A Great Assumption

You know what God is ‘doing’ in your life, don’t you? What lessons He is teaching; what models He is proposing you follow? My hardship must mean He is teaching me patience; my struggle must mean I am learning to be content; my success, that I am His child and He loves me. After all, you are an astute learner, you have observed that God is one whose lessons are ‘between the lines.’ Maybe other people come to you to help them see what the Almighty is up to in their lives; you’re one who gets it.

Life is hard. Live long enough and you’ll get burned by someone or something. Some hope will be ruthlessly dashed in an unforeseen nightmarish fashion; some damsel will douse your desires while laughing; some strapping cologne-wearing man will find it foolish that you ever thought you had a chance with him; you’ll get cancer; your child may be not what you had hoped; your lone does not go through; the job you excelled in and worked honestly for is taken from you and given to some brown-nosed punk; friends say goodbye; other friends refuse to forgive or are the reason you have knives in your back; your car is smoking from the engine; your baby is crying and you have zero energy already . . . and this is God’s method for teaching?

Friends, there is little doubt that we can wonder why and come to some reasonable conclusion. But does He love you with such enthusiasm that he breaks your bones? For what? To tell you what you already know, that you need help; that you’re not perfect; that you have moral and character flaws?

Something more is afoot. God’s word, fulfilled in Jesus Christ, already show us our needs. God’s words also show us who He is. But life shows us that God exists.

We assume God is revealing to us and prodding us by life’s events. The book of Job corrects our thoughts: God is not a hyper-spiritualist having us look at the grass and wonder why it is folded the way it lies; God is real and the thunder and fireworks of life boisterously announce, ‘Look at me!’ God is saying, ‘Look at me!’ Our troubles and tears are echoes of His voice, ‘Look at me; look at me; I am life itself. More real than your broken wrist; more real than your chaos and hurt.’

We must not think God full of remedies for life’s problems. Nor that He is ambiguously teaching us lessons if we only look for them. We must know that He exists and that He is good and what He has taught us we find in His word. We can complicate—and frustrate—our relationship with God by thinking He, as our Father, must order the confusion of life: peace does not always mean tranquility. I know that God loves His children and I know that He, more than any other, cares for His children deeply. God is unconstrained, like His methods.