in dark, dark places. But not with an instant pick-me-up solution. Sometimes it seems He is doing nothing and that perhaps He isn’t there. The cries for help seem to bounce off the ceiling. Pain is painful, and no less so for believers.
But alongside the truth of suffering, we need to acknowledge the truth that God is good, and that He does good work in dark pits.
Unfortunately, far too many of us suffer because we think the questions mean we are not true believers. That if we had a real faith then even in the most tragic of situations we wouldn’t have any questions. That our faith would be unshakeable. Unbreakable. That’s the lie. I can’t help but wonder if the opposite is actually true. What if our questions actually reveal the strength of our faith rather than its weakness?