A strange power

I’ve been watching God for sixty years. Many of those have been joyful — healing, holding babies, watching my kids grow, enjoying relationships. Many have hurt — abuse, sexual assault, sicknesses, death. I don’t ask why about the joy, but I do ask why about the hurt.

But why!? From the beginning, disorder was present (Genesis 1:1-2; 3:1; 4:8). If we back up a bit and look at God, we see the image of the Cross forming in the Old Testament and coming to be in the New. It seems as if the Cross is the template we’re being urged to work from, not the Garden of Eden that preceded it.

So, if hurt, if disorder is the expected order of the day, then why try? Why live? I hear people ask this question, and I have asked it myself. It’s a version of the “why is there suffering?” And the answer is this: Because God can be found in the midst of the hurt, the disorder. And when God is found, something altogether unworldly begins to happen. Sadness becomes joy. Wisdom (and its accompanying exhilaration) dawns. A strange power fills us awkwardly, and the more we wield it and then come back for more, the less we need explanation.

Reflection

What is your experience of finding God in the midst of hurt?

Prayer

I am waylaid by you, God. I come ready to throw rocks because of all the hurt I see. But as I walk to find you, I have to pass right in front of that Cross. The rocks fall from my fists. And your presence, God. It does something. How is it that your very presence makes all the turmoil, all the question, all the anger, doubt, accusation in me … just fade?