When these are the headlines you wake up to, your heart cannot help but hurt. Sweet friends, if we don’t believe that there is purpose in our pain, our sentiment would mimic the conclusion of the Daily News.
Throughout our entire history, we are a people plagued with the exact same indictment, “God isn’t fixing this!”
My heart, your heart, constantly infiltrated with the struggle to believe. In our own stories of broken places and battle scarred wounds, we cry out;
“God isn’t fixing this marriage.
God isn’t fixing this infertility.
God isn’t fixing this betrayal.
God isn’t fixing this relationship.
God isn’t fixing this injustice.
God isn’t fixing these lies.
God isn’t fixing this abuse.
God isn’t fixing this disease.
God isn’t fixing the weight of this financial burden.
God isn’t fixing this road littered with destruction.
God isn’t fixing this church.
God isn’t fixing that child, that spouse, that parent, that friend.
God isn’t fixing this community.
God isn’t fixing this school.
God isn’t fixing this putrid heart.
God isn’t fixing this work place.
God isn’t fixing this ministry.
God isn’t fixing this home.
God isn’t fixing this family.
God isn’t fixing this story.”
We aren’t alone. Throughout history, many went before us thinking similar thoughts.
“We are slaves whom are held hostage in a foreign land. God isn’t fixing this.”
“Surely, the Red Sea will end our Exodus, and we will end up in captivity again. God isn’t fixing this.”
“How are we ever going to make it without the delicious food the Egyptians served? God isn’t fixing this.”
The spies who went to survey the promised land, “There are giants every where. God isn’t fixing this.”
Joshua’s people who marched around Jericho, “How will we ever conquer this fortified city? God isn’t fixing this.”
And endless more.
You know what the problem is, dear fellow friend in need of some fixing? US. You and I. Believing our God is a genie in a bottle who must be rubbed the right way with eloquent prayers, liturgy and religion. You and I forgetting, since the beginning of time, His only goal has been to fix our hearts, not our world. His goal is so much more profound, so much more life-changing, life-giving than just the waving of a wand of healing over an ill mother with Alzheimer’s.
He wants our hearts. Not our lukewarm gratitude for momentary relief from our pain.
He wants our hearts.
Not our passive platitudes on Sundays.
Not our eeny-meeny-miny-moes on Monday.
Not our ten percent tithe on Tuesday.
Not our waffling works on Wednesday.
Not our thoughtless thanksgiving on Thursday.
Not our fake forgiveness on Friday.
Not our slimy sanctification scams on Saturday.
He wants our blooming hearts. And He won’t stop until He has it.
And you want to know something else? Lean is close so I can cup your chin.
HE HAS ALREADY FIXED IT!
In ways we never expected.
In wonders we cannot comprehend.
In words that live forever.
In works that set us forever free.
In bearing all the wrath and the wrong upon His shoulders.
HE FIXED IT!
He fixed it from the beginning of time, because He could not be without us.
He fixed it by slipping on humanity and leaving His throne so we would never walk alone.
He fixed it by living the life we could never live and crediting it to our account.
He fixed it by loving the least of these, the worst of these, the poorest of these.
He fixed it by feeding us everlasting life, and washing us with the blood of the lamb.
He fixed it by setting us forever free, by His death on an old, rugged tree.
Our eyes cannot often see what He is doing. Our eyes are often deceived. But we do not hope in vain. We do not struggle in vain. Our hearts do not bleed in vain. He is our Emmanuel. God WITH US. Not aloof pacing the floors of heaven; angry, disappointed and out of touch. He is WITH US, in this very moment. In this very muck. Refining our hearts to be more like His. The promise of this life was never ease and glamour. The promise was GOD WITH US. Never alone.
It’s often easier for the nay-sayers to stand on the outside, pointing fingers and blaming a God they know nothing of, than it is to call on His name and sit in the mess with Him. It hurts too bad to struggle with Him, to ask Him the hard questions. Such love is too risky for our finite minds. Such security requires too much patience for our instant gratification souls.
Oh readers, He is worth it. Every pain, every struggle, every tear. He is faithful, kind, tender and true.
IT IS FINISHED, loves.
IT IS FIXED!
IT IS FIXED!
IT IS FIXED!
He is everything to me! The fixer of all wrongs. He is making it all new. Just you wait!