Open Hands

Tomorrow is Calvin's birthday. Actually, while we were in the ER tonight (I'm making friends with the nurses there) it was his real birthday (Thailand time). So much has transpired in a year's time. I've been reading over some blog posts written around the time of Calvin's birth and shortly after. I remember feeling like I had Calvin wrapped tightly in my hands and couldn't let him go. Grace and time changes many things.

This year has been a very painful process of God taking our hands and peeling back the fingers, one by one. No, you can't have a gaurantee on his life. No, you don't know what the future holds. No, you cannot stay in Cambodia. Yes, he will have to go through suffering. Trust me. Trust me.

There were times of complete surrender to the Lord and resting in His providence, and there have been many times I've been angry. Really angry.

I wanted to meet God in court. I wanted to shout, "I wouldn't do this to people if I were God." I wanted to scream in anger at the unjustness and unfairness of my son having to suffer. I felt I had the moral high ground and God needed to answer to me even though I knew it was wrong. "Why don't you intervene, show your power, your healing?" I'd argue, reason, stamp my feet in utter frustration. But there was no answer. At least to those questions.

But He did say over and over through His word, trust me.

But I did trust you, Lord, and look where we are! Where are your blessings? Where is your fatherly care? I am completely alone, You have forgotten me. Trust me.

Somewhere in the course of the year our weary souls began to forsake all of the anger at God. No longer was He the one holding the keys to what we desired, but He became our comforter.

He doesn't answer to us. He doesn't tell me why. But His sorrow over this broken world, His compassion for needy sinners, His love for His people is written all over the pages of His word.

He reassures us of His care for our sorrow. Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah. Psalms 62:8.

He tells us that He cared enough for the sorrows of His people to be made like us. I cannot understand that love and condesension. Wherefore in all things it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. Hebrews 2:17

Sometimes I'm tempted to think He is far removed from our situation and just moves us as pawns on this board of life. Then I'm reminded of His sorrow over brokeness as He looked over Jerusalem. Jesus wept. That is not a God who is removed.

I cannot explain suffering. I cannot explain how a sovereign good God allows and directs horrible tragedies and suffering. Yet I also cannot explain how a perfect and righteous God sent His Son to this world of tragedy and sin in order to redeem sinners. People who did not even want Him. I can't explain that love.

It is this love, this persevering grace of God that keeps us. It tenderly pries our fingers off of Calvin, leaving him open in our palms, trusting him to our gracious and heavenly Father who does all things well.