I have to admit that I questioned God while I was reading the Biblical account of King Manasseh, and his litany of sinful choices, the most egregious of which was child sacrifice. Frankly, I would have kicked him to the curb, and washed my hands of the whole affair. But God forgave him and restored the kingdom to him.
Likewise, I experienced a frisson of doubt regarding the inclusion of Samson in the list enumerated in the Hebrews’ Hall of Faith. I notice, however, that each verse begins with the refrain, “By faith. . .”
“By faith” stands at the beginning, or, from another angle, totally impossible odds are overcome by two equivalent words: “But GOD.”
Abraham, 90. Sarah. . . You don’t ask a lady her exact age. A child? Admit it. You would have laughed too. But GOD.
Joseph, hated by his brothers, sold into slavery, thrown into prison on trumped up charges. “You meant it for evil, but GOD.”
Isaiah, a man of unclean lips, dwelling among a people of unclean lips. But GOD.
Jeremiah, no parades, no potlucks, no parties, no partner. No wonder he was called “The Weeping Prophet.” But GOD.
Gideon, so unsure of himself that he could only insult Baal under cover of darkness, but GOD.
Ruth, marginalized Moabite, destitute and lacking in prospects, but GOD.
Rahab, a shady lady, but GOD.
Bathsheba, embroiled in the machinations of a man’s world, but GOD.
Mary, young, innocent, insignificant, but GOD.
There are certainly plenty of reasons to feel too old, too young, too hated, too unclean, too unsure, too shady, too fat, too thin, too marginalized, too depressed, too lonely, or too insignificant (anyone can supply a fitting adjective). How might the salvific equation look? “I am too old to take on that challenge, but GOD.”
I remember participating in a personal growth camp some years ago. One of the activities included climbing a fairly steep rock face. I dillied and dallied until one of the coaches told me about the time constraints involved, and indicated that something was likely to freeze over if I didn’t get started. Adrenaline propelled me forward, but I discovered that the only way for me to get to the top was to lean into the rock. On their own, my arms could not support me.
The spiritual lesson was not lost on me. I have to lean into the Rock. My arms are weak, but GOD. I am in despair because my friend A is staring death in the face, but GOD. My heart aches because R’s marriage is in disarray, but GOD. The world looks like it’s in a handbasket, so to speak, but GOD.
It’s all about me, but it’s NOT about ME. While I cannot sit and merely do nothing, victory doesn’t come by stark human effort, but by dependable divine faithfulness.
Each day, as I face the challenges of life, I am tempted to rebel and start worrying. But instead of making prayer my last resort, I recalculate and take to heart Paul’s admonition: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God” (Phil. 4:6).
Against all odds, my dependable God responds in compassion. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (v. 7).
I am a sinner, just as Manasseh was a sinner, but GOD.
Ruth Burke practices gratitude in Riverside.