Read this paragraph carefully:
- As she lay there suddenly unconscious, he hovered over her body with his glistening knife. His accomplices nervously awaited his every move as beads of sweat dripped from his forehead despite the well-thought-out plan. He lifted his arm slightly … and then … it happened. His gloved hand began its descent toward her chest. The intense breathing could be heard from behind his mask. Then, swiftly, the glistening knife pierced her skin and went deeper, deeper.
This scenario sounds pretty awful, doesn’t it? However, before you make a judgment call, read the end to the story:
- Within minutes the doctor had removed the deadly bullet which had been lodged perilously close to her heart. She would recover.
Do the last two sentences change your whole outlook of the account? What at first appeared to be a horrendous act of cold-blooded murder … was actually an act of life-saving mercy. The masked man is a surgeon, his accomplices comprise the medical team, and his goal is to save life – not end it.
When we lack proper knowledge, what is good can be mistaken for bad. For example, try telling a two-year-old boy whose own mother is holding him down as a doctor jabs an IV into his arm that the adults are actually trying to help him and not torture him. Explaining this to a child is a difficult – if not impossible – task. The qualitative and quantitative gap in understanding between a baby and an adult is a large one. But, in a few decades, the gap will disappear. A twenty-year-old young lady can comprehend the need for IV hydration. She would not accuse her parents or the doctor of some cruelty. She can accept that while the method for healing is painful, it is necessary.
It is easy to see why a baby being injected for an immunization might be very confused by his mother’s participation in such a painful and mysterious event. A baby needs a few decades to grow in order to have the understanding of an adult, which would give him proper perspective on this protective action.
So, picture if you would, that you are a little child on the lap of God. And He is allowing some mysterious “injection” of pain and struggle to come to you. He is holding you, but it hurts. You have no idea what good this trial could possibly be accomplishing. It makes no sense to you from your limited perspective. All you feel is the agony, and God is holding you there. Should you assume that He is just torturing you? Of course not.
If a finite gap in understanding between children and adults causes a child to confuse necessary healing procedures for seeming torture, how much more could the infinite gap in understanding between humans and God cause us to confuse His ways of healing for what appears to be only misery?
I never expect a baby to comprehend the need for an injection of medicine via a sharp needle. That expectation is unrealistic. I can only hold the baby and hope that he will continue to associate my regular pattern of love and comfort with my current actions, even though he can’t possibly figure them out. One day, after the child has grown, my actions will make sense. He will look back and know that I had his best interest in mind all along.
If we can’t expect a child to grasp the healing work of adults just because fifteen years of growth stands in the way, why do we demand to grasp the method of all of God’s work in our lives when an infinite gap of wisdom stands between us and Him? By doing so, we are placing an unfair demand on our supreme, supernatural, and loving God.
When I get to Heaven, I expect to begin growing in understanding in a way that I simply couldn’t while in this world and bound by sin. Eternity and a new likeness to Christ (I John 3:2) will help me to see all the ways God was making me better through the pain. Until then, I will sit on His lap, and I will trust Him even though it hurts.
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” (Job 13:15, NKJV)