Have you ever watched a movie or finished reading a book and thought, “What a wretched ending!”? You might even think, “I could have done better than that!” even to the point of finding fault with the script or plot line: “It should have had a happier ending!” I know that feeling all too well. There have been many movies and equally as many books that I’ve indulged in only to be disappointed in the predictable plot and frustrated by the whimsical errors in catching the villain! But that’s in books and movies, and I just resign those tedious moments to the world of fiction.
In real life, however, we are often faced with circumstances that do not have happy endings, and, as in the script of a work of fiction, we have no control over the outcome. Sometimes, we are challenged with events that, had we been given the opportunity, we foolishly believe we would have done things differently. Of course, there are times when our decisions and/or choices can and do make a difference, and we may take comfort in those moments. But ultimately, having committed our lives to Christ as Lord and Saviour, we come to realize that He oversees everything in our lives, the good and the not-so-good. He has the final say. He is in control! But sometimes—just sometimes—our humanity surfaces and we are left asking, “Why?”
Having said that, there are a couple of things on my mind these days.
I have a very dear friend who is struggling with ill health. She is determined to get better, and yet her current circumstances leave her discouraged and despondent. I love her dearly and I wish I could write the script that would give her freedom from pain. However, although it is beyond anything I can physically do, it’s not beyond my ability, and yes, my responsibility to pray for her. But here’s the thing: I struggle with remaining faithful in praying. Do you ever find yourself in that place? I want to be faithful, but I am not always successful. [Jesus describes this in Matthew 26:41, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”] I want my friend to know she is being lifted up before the throne of grace daily. As well, I want my family to know that I’m remembering them. Where they are in life circumstances. The challenges they face. Their joys and their sorrows. I want them to know they are loved and cared about, even when a continent or an ocean or just a few miles prevents visual interaction. A recent post on Facebook offers the best summary of those wants: “When my arms can’t reach people who are close to my heart, I always hug them with my prayers.” That is my ultimate goal as a wife, a mother and a friend.
As a final thought on the topic of prayer…
High on the list of my favourite authors, Max Lucado makes a profound statement in The Great House of God: “The words of [a] prayer vary, but the response never changes. The Savior hears the prayer. He silences heaven, so he won’t miss a word. He hears the prayer.” What a gentle reminder for me, and perhaps for others, of the value and importance of the gift of prayer and our need for it. Lord, help me to be faithful.
The other thing on my mind is a phrase I’ve been guilty of saying, perhaps not so much now, but I do think on it from time to time. It’s a phrase that is steeped in self-pity, a phrase I’m not proud of, and one that I’d like to push the delete button once expressed. When life brings surprises that are not of the happy kind, I’ve too often said, “I didn’t buy into this!” How self-indulging! I’m reminded of the statement the Apostle Paul said about being well fed or hungry, having plenty or living in want: “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…I can do all this through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:11, NIV), and I’m driven to regret my woe-is-me approach to life.
One again, in a simple and thought-provoking way, Max Lucado provides another gentle reminder. In No Wonder They Call Him the Savior, he reminds his readers, and ultimately me, that Jesus faced circumstances we can’t begin to imagine. In the company of Peter, James and John, Jesus “began to be deeply distressed and troubled.” He said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” (Mark 14:33-34 NIV). In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus suffered pain and sorrow to the point of death while He was cloaked in human flesh. The lesson Max points out to his readers, and to me, is that the next time I’m in a fog of self-pity, I might do well to remember Jesus in the garden. The next time I think that no one understands me and my pain, whether physical or emotional, I need to reread the fourteenth chapter of Mark and “pay a visit to Gethsemane.” As Max points out, the next time I wonder if God really hears my prayers and knows the pain my friend is suffering or the emotional roller-coaster I find myself on, I need to “listen to [Jesus] pleading among the twisted trees.”
And a final thought on this topic…
When my circumstances seem uphill in all directions and I have a hard time staying focussed on the Source of my strength, I have a wooden plaque in my kitchen that I read many times throughout the day: “In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus.” It really helps me focus on the One who is able…
I can’t re-write the script for a dull and rainy day. I can’t turn to a different ‘channel’ and find sunshine, or happy endings, or heal my friend’s pain, or carry the burden of a family member. Perhaps this ‘real’ day has left me writing from my heart more than usual. Nevertheless, it’s rather humbling to be transparent. Trust it is a blessing to anyone who needed the reminder as much as I did.
“The LORD is my strength and my shield;
my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.”
Psalm 28:7
Follow Me!