Do you ever just want to know what the heck happened? Why, in the name of all good things, of all people, did it have to be YOU. The heartbreak, tragedy, death, fear, mental illness, physical ailment – in the moments of grief when all you want is for something to make sense in even the smallest ways, you wonder, why me? Why.
That is such a strange question. It just kind of morphs into a default statement, like, God, I’m not even expecting you to answer because I’m too angry, broken, afraid, but I need to vent my frustration in some way. So “Why?” become “Why!” or “Why.”
Our why becomes a desperate cry or a bottom-of-the-barrel, painfully difficult to say, whisper to a God we thought we believed was good. Can He be good when I’m struggling like this? Can He be good when I am so hurt? When I am so afraid? When I feel so utterly alone? When I feel rejected?
My “Why” morphs into an identity-questioning crisis. In those moments of deepest sorrow, I find myself wondering if maybe I’ve done something – to make God angry. To cause so much pain. What did I do?
I ask what did I do instead of remembering what He has done.
Instead of remembering that He went to the cross for moments like these. Because these seasons, this pain and fear and uncertainty, they are most certainly not punishments because God is not evil and He certainly doesn’t cause it. But there is an enemy that does everything in his power to make use think God is not good or has somehow abandoned us.
But even if He doesn’t come through in the way we want Him to, he is still good.
He is still good because in spite of our struggles, our sin, our frustrations, and our insecurities and shortcomings, He still went to the cross. Staring down rejection, death, and fear – stomping it out in the light of grace.
AND I AM CONVINCED… THERE IS NOTHING THAT CAN SEPARATE US FROM THE LOVE OF GOD
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
Fully known, fully loved, and completely and utterly cherished.
Identity revealed in the word “Child” because that is who I am and that is who you are. CHILD, cherished, and completely covered in grace that is not in any way understandable.
NO LONGER BOUND by sin and death, but completely under the peace of the cross. Peace doesn’t mean prosperity or perfection, it means contentedness and a joy that transcends understanding.
We don’t have to be able to wrap our minds around it, but to accept this wonderful gift, I’ve run into the tough reality that we have to be able to come to terms with the fact that Jesus has made us worthy to receive it. We have to accept the grace in order to receive it.
It seems a very straightforward concept but becomes increasingly difficult to grasp when standing face to face with Jesus extending His hand of hope.
The resounding cry of my heart has been “I’m alone and unworthy”, and the still, small, sweet whisper of the Father has been, “My Child, I have made you worthy.”
When I ask “Why”, He answers with that statement – what I have been clinging to – “My Child, I have made you worthy.”