Like many churches, my family’s church has a regular worship program for pre-school aged children complete with puppets, actors, storytellers, and an assortment of other Biblically oriented info-tainment geared toward children. Of course, the focal point of all the activity is the stage. Ours is a garden-variety twenty-foot wide rectangle with a clever backdrop consisting of three facades decorated to resemble houses – miniature houses – each having its own front door, faux yard, and white picket fence. It is a carefully fabricated piece of Americana. Behind each door “lives” a different felt-skinned character who imparts Biblical wisdom in lively and engaging fashion (so engaging that my children are more likely able to tell you what virtue an orange hued puppet extolled three Sunday’s ago than what chore I asked them to do three minutes ago).
Not long ago, my son – newly graduated to Kindergarten – accompanied me on an errand to church on a Thursday afternoon. Our task required us to venture near the children’s worship area and, as Thursday afternoons tend to be rather quiet in even the most robust church, the pre-school worship room was deserted. So, when my son, with his explorer’s heart, requested that we look around the room, I agreed. And, though he didn’t intend to, he taught me a lesson.
Oh! If you could have seen the wonder in his eyes as we stepped through the threshold of the first house and he peered behind the scenery at the meticulously organized, yet dreadfully plain rear of the stage. “Daddy! It’s all one room. They’re all connected. I thought there were three houses!” And, while it didn’t strike me at that very moment, as I later shared the event with my wife, I recalled the words God spoke to Jeremiah as He explained His divine protection and plan for the nation of Israel. “For I know the plans I have for you…plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future,” (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV).
In those words, my perception problem met the precise preparation of the Almighty. I began to understand the inordinate amount of preparation and skillful choreography that my Father in heaven puts into each minute of my life. Despite my wonderings. In spit of my tantrums. My God has plans for me. If He has a plan for the destiny of a nation, how much more does He have a plan for me. In those moments when life seems to get the best of me I shouldn’t behave like a pre-schooler watching a performance gone astray. I ought to remember that, backstage, the Director is directing. But, most of the time I don’t.
That, of course is when the real problems begin. When I chose to see life as a cosmic free-for-all the results are never pretty. In the best of circumstances, I become a petulant child, throwing myself to the ground and expressing rage at my Father for not making things go my way. I stomp my feet, clench my fists, and flail. I scream. I pout. I thrash about. I see my life and my situation as an audience member witnessing a performance gone horribly awry. I have paid good money for these tickets and this is not the performance I expected. I quickly forget the work done behind the scenes, believing that what I see is what I get.
Worse, still, I sometimes decide that the only effective course of action is my course of action. So, with utmost haste, I (attempt to) take control and direct the play and its players myself. The problem is I have no directorial experience. I have no production experience. I am an actor of the worst kind; I lack any serious talent and have a diva complex. I often forgets my lines, skip rehearsals, and require only the finest bottled water. I pout and throw fits, and because I think I am in charge, I expect people to respond. I am, after all, the center of the Universe and if God can’t remember that, well…everyone else better.
What’s amazing is that the Master of all Universes – my minuscule one included – is not amused, but somehow manages to be patient. While either of my approaches is horribly glorious in its myopic humanness and neither acknowledges that the same God who thought me into being might have an idea as to how to handle my current situation, the simple truth is that He has His eyes on me now as much as when He does when life is easy. And, though God doesn’t seem to use His “Easy Button” as much as I think He ought to, the Bible teaches that our Heavenly Father “works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Rom. 8:28 NIV).
Simple words. Profound message. God works for good…
Career quagmire? God works for good.
Poor prognosis? God works for good.
Fractured family? God works for good.
Disabling debt? God works for good.
Some say that there are no atheists in foxholes, but it may be that foxhole situations only reveal our true leanings. For every unbeliever who cries out to God for his salvation, I imagine there is a Christ follower who simply cries or worse cries out to himself for salvation. Nevertheless, while it is easy to thank God in the midst of comfort and peace, we are compelled to recall that in times of despair God works for good.
Don’t agree? Ask Joseph. Sure, he had a little bit of a superiority complex. Still, did Joseph really deserve what his own brothers did to him? If you think the sneers you tolerate across the Thanksgiving table are bad you might step into Joseph’s hole (literally). After tossing him in a pit, his brothers began debating whether they should kill him. Lucky for him, cooler heads prevailed and they only sold him into slavery – sarcasm intended. But it doesn’t end there. After being poked and prodded on the slave-house auction block, he had to suffering the indignity of an attempted rape at the hands of his owner’s wife only to be tossed into an Egyptian prison after she accused him of the same crime, a crime he didn’t commit! Still – and it’s a long story – it didn’t last forever. When famine forced his brothers to travel to Egypt in search of food they found themselves pleading at the feet of none other than their scorned sibling. Instead of Joseph the slave or Joseph the prisoner, however, they find Joseph, Pharaoh’s chief of staff. And better still, he welcomed them saying – don’t miss it because here is the lesson – “…it was not you who sent me here, but God.” (Gen. 45:8 NIV). How did that happen? God works for good.
