As a kid I would read all these Bible stories and think of how silly the characters were for not believing in Jesus. Not believing He would provide a son, provide protection from the lion’s mouth, provide deliverance for His people from the enemy, provide food and water, raise the dead to life or even provide safety from the scorching fire. I would think, ‘Don’t they know that God is awesome and will save them?’ ‘Why can’t they remember that He fed them yesterday?’ I would almost laugh at the thought that God wouldn’t protect His children.
How naive. How awesome I thought I was, ‘God will always protect me and save me from pain and suffering.’ I already knew the end of the stories I read. I knew there was going to be a son for Abraham; I knew the fate of the three men in the fire; I knew the land was going to be handed over to the Israelites on a silver platter. I read through those stories in one sitting. How many years did they not know? How long did they have to have faith? How long did they pray for salvation from their enemies? Much longer than the 10 minutes it takes to read their story.
Those three men were about to be thrown into a furnace. A furnace so hot, the men who had to throw them into it, died. And so they said,
‘If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”’ (Dan 3:17-18)
Last night as I prayed, I acknowledged that with one touch of His garment, mom can be restored to full health. With one word, she can have years added onto her life. She can see her babies graduate from high school and college. With a simple command, she can see weddings, meet her grand-babies and be a part of our lives like she should be able to.
Then this verse came to mind. I tried to push it out. I can’t think like that. He has to heal her. It’s the only option. But there it was, staring me in the face and haunting my mind. What happens if He doesn’t? Who is Lord then? Is the Lord still holy? Is He still might to save? Who is my Rock if not the Lord?
So I lay there, praying to the Only One who has control over this. The One who hold my mother in the palm of His hand. I might not believe it in my head, but my heart knows, Jesus is still Lord. He is still mighty, holy and worthy. And even if He doesn’t bring restoration to my sweet momma’s body, He is still worthy to be praised. And while I have moments of rage, or days of confusion filled with grief and doubt, I know the Lord cares for His children and I will daily pray for healing and restoration.