Forgiving God

Forgiving God may well be the first step in trusting him.

Does God need my forgiveness? Absolutely not! That would imply that God has done something wrong. He is God–incapable of doing anything wrong.

Do I need to forgive God? Probably. We all experience disappointment in life, and sometimes we blame God for it. Of course the blame is not his, but he is generous and so full of grace that he allows the blame to rest on him. For a while, anyway.

At some point, however, I am blessed if I realize that it’s not God’s fault that I am disappointed. It is mine. I most likely decided that I knew better than God, and so I did what I wanted to do–what I thought was best–rather than what God says is best. That means those consequences I was so mad about were absolutely my fault, not God’s, and it’s really me that needs forgiveness.

If I can see that God was right and I was wrong…

If I realize that he is so full of grace to allow me to blame him for my stubborn decision to have it my way in spite of his warnings…

If I repent of ever thinking that God needed my forgiveness…

If I ask God to forgive me…

If I accept God’s forgiveness…

I just might learn to trust him more fully.

Interestingly, this process repeats itself throughout the life of any Christ-follower. It’s how our faith grows.

daniel-9

Surprised by Mystery

Several days ago I had the privilege of praying for healing for a woman with a kidney problem. She has been struggling with this for months, and at times it has been quite debilitating. As we began to pray, my prayer partner received a word of knowledge from the Lord that he–God–would heal that kidney. As we finished praying, the woman said that the pain was gone. Last night I received news that the woman had gone back to the doctor and had another ultrasound, which showed the kidney is completely healed.

I was surprised.

That probably sounds strange coming from someone who regularly prays for healing. It feels awkward to admit it! Until, that is, I recognize that the surprise I feel is not rooted in doubt, but in delight.

I do not have any idea why God heals some people and not others. It’s a mystery. I’ve certainly asked God about it, and I’ve read a lot on that subject. I’ve not found a definitive answer, and I don’t believe there is one to be found. (That is the definition of mystery, is it not?) The way I see it, to believe I should have an answer to everything I don’t understand is simply arrogant. Some say that I’m blessed to be at peace with the myteries of God, but I think it’s as simple as knowing about a particular woman in a garden long ago who was tempted by the notion that she could know the mind of God. She gave in to the temptation, and look where that got us!

Personally, I find a great deal of peace in knowing that someone who is bigger and smarter than me has everything under control–the good and the bad. God is not capricious. He is good and he does good. Always. The mysteries will someday be revealed and the very word “mystery” will become obsolete. I can wait.

I believe firmly in divine healing. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve even experienced it myself! Yet I am always surprised when God chooses to heal. Evidence of doubt? Not at all. It’s delightdancing-with-god in witnessing the mystery all over again. So I will continue praying for healing when the opportunities present themselves and joyfully embrace the surprise when I’m reminded of the mysteries of God!

Reflections From a Funeral

Funerals are important events. I’ve been to plenty of them over my lifetime, several during my childhood. Most of those were fun–I got to hang out with cousins I didn’t often see, telling stories from past adventures, stifling our giggles so as not to draw unwelcome attention from our parents. But as I grew up, funerals became occasions for grieving the loss of someone dear, or coming alongside a friend in their grief. Not fun, and therefore something to avoid whenever possible.

Frau auf Beerdigung mit Sarg

Now that I serve as a pastor in my church, I don’t get to avoid funerals anymore. In fact, yesterday I helped lead one. It was the first time I had served in that role, and I found it to be very meaningful.

I was blessed to visit with Diana in the days leading up to her transition. Admittedly, I have only known her for a half-dozen of her 82 years, but in that short time I came to respect and love her. Diana was probably the most grace-filled woman I have ever known. Her son confirmed this in his remarks at her funeral, reflecting that Diana accepted whatever life brought her way with quiet grace. This was certainly true in her last days. My final visit with her, just 48 hours before she passed, she greeted me with her sweet smile and gathered strength to thank me for coming, grace-filled to the end. Indeed, I was told that her transition from this life to the next was one of grace-filled peace.

On the way back from the graveside service yesterday, the funeral director commented that people often question the need for funerals these days. I can understand that–it’s expensive, it requires thoughtful planning, and it takes time away from things we would rather be doing. Moreover, it forces us to face our own mortality. And that is exactly why funerals are important.

As I ponder Diana’s life and death, I remember that my life grows shorter each day, too. I am now much closer to my own transition to eternity than when I first began! And I find questions arising out of that truth…

What am I doing with my life that honors God for his gracious giving of it? Am I living true to my calling? Where am I missing the mark? Am I taking full advantage of this life as training ground for the next?

As I ponder these questions, I know this: I want to be more like Diana, full of grace. Too much I rant and rave and shake my fist at God, to no avail. I want to be like soft clay in the hands of the Potter, that he might cultivate a quiet grace in me that blesses others and allows me to hear God in the stillness (think Elijah, 1 Kings 19:1-16). I want to accept what comes my way with unwavering faith in the God from whom all grace flows.

Everything teaches…even funerals. So I won’t avoid them anymore. Rather, I will seize the opportunity to face and reflect on my own mortality. I will welcome the hard questions and yield to God as he equips me for the good work he has called me to do, both here in this life and in the life to come. Amen and amen!