What happens when life no longer makes sense?
When faith no longer makes sense?
My faith has always been so real to me. I accepted Jesus as my Savior at a young age, and my relationship with God always seemed to come fairly easy.
But, I had never found myself here before. Here at this place where my altered plans wreak such havoc upon my heart. Here where anger, and frustration, and immense heartache come rushing together in such a current that I am almost overtaken by the wave of emotion.
Here on my knees, I find myself questioning everything I have ever believed to be true about this God I serve.
"Remember your promise to me; it is my only hope. Your promise revives me; it comforts me in all my troubles."
Psalm 119:49-50 (NLT)
Because if God loves me, why is He allowing me to endure this?
And, if He is truly all-powerful, why hasn't He just fixed it?
And, if my God is good, why does this feel so bad?
All the questioning began when my beautiful healthy baby had her first seizure at 3 months old. I'll never forget the night I received that phone call. I was out running a quick errand when the phone rang and I answered assuming my husband just needed me to grab one more thing. However, the concerned voice on the other end told a different story. A story that quickly turned to panic, an ambulance ride, hospital stay, every test they could run, and a whole lot of unanswered questions.
But, we believed in a God bigger than all of this, so we proclaimed that He was good and believed we would never deal with this issue again. Our child was healthy.
Unfortunately, our proclamation of good health was really wrong. The seizures continued. They got worse, longer. Scarier. And, little did we know, we had embarked on a long and excruciating journey.
As the seizures continued, so did the questioning. How could my good Father watch His child endure such heart-ache? My baby was perfect and innocent, yet the storm that raged within her body told a different story. Why her?
Through ambulance rides, life flight experiences and horrific CPR attempts, I found myself digging deep into questions I had never asked before. And, when much of that culminated in her official diagnosis of Dravet Syndrome, a rare and "catastrophic" form of epilepsy, I found myself broken. On the floor. Literally, unable to function.
You see, it's seemingly easy to proclaim a faith. When life feels good, it's also pretty easy to believe it.
BUT, here, it turns out not to be so easy. I just couldn't bring myself to understand it.
This reality was not what I had planned for; it assuredly was not what I had prayed for.
I found myself reeling, and wondering. The math wasn't adding up. How could I make my reality RIGHT with my beliefs?
The thing is- I couldn't.
Throughout all my tears, my prayers, and my questions, I never heard God audibly give an answer. He never reached down and healed my child (not yet anyway), despite my belief that He can do so with just one whisper. It seems that it would take SO little from Him. Yet, we wait. We endure.
And somehow, through all my winding paths, He has never let me go. It's like even when every circumstance around me screams for me to give up hope, He won't let me.
And even when I try to turn my face away, He pursues me.
When my humanity wants to curse Him for this unfair reality, He reminds me that if life was truly fair there would be no hope for me at all.
And, while I've asked Him a million times why He will not heal my child, I am reminded that her ultimate healing has been paid for, with the blood of the Lamb, the sacrifice that paid for us all.
You see, the entire foundation of my belief system I quickly forgot- the reality that God is God.
The reality that His ways are so far above mine, I can't even comprehend Him, not completely.
The reality that my circumstance does NOT define my God.
That He IS God, no matter what I face in this broken life. HE IS GOD.
Either, this whole thing is a lie. OR I cling all the more tightly to this Jesus I have lived my life proclaiming because now I need Him more than ever before.
What would you do?
I choose HOPE.
I choose Jesus.
I choose something more than my present circumstance.
If you too, find yourself wondering winding roads or asking hard questions, may you find rest in a God who is bigger than anything we face in this life. A God who is STILL God, even when we don't understand Him. And, sometimes, I have learned that this belief alone has to become ENOUGH- when the pain doesn’t go away, the healing hasn’t occurred, or God has not removed the burden; God is God. May that be all we need. May that be the truth we cling to.
And, at the end of the best day OR at the end of the worst day, may our hearts still proclaim, "Lord, it is well."
"For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken."
Psalm 62:5-6 (ESV)
"When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you."
Isaiah 43:2 (NASB)
Sarah Lango is a momma of 3, wife, writer, speaker, Jesus follower, and coffee lover from small town Missouri. She is the founder of Gracefilled Growth, where she writes about her faith, marriage, motherhood journey, and her new experience of being a “sick kids” mom. Her passion is to inspire others to live authentic lives, learning together, and embracing the grace that God so lovingly offers. You can read more of Sarah’s writing at www.gracefilledgrowth.com.