Still not sure? Ask Paul and Silas. They were in jail…again. After being beaten in the brutal fashion sanctioned by a Roman government determined to keep the peace, they were chained to and hung on a wall. Aching. Injured. Shattered. Battered. But, not defeated. Instead of lamenting, Paul and Silas sang, and not in a figurative sense. They literally opened their mouths, the same mouths that had been bloodied by the beating, and praised Jesus the Savior in song. In prison, in want of rescue, they praised a Savior who allowed them to be in this situation. That is faith. That, of course, is when it happened. In the flash of a miracle that could only have come from God, “all the prison doors flew open, and everybody’s chains came loose.” (Acts 16:26 NIV). Earthquakes might open doors, but earthquakes don’t loosen chains – that’s God’s handiwork. When the jailer entered, sword drawn, prepared to commit hari-kari rather than suffer the inevitable beating (one similar to what Paul and Silas had just endured) that would be visited on him as punishment for the mass flight of his prisoners, what did he find? Two Jesus freaks more interested in evangelism than escape. That night, the jailer – and his entire family – was saved. If not for Paul and Silas’ imprisonment, what would have become of the souls of the jailer and his kin? No telling, but one thing the jailer, his family, and Silas would say (and Paul did say); God works for good.
Need more proof? Ask Jesus. Not long ago He had entered Jerusalem amidst shouts of “Hosanna!” The people thought Him to be the king sent to save them from an oppressive occupying force. Instead, He went from hero to zero in less time than it took a Pharisee to wash his hands. From celebrated to reviled in less than a week. Why? He claimed to be more than a king, He claimed to be the King of kings and those in authority would have none of that. One has to wonder, though, did they not witness miracles done in the name of the Most High God? Did they not see Him fulfill prophecy after prophecy with their own eyes? They did, but this was how it had to be done. In order to become an atoning sacrifice He had to endure and ultimately die in the most shameful and painful of manner ever devised; stretched naked, skin in ribbons, suffocating, and ridiculed, the Maker of Heaven and Earth was made to hang on a cross. In that moment along with an innocent carpenter from Nazareth all of humanity hung in the balance. But, before His last gasp the divine Director of life, clothed in humanity and nailed to a cross, asked the same question we all ask in the most difficult of circumstances, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mt. 27:46 NIV). He did not have a perception problem. He knew what was and is and is to come, but He asked it anyway. Though there are certainly a myriad of theological explanations as to why the Son, who knew the plan, asked the Father this question, I believe it was to show us that the question is not out of bounds. We hear it from Jesus and it resonates in our souls. He knew it then and we understand it now, though it was horrific this was the only way we could be redeemed. Our sin required a permanent atoning sacrifice of an unblemished lamb and only Jesus had the credentials. His death was tragic, but is was also triumphant. Though His lungs no longer inflated and His heart no longer beat. Though He died. Now, He lives. Dead men don’t walk and they don’t talk. Jesus did both. Three days after His shocking and gruesome sacrifice, Jesus stepped out of the grave. The murder of God on the cross of Calvary turned out to be the hinge of all history, the glorious redemption offered to all of mankind was born in His resurrection. Even in the deepest dark, God works for good.
There is more to Romans 8:28 than God’s promise to work for good. The passage goes on to tell us for whom God’s good work is designed – “those who love him” – and for what aim – “who have been called according to his purpose.” Joseph. Paul. Jesus. Me. You?
The good news is that God is at work in all we are and all we do. Yet, that is not all. His work is for His objective. Surely, Joseph would have liked to be Pharaoh’s number one advisor without the trials that brought him there, but without those trials Joseph would not have been the man he was when his brothers found him. Paul and Silas, too. Missionary work is hard work and, despite Paul’s writings regarding the joys of suffering for the Gospel message, there is little doubt that he, like the rest of us, would have gladly preached without ever-present danger lurking around every corner. Even Jesus prayed in Gethsemane, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” (Lk. 22:42 NIV).
But, if you are His. If you have placed your trust in the Suffering Savior who left the palatial glory of Heaven to endure the hardship of this Earth and the scorn of His creation you can rest assured that whether life is good or bad – in the noise and in the silence – He is looking out for you. As the Psalmist tells us, “the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” (Ps 121:8 NIV). The same Creator that hung each star in the heavens, who formed each water molecule in the oceans is the same Weaver who stooped down from Heaven and created your inmost being, who knit you together in your mother’s womb. (Ps. 139:13 NIV paraphrase mine). There it is, the God who created all things large and small, is the same God who takes interest in each of us. He did not set the Earth in motion only to sit back and watch us spin out of control. He is not asleep at the wheel. (Ps. 121:4 NIV). He is at work. He is backstage directing.
So, what’s your problem, is it perception?
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