Better for the PAIN

I would declare it to the world, if I could. But mostly I declare it and sing it over myself. As a reminder. As wise words should be declared.

I do know that God, being God, in His infinite wisdom and ability can protect me from all harm and illness and trouble, but I also know that God, being God, does not always protect. In His divine ways, He allows room for the entrance of disaster. And this is not cruelty as some have come to understand it. No, this is something higher. If the sting of the bee brings forth that which could never have come without it, then wouldn’t the crueler thing be to withhold it? Oh, that I could know the mind and heart of God in its fullness, I would never be left wondering of His kindness and care! Oh to think one day, my faith will be made sight. All these musings will be in the distant past, not mocking me from where they stand, but rather, applauding me for caring at all to know God more. Always more, that is my soul desire. To know more of Him, to taste more from Him and to walk closer in love with Him. 

My delicate frame, though it would deny its delicacy, (in fact, it would boast of its ability, wrongly), is but a small and tiny thing in the eyes of God. It is after all, He who spoke it all into being in the start of the world. And yet, I do disagree with Him at times, and then later look back and agree whole heartedly. If only my wisdom would grow in such a way that I could stand in full voice at the time of testing and stings, and know that this too, Yes, even this, will work together to make me more like Him and to bring forth goodness in my life, and in my heart. As I age, I do grow in wisdom, and yet find myself utterly lacking to the degree that I do so desire to reach. Oh dear heart! Why do you falter so? How do you so easily forget Him who has never treated you unwell? His love for me, in all ways, even with the biting, has always felt like freedom and patience and goodness.

I do know it to be. 

To be protected, in human terms, is but of small thinking. In fact, we mean not to focus on it at all, but rather, seek to be liberated from its shackles. It is not the goal; safety, wholeness, lack of disaster, is it? No, the goal and the means to reach such a lofty goal is Christ himself. 

Christ to start the journey, Christ to choose and Chirst to carry it on to a complete place. Christ to carry me. 

I am comforted to know that even the enemy himself, as he prances to and fro as a lion, coming to devour that which he is able to, even he is on a leash. He is only, ever, permitted to bite and to scratch when allotted. Isn’t this the real gift of all? To know that God is in and above all of it? If the bite is allowed, then it comes from a place of love and it can and will be used for good, it will be turned around; beauty from ashes will come. This is glorious, so very pure! God is not far from those of us who fear. In fact, He is in it with us. From the start to the last, we are not to abide this dark world apart from He who knows its darkness in full. No, rather the opposite is most true, He is here now, in my musing, in my doubt, in my limited mind, troubled as it may be, and He is aware of all of it, and still, loves me. Fully. Truly. 

Is it enough for me to walk this road, knowing ahead of time that bites and stings and all manner of troubles await, if in fact He is with me on it? Is that enough? Is it enough then and it is enough now? No promises of perfect peace now, not bodily, or in relationships, or in life, but the promise is every bit as sweet, is it not? And as pure as that, in the truth that He promises never to abandon. Never to be gone away. But to be with us, on the road, in the swamps and in darkest valleys of shadowy death, even there He will be with me, with you. Is this what the promise of God feels like to hold? To know that in and through it all, I am not in it alone. Yes, this indeed is the gift of all gifts, companionship and help always. I must simply ask and I will be given. Not always a shortcut through, but always, always, a helping hand and peace as I go. 

Jesus, He who sticks closer than a brother. He who loves when I have not loved in return. This is my travel guide and my travel companion. I am better for the stings and the trouble, aren’t I? Aren’t I better than I was before? Yes, indeed better and more whole than without the struggle. Oh, He is wise above all. I am honored to be His, and am honored to know Him better now, than minutes ago.