34
Every-day fears and worries tend to get the best of me. I feel like I should be further along by now. That I should be stable and strong through life’s storms. That I should have hope and joy in the midst of difficult circumstances. Instead, “stuff” I’m going through seems to completely overwhelm me these days, and I spend much more time in despair than I do in hope or prayer.
I’ve noticed when I’m hurting and I tell people about it, I hear this verse a lot:
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” NIV
“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” NLT
This is Romans 8:28. Blah Blah Blah.
Perhaps part of my frustration with this verse is I interpret it to mean: “Well you know, everything happens for a reason.” I can’t tell you how many people I’ve heard say these exact words about a difficult situation.
I want to yell, “No!” It doesn’t say everything happens for a reason! It says nothing about reasons! Reason is a “why” question, and this verse makes zero attempt to answer “Why?” It just says, “Well, when life is the way it is, and you can’t figure it all out, rest assured God can use even the ugliness of it to become something beautiful.” This verse tells you what can come of the future, and does not explain the past (Don’t we wish it did?).
The second issue I have with this verse is I expect someTHING good to come out of my bad situation. You know, I lose my job, so I expect an even better job to result within a few weeks. Or a friend moves away, and I expect to meet another wonderful friend shortly, who will be even closer than the one who left.
But as I read this verse in context, I am shocked to discover that isn’t promised either. Here’s some clues from the rest of Romans chapter eight:
18 Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.
Later?
23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us.
I’m groaning all right.
24 We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope for it. 25 But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.)
Not so good in the patience and confidence department. Much better in the frustration and despair department.
29 For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his Son…. 30 And having chosen them, he called them to come to him. And having called them, he gave them right standing with himself. And having given them right standing, he gave them his glory.
Becoming like His Son. Yeah, he was tortured and murdered. Not real promising.
35 Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? 36 (As the Scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”) 37 No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.
There you go with the slaughtering thing again. I thought Christians should always be happy, prosperous, full of faith, and overflowing with blessings because God blesses those He loves.
38 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. 39 No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.
I’m sorry Paul, but I equate love with GOOD STUFF. And if I’m not getting GOOD STUFF I’m not really feeling the love, you with me?
Okay, so all joking aside, if I look over these verses without my sarcastic alter ego, I am shocked. The good thing I am being promised isn’t necessarily a THING.
It is God’s glory inside me (verse 18 & 30).
It is being able to wait with eager hope, waiting patiently and confidently (verse 23-25).
It is becoming like His Son (verse 29).
It is being spiritually victorious even though my life looks like trouble, calamity, persecution, hunger, danger, and death (verse 35-37). (This is a BAD LIST!)
It is being loved by God even when I am afraid and worried (verse 38-39).
“Bad” things (read verse 35 again for a list of VERY bad things) aren’t what he intended life to be like. Remember, God created Eden. Then we sinned. Bad stuff is the resulting mess of sin and Satan. Yet impossibly, God is using something junky He didn’t even create or desire, to work the result of my ultimate “good”: greater Christ-likeness.
Remember when you were a kid learning to ride a bike with no training wheels? Your dad was with you, hanging onto the seat of your bike and running next to you while you pedaled, helping you learn, helping you grow. Eventually, he didn’t have to hold on; he would just watch you, cheering you on.
Then one day, there’s some random rock in the road, and in a split second you’re on the ground with a bloody knee and runny eyes and nose. Your wails bring your dad running.
Keep in mind, you didn’t do anything wrong to deserve the bloody knee. You weren’t doing some activity your parents had told you not to (touching the stove, running in traffic, etc.). And your dad didn’t desert you; in fact he was helping you and cheering you on. But life just happened. Something bad just occurred. And despite your dad’s best intentions, there’s no way he could, or would, remove every rock and fix every pothole. But after this very sad and terrible experience of your bloody knee, in a way he wishes he could.
Instead, he picks you up, carries you inside the house, and cleans you up. He tickles you to get you to laugh. When the nasty soap scrubbing is done, he squeezes and comforts you. He tells you about the first time he took a bad fall off a bike when he was kid. And you bond. Because he was there to pick up the pieces of your tragedy.
Now you are afraid to get back on the bike, afraid of pain. But your dad tells you it can be done. He holds up your bike seat until you overcome your jitters. And you overcome. You learned perseverance. You experienced comfort. You discovered the kind of dad you’ve got, and it makes you trust him a bit more. You gained skill, and know to watch out for rocks.
You have become a stronger person, growing into the mature character of the future adult your dad is hoping you become. Helping you become.
Bloody knees suck. Troubled marriages suck. Mental illness sucks. Falling down and crashing sucks. Broken relationships suck.
There really isn’t GOOD in any of that.
There’s just the hope that despite the ugliness, God can use even its nastiness to help me BE the life – His life – that I always wanted.
