Tsunami - Part Three

But why? Why does God allow such things to occur?

A friend of mine used this analogy to explain that very question to me. We look at the assault on Normandy beach, D-Day, in World War II. That one battle numbered among the top, if not the top number of American casualties suffered in the entire war. Many of us have seen Saving Private Ryan which can only offer the barest glimpse as to what it must’ve been like to really be there. Those who served truly know the horror it must have been. But that assault was vitally important for the allied force; indeed, it was necessary. God does not say that we will not face trials. He does say that when we do walk through the valley of the shadow of death, that he will be with us.

Those soldiers did not know the overall strategy. I am willing to wager they did not know much more beyond the fact that there was a beach that had to be stormed, through barb wire, walls and pillboxes of entrenched, hardened Nazi soldiers; but they trusted in their Commanders to see them through. And what is another word for trust?

Faith.

If those soldiers could put their trust in earthly commanders, how much more can we trust someone who underwent crucifixion for us?

I do not know why God allows certain things to happen. But there are times I can look back on that seemed rather painful and only after do I see the footprints of the hound of heaven chasing after me and herding me towards the correct path. If I may wax a little personal, a little over a year ago I broke my toe when I lost my temper and kicked a cement wall. Not my best moment. At the time there were many stressful factors in my life that kept building up until I lashed out, rather blindly, at the totally innocent wall. While my bone was broken, I needed crutches, transportation to and from classes, I needed people to walk slowly so I could maneuver across the icy sidewalks rather precariously; I needed people to understand my physical limitations and show me grace, and I needed to show grace to myself. It is only after me breaking my toe that God was able to break my heart, and mend it in a far more healthy way.

I have quoted this passage before as well, but I would like to quote it again.

In one of his final articles Malcolm Muggeridge, who lived a rather sensuous life, wrote this (after he accepted Jesus Christ into his life). “Contrary to what might be expected, at the time experiences that seemed desolating and painful I now look back on with particular satisfaction. Indeed I can honestly say this, everything that I have learned in my seventy-five years of life, everything that has delighted and enhanced my existence has been through suffering and not through happiness, whether pursued or attained. In other words I say that were it to prove possible to remove pain and suffering from our lives by the means of some pill or other medical mumbo-jumbo that the result would not be to make life delectable, but to make it too banal and too trivial to be endurable. This is, of course, what the cross signifies. And it is the cross more than anything else that has drawn me inexorably to Christ.”

God very rarely smites the wicked in such open and blunt ways, so I doubt that this tsunami was merely retribution against what some would call wicked people. I do not know why it has happened but I know someone who has told me that, whatever happens, my grief is meaningful, and that He will comfort me. One of the most powerful revelations I have had concerning the scriptures is this: Jesus was most glorified when he was on the cross. Not when he fed thousands with a few loaves of bread and some fish, not when he healed the sick, raised the dead or made the blind see; Jesus was most glorified when he was hanging from the cross and he shouts “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The moment of God’s greatest glory and greatest victory was when he seemed the furthest from his own son.

Because in that moment God withdrew his presence from his one and only son, whom he loves; He turned his face away from Jesus who was undergoing the penalty for all of our sins so that He could turn His face to ours. And as I have previously discussed in my posts concerning the crucifixion of Christ, when we see the face of God crying out “Holy Father,” again and again in the garden, we realize that His omniscience is no longer terrifying, and His omnipotence is no longer paralyzing.

Going back to the metaphor of the soldiers trusting their commander, I thought it appropriate to end with this simple poem written by a soldier in a shell-hole.

Lord God I have never spoken to you.
But now I would like to say, “How do you do?”
You see God they told me you didn’t exist,
And like a fool I believed all of this.
If I had taken the time to see the world you’ve made,
I’d have known they weren’t calling a spade, a spade.
The signal, well God, I’ve got to go
I love you lots, I want you to know.
This may be a horrible fight;
Who knows, I may come to your house tonight.
Although I wasn’t friendly to you before
I wonder now if you’d wait at your door.
I hope that you will take my hand
Somehow I feel that you’d understand.
Look I’m crying, I’m shedding tears
I have to go now God, goodbye,
Strange how since I’ve met you,
I’m not afraid to die.