What If....
I woke this morning with one of "those dreams." This time it was Daddy who had died, in my dream, and a series of images passed through my mind, each worse than the last. Mama grieving. My little sisters without a father. How we would live. The loss of his voice, smile, presence, jokes... my loss. I forget when the tears began, but once they came I couldn't stop.
Dreams like this one come to me usually when I am very tired. It seems unfair that they should attack me just at the times when I have the least strength, but they do drive me to God. The recurrent question which I always find within myself, waking up from one of them, is "Could I still believe that God is good, and that he loves me, if that happened?" And I always answer, "I hope I could, but I don't know."
Mama once said something very wise to me on this subject. She said, "God doesn't give us strength for what might happen, Honey. He gives us strength for today."
But what about the bright hope for tomorrow? Why do these horrible dreams come and play on my altogether-too-vivid imagination? Why must I wake up, at least once a month, sobbing as though the horror had actually occurred? Indeed, it presents itself to me in such real images that I have been known to think, for several minutes together, that it has occurred.
But, as I said, it drives me to God. It drives me to question, doubt, and then reaffirm my committment. The truth is, if my whole world broke down around me, I think that I would cling still more to God. Not because it seems reasonable (i.e. an intelligent unbeliever might ask why I hold tighter to the very God who could have kept my pain from happening), but because faith transcends reason, I would turn to the only person in my life who will not die or cease to love me.
It is more consistent with the universe, and with universal experience, to believe that God still loves me and has a reason for causing me anguish (which I haven't grasped, because I am human) than to believe that he hates me and wants to hurt me. My whole experience of God has been that he wounds only in order to heal. I can doubt everything except his lovingkindness---that I have not seriously doubted since my senior year of high school, and hope I never shall again.
So, to the question "What if?" I answer "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him."
After all, whom else have I in heaven but him?
Dreams like this one come to me usually when I am very tired. It seems unfair that they should attack me just at the times when I have the least strength, but they do drive me to God. The recurrent question which I always find within myself, waking up from one of them, is "Could I still believe that God is good, and that he loves me, if that happened?" And I always answer, "I hope I could, but I don't know."
Mama once said something very wise to me on this subject. She said, "God doesn't give us strength for what might happen, Honey. He gives us strength for today."
But what about the bright hope for tomorrow? Why do these horrible dreams come and play on my altogether-too-vivid imagination? Why must I wake up, at least once a month, sobbing as though the horror had actually occurred? Indeed, it presents itself to me in such real images that I have been known to think, for several minutes together, that it has occurred.
But, as I said, it drives me to God. It drives me to question, doubt, and then reaffirm my committment. The truth is, if my whole world broke down around me, I think that I would cling still more to God. Not because it seems reasonable (i.e. an intelligent unbeliever might ask why I hold tighter to the very God who could have kept my pain from happening), but because faith transcends reason, I would turn to the only person in my life who will not die or cease to love me.
It is more consistent with the universe, and with universal experience, to believe that God still loves me and has a reason for causing me anguish (which I haven't grasped, because I am human) than to believe that he hates me and wants to hurt me. My whole experience of God has been that he wounds only in order to heal. I can doubt everything except his lovingkindness---that I have not seriously doubted since my senior year of high school, and hope I never shall again.
So, to the question "What if?" I answer "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him."
After all, whom else have I in heaven but him?
posted by Praelucor at 7:09 AM
1 Comments:
Amen, amen, amen, and thank you for posting such biblical encouragement.
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