Ever since my youngest brother was able to understand the concept of Santa, he has been the official "waker-upper" on Christmas morning. He goes running through the house at some ridiculously early hour of the morning, yelling about presents and banging open doors. After hearing about the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School, I thought about what Christmas would be like if my family didn't have my youngest brother around, who is in 5th grade this year. Even though sleeping in might be a little nice on Christmas morning, our 10 year family tradition would be ruined. The day would not be the same from the very beginning if my little brother did not wake everyone up. It is deeply saddening that several families had a ruined Christmas this year, because they were missing a son, a daughter, a brother, a sister. It is a tragedy.
But the truth is, child tragedy happens every day. And who mourns for those children? Who sends flowers, who sends up nice thoughts, who prays? Who mourns for the children that lose a mother to AIDS, never had a father, and are now roaming streets just trying to find food? Who mourns for the baby girls lying in cribs all day in an orphanage because their parents didn't think they could bring any honor to their family? Who mourns for the children being eaten alive by worms? Who mourns for the children that die a slow death to Malaria? Who mourns for the children that are given alcohol at night so they can sleep without the pains of hunger? Who mourns for the children that are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and die by our very hand, by our own war? No one. No one mourns for those children. No one cries for them.
This is real life; those children exist. It isn't a dramatized story meant to guilt trip you into giving money. It isn't a wise tale from a far off country. It is reality. So the question I ask myself once I am truly able to wrap my mind around this truth, is what do I do? What do you do? What do we do?
Katie
Friday, December 28, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
El Shaddai
My small group is currently going through Beth Moore's "Living Beyond Yourself" bible study, about the fruits of the Spirit. This week discusses kindness/ goodness, and day one is specified to God's kindness as a father. This day is mostly directed towards moms, using the story of Abraham and Hagar to show God's compassion towards the suffering mother and Ishmael, her son. But when the story comes to the part where Hagar leaves Ishmael because she can't bear to see him die, Beth takes a turn from the expected theme and says this:
"If you have a child who is rejected by his peers, God knows how you feel. If you have a child who is not beautiful to look upon, He knows how you feel. If you have a child who has been betrayed by her friends, He knows how you feel. If you have a child who has begged you to 'fix' something you could not fix, He knows how you feel. If you have a child who is suffering, he knows how you feel. If you have a child who is dying, He knows how you feel. If you have buried a child, He knows how you feel. He's been there, too. However, there is one big difference. He could have changed every bit of it. But He didn't. For you and for me."
I'm not even a parent, but that touched me. So many times I seperate God from my hurt, because I have the image in my head of an untouchable God who knows no grief. This, of course, is completely wrong. Jesus hung dying on a cross, screaming to his dad to "fix" it all, and God turned his face away. He turned his face away from a perfect Son so that we could also be his children. This role of God is the one I overlook the most, since I have a tangible dad on Earth. But God's paternal love for us is the reason he can be a part of our lives at all. He loves us so deeply- as our dad.
"If you have a child who is rejected by his peers, God knows how you feel. If you have a child who is not beautiful to look upon, He knows how you feel. If you have a child who has been betrayed by her friends, He knows how you feel. If you have a child who has begged you to 'fix' something you could not fix, He knows how you feel. If you have a child who is suffering, he knows how you feel. If you have a child who is dying, He knows how you feel. If you have buried a child, He knows how you feel. He's been there, too. However, there is one big difference. He could have changed every bit of it. But He didn't. For you and for me."
I'm not even a parent, but that touched me. So many times I seperate God from my hurt, because I have the image in my head of an untouchable God who knows no grief. This, of course, is completely wrong. Jesus hung dying on a cross, screaming to his dad to "fix" it all, and God turned his face away. He turned his face away from a perfect Son so that we could also be his children. This role of God is the one I overlook the most, since I have a tangible dad on Earth. But God's paternal love for us is the reason he can be a part of our lives at all. He loves us so deeply- as our dad.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)