That this post comes directly after my thoughts on suffering is providential, not intentional. There are tough things in life- ugly things- things that push us and challenge our determination & strength.
And then there are… the impossible things in life- despicable things- things that challenge our belief in all that is good and right.
This is when we see the underbelly of the world as parents sacrifice their children’s well-being to support their drug habit.
This is watching a toddler’s life fade as it is slowly taken by an inexplicable, incurable disease.
This is finding out that your best friend’s husband has been cheating on her for five years.
This is watching a young mother mourn the loss of the baby she has hoped and prayed and longed for.
This is INJUSTICE.
These are the things that defy explanation and leave us shaking our fists at the sky.
“Where ARE You, God???”
“If You are good, how can You allow this to be?”
“How long, Lord? How long will You allow this to happen?”
“If You are real, why aren’t you DOING anything??”
The questions go on and on, and any attempt to answer them usually leaves us emptier than we were before the searching. Staring pain and brokenness in the face can be disillusioning. The deeper you look, the darker it gets. Typically, the more we learn about something the more confident we feel about conquering it, but I don’t know that injustice is that way. It only gets worse as you dig. It’s here that I found myself a couple of days ago. I sat in my car alone, with tears streaming down my face, yelling a question at God that I didn’t even expect Him to answer: “WHY??” In this place- this frame of mind- what matters most is what I think about God.
If I think He is an unfeeling judge, I will feel the pain is a sign of His condemnation.
If I think He is an overprotective Father, I will feel He has abandoned me.
If I think He is a busy overseer, I may feel He is indifferent to my pain or too busy to intervene.
But, because of grace, I have a deep friendship with God. I will never know all of Him, but what I do know is very clear in my mind.
He is kind.
He is good.
He is loving.
He is all-powerful.
He is gracious.
And He is NOT okay with injustice.
Just because God is silent does NOT mean He does not care. In fact, He grieves with us.
Grief is a sign that things are not as they should be.
Grief is our soul’s way of reminding us that we are not meant to live this way.
Pain has a purpose. Just as my sore knee tells me I need surgery, the pain we feel when we have a run-in with injustice tells us that the world is not right. The pain sets a fire beneath us and urges us to action.
And…there it is. Not necessarily the answer I was looking for, but the answer I needed.
Where is God in the ugly filth of a brothel in India where a 9-year-old is raped repeatedly?
In the home where the child goes to bed hungry another night?
In the hospital where the toddler is losing his battle against cancer?
In the church where the mother says, “Goodbye” to her precious baby?
He is within us.
WE are His agents of justice.
WE are to be the ones to carry out His mission of making the world right again.
WE are the ones- not to bring trite answers to the grieving but to be present with them, and mourn with them and echo their heart’s sentiment that what they are experiencing isn’t right.
Our grief should drive us- push us- compel us to be who we are supposed to be. We cannot fix everything, and like Job’s friends we are of better service when our mouths are shut and our hearts are open.
We can serve.
We can love.
We can hold.
We can wipe away tears.
We can bring a meal.
We can ride a bike to raise money for change.
We can tell the one, long, true story weaving itself into the fabric of this life: God is love.
He cares so much about turning injustice on its head that He came Himself to begin the movement. And now, He has entrusted it to us.
I’ve found my life’s calling. Through the brokenness and tears, I will spend my life crying out to God asking Him to make this world right and obeying His lead in my life to make that happen.
Join the movement:
To sign up to take one day per month to pray for mothers who have lost children, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.