There
are no perfect families. Let’s just put
that out there from the beginning. Sometimes in Christians circles, we make it seem as if a family of Christians should be blissfully loving and problem-free. I don’t know what happens in your family on a typical Sunday morning. Maybe there is usually a big fight in the car ride
on the way there. You all have to calm
down and get pleasant looks on your faces before you came into the
building. Maybe some member of your
family refuses to come to church, even though they know you want them there, even though you
pray every Sunday will be different.
Maybe you’ve broken contact with some member of your family, and part of
you is angry and thinks, “This isn’t all my fault. They need to apologize.” But part of you is deeply sad, and almost
willing to do whatever it takes to bring them back. Maybe some member of your family is suffering
with a mental illness or an addiction that makes them a very different person
than they used to be, and makes your home and your life chaotic. I’m not giving away any secrets here; in
any large group of people, there are stories like that, and more. Maybe something else is going on in your
family right now that keeps you awake at night, brings you to tears, or makes
you furious. And Sunday mornings, you sit in a room full of attractive, well-dressed people, including some couples who seem
very happy together, and some families with children who look well-adjusted and
beautiful. And you’re tempted to think,
“Everyone has it together but me. What’s
wrong with me?”
Thursday, February 25, 2016
The Savior's Dysfunctional Family
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Refining Fire
Note: Since
the start of the year, we’ve been studying 1 Peter with the theme “Making
Progress,” asking the question, “How can we become better people in a culture
that does not encourage our faith?” This Sunday, we'll be looking at 1 Peter 4:12-19.
When
my daughter Kayleigh was born, I made almost all of her doctor’s
appointments. These were not fun
events. Once, the doctor had to give her
a round of shots. He told me to hold her
still. Now, Kayleigh didn’t really like
me much in those days. Unlike Carrie, I
wasn’t soft and gentle, I clearly didn’t know what I was doing--which she could
innately sense--and worst of all, I didn’t produce milk. But useless as I was, she somehow knew it was
my job to protect her. So when I held
her down with all my might while Dr. Voldemort attacked her over and over with
a razor sharp needle, she screamed and cried and stared right into my eyes with
a look that said, “Why are you doing this to me?”
When life gets hard, there are two ways
religious people tend to react. We get
angry with God, or we think God is angry with us. We get angry with God because we feel like
He has broken some sort of agreement. We
say things like, “Haven’t I done things the right way? I go to church, I’m kind to others, I try to
follow your commands. Is this how you
repay me?” Actually, people in Scripture
such as Job and David reacted this way sometimes, so you’re not a horrible
person if you feel this way, too. But
Scripture also tells us, again and again, that pain and suffering are part of
life on this earth. God’s best people
suffered in terrible ways. That’s why
Peter tells his readers not to be surprised at the troubles they are
facing. We are not promised a pain-free
existence, not yet. Those who think,
“God must be angry with me,” are also incorrect. In Scripture, God did sometimes use
circumstances to punish people. But
every time He did, they knew why they were experiencing the pain. They could draw a clear line from their sin
to the consequences. This is why in
verse 15, Peter tells them to make sure that if they suffer, it’s not because of
any crime they’ve committed. If we get
drunk and get behind the wheel of a car, we shouldn’t be surprised that we
crash; if we don’t deal with our foul temper, we shouldn’t blame God because
our loved ones don’t want to be around us anymore. But if our pain seems random, it’s not the
Judgment of God. If it were, He’d let us
know it.
The truth is, most of the time, we
won’t know exactly why God allows a particular painful event into our
lives. Tim Keller pastors in Manhattan,
and most of the people he meets have no Christian background. Sometimes, they will say, “I don’t believe in
God because something awful happened to me, and if God was real and loved me,
He would never let that happen.” Keller’s
response is, “Is it possible that an all-knowing God has a reason for allowing
this pain that you cannot comprehend?”
They have to admit that it is possible.
I think about that day in the doctor’s office. Could I have prevented Kayleigh’s pain? Absolutely, but I knew the pain was for her
good. Could she understand that, no
matter how I tried to explain it?
Absolutely not. Sometimes, we
just have to trust Him without knowing what He’s up to.
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