Where’s God? I can’t find God! The little two-year-old beside me was quite perplexed, and becoming more distraught as she searched among the stack of videos for the one she had her little heart set on. Gan-ma! Where’s God? It was the video that told the creation story with animated characters and a garden full of animals, all made by God. To Gabby, it was her “God-video,” and it was missing. (Grandma did help her find the video. It’s one of those things moms and grandmas are good at.) Gabby’s words though kept coming back to me. There is a treasured delight in hearing her say those words, but I am reminded that life can cause us to echo Gabby’s words in far more serious situations. Mary and Martha, in a despair that only death can bring, asked the same question. Jesus, where have you been? If you had been here, our brother would not have died. Terrified disciples recognized the physical presence of Jesus, but when the storm unleashed its fury, they could not understand why He seemed aloof, uncaring, and sound asleep. The crowd laughed at Jesus when Jairus’ young daughter died. Jesus, you didn’t come in time. She’s gone! It’s too late now! The psalmist too cries out, “O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way? How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand?”
Where’s God? I can’t find God! Those words come when life isn’t fair. Those words come when the struggle seems futile. Those words come when emptiness replaces fullness, when loss is multiplied, when the senseless is the epitome of irrationality, but it’s real. Our spirit cries out for a tangible sense of His presence, and it’s not there. Need demands an answer, and answers aren’t coming. Peace is assaulted. Grace seems barren. Confusion muddles. Where is God?
The same psalmist who cried out to God in his anguish found that God listened. The cry of the psalmist reached the ears of God and God responded. He reached down from heaven and rescued me; he drew me out of deep waters. He led me to a place of safety. He rescued me. He restored me. He lit a lamp for me to light up my darkness. He made a wide path for my feet to keep them from slipping. He showed unfailing love.
Does life sometimes overwhelm us? Do we sometimes push with all our might against the darkness? Do we withdraw sometimes to that deep hidden place within ourselves? Ahh, yes, but God is there. I cannot hide from His presence, and neither does He abandon me. He is the healer, the consoler, the provider. In the darkness of the valley, His goodness and unfailing love pursue me. He calls me to come. He calls me to talk. He promises me that when I least expect it, He will break through. Mary and Martha’s brother was brought back to life, and so too was Jairus’ daughter. To the amazement of the disciples, the storm was quieted. The psalmist was assured of God’s provision. Where’s God? The miracle may not come, and I may ask the question, but God is still there – and the provision will come.
– Bev
(Related Bible reading: Psalm 18:1-6,16,19,20,28,36)
