Annually, weekly, monthly, or more, I come up against the question of sorrow. Like Pooh bear, I find myself such a lover of peace thar everything else makes me want to mutter, "oh, bother."
What else, after all, so aptly labels my sorrow? What else adequately describes stress, sickness, pain, or fear? An abrupt departure from the peace for which I know I was created, these inevitabilities rumple my understanding of a good God Who manufactures good reality for His children.
But hidden in these moments of fear and often unwelcome introspection, moments inspired by the "bother" of unlovely times, I find a deeper truth.
"Good", while here on this earth, will always entail the bother of pain. God surely could remove the thorns from every rose, but it is only through my encounter with these thorns that I turn to him in confusion, frustration, or fear. At those most vulnerable moments, His sufficiency edges deeper into my soul than it otherwise could. Over and over, I find myself blaming Him for removing the gift of peace, only to find that peace, regained in the midst of trial because of a deepened trust in my Father, is far sweeter than peace that's never been tried.
Thank You, God, for the beautiful gifts of both joy and sorrow. Let me accept them from Your hand as the good You intend them to be.
