It feels like a truly horrid thing to say, but there it stood etched upon the pages of my prayer journal, “God, I feel like you betrayed us!” We had prayed, sought wise counsel and followed God’s voice. We thought we were doing the right thing. Nevertheless, He dashed our God-given dream like a ship crashed upon a cliff.
I held the ashes of my incinerated dream and thought, “What in the world just happened?!”
Does anyone else understand?
I can think of a few people who may understand. Perhaps the mothers bereft of their sons at the hands of Herod’s jealousy. Or the women weeping at the foot of the cross crushed by the weight of disappointment. Maybe even the friends of Stephen as they tenderly prepared his blood soaked body for burial.
Conceivably, these sufferers silently asked Jesus the same question I penned in my journal. “God, where are you? I feel like you betrayed us!”
Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Frantic, I scoured my Bible, looking up every verse that talked about God’s rule and kingdom, while at the same time I parsed passage after passage so I could understand Satan’s dominion; a cruel dominion where tornadoes hit faith-filled lives. I wanted to find a clear delineation between the miraculous and the moments those miracles miscarry.
But I came up short. There are no clear answers to glaringly obvious mysteries.
Yet in the midst of the fog, shapes began to form. I saw Jesus speaking boldly about the Kingdom of God suffering violence. I read parables of the flourishing mustard seed and the virgins prepared with extra oil. And I felt the pull towards the paradoxical attributes of mercy, forgiveness and humility. Ever so slowly those shapes became truths, and settled like firm foundations in the shifting sand of my soul.
Unquestionably, God is a not a betrayer. Even though the liar would tempt us believe it. “Did God actually say?” the serpent sneered. Enticed, the woman ate the fruit and imprisoned all humanity under the crafty deceiver. In an instant, sin broke the reflection of God’s perfect rule.
Like a shattered mirror, what once was impeccable is now distorted.
Yes, everything was broken, but all is not lost.
Of course there is good news! When Jesus rescues us from the grip of Satan, Colossians tells us He uproots us from the dominion of darkness and replants us in the Kingdom of God. (Colossians 1:13) Full of grace and redemption, this replanting restores in us what was lost at creation.
However, what do we do when our little sapling is battered? Because obviously, all is not smooth sailing. Storm-ridden seas will undoubtedly pummel our planting. I wish I had known a framework where I could tuck unthinkable pain. But only recently, after studying the Kingdom of God, did I arrive at a structure I felt firm enough to hold the weight of life’s wreckage.
Here it is, and I hope it helps: our roots of faith grow in an unshakable, yet besieged Kingdom.
To borrow a paraphrase of Matthew 11:12 from Dr. Douglas O’Donnell, “The Kingdom of God is always suffering violence at the hands of the violent men.” (Think Herod and the babies he slaughtered in pursuit of Jesus.) Read that one more time. “The Kingdom of God is always suffering violence at the hands of violent men.”
“Suffering violence” feels so apropos to our deepest griefs, doesn’t it?
In the face of such dark attacks, we need tremendous honesty and courage. So this is what we will do, this is our manifesto:
- We will sink our roots into our unshakable Kingdom. We will allow the wind to whip and the tears to fall, but we will trust that He will not fail.
- Like a sniper, we will fix our aim on our enemy and we don’t back down. Our bullets will be prayers and our sword the Word of God.
- Set on mission, we will repair the violence against His Kingdom with selfless acts of mercy, kindness, forgiveness and love.
- We will hold dear, oh so dear, the blessedness of mourning. Meekness. Mercy. Purity. Peacemaking. And persecution.
Please, my dear, when you fall, (when, not if), etch your honest questions and deepest concerns. Then, summon your courage, rise upon one knee, and remember this manifesto. For we flourish in an ostensibly ironic Kingdom, where the way up is down and suffering produces fruit.
But honestly, I wouldn’t want to dwell anywhere else. Because in God’s Kingdom, He takes wreckage and begets wonder.
Great devotional and reminder that God is faithful. If you’ve lived very long, you’ve likely experienced something that can turn your world upside down and shake your faith, but as you said, after we’ve had a little time to listen to the Lord and think things through, we can be confident in his love for us and in his word.
P.S. We went the one of the worst tornadoes in US history April 10th, 1979. We were spared damage, but it was a devastating event, and I can still get choked up telling someone about that day’s events.
Maya, We have sat in our basement through only one tornado. But there was no damage to homes and no lost lives. I cannot imagine how terrifying it would be to have a devastating event nearby. Hugs, sister.