We were watching a movie about the Khmer Rouge when it started raining. We were under the shelter they deemed the “café” but we still got wet as rain dripped through the makeshift roof; but we’d learned not to let it phase us. The rain grew louder and louder, heavier with each second.
After it died down, we continued watching the movie, until our contact, Ra, came in and asked,
“Is anyone here a lifeguard? Does anyone know how to swim?”
I looked over to my friend Kayla, standing next to me. “What’s going on?”
“There are kids stuck in the pond.”
We all left the café, some running, others walking. I didn’t think it was that serious, maybe someone was just stuck in the mud.
But it seemed the whole village was there.
A little girl.
Are you sure she’s under there?
When was the last time anyone saw her?
Who can swim?
15 people were already in the murky water. You couldn’t see anything below the surface.
And then a wail.
That’s the mother.
I remember thinking, This can’t be happening. I can’t handle this.
Jesus, where are you?
God, show up.
Save this little girl, Father.
My hands started shaking, my body followed suit.
Are you sure?
Are you sure?
Are you sure?
The air was so unsure. So tense. So Unwavering. And then a voice:
“In Jesus name I command her body to rise to the surface of the water.”
Nothing.
And then cries.
And then the little girl rising from the depths, face down, naked.
They brought her out of the water and holding her by the feet, ran across the field to try and shake the water out of her.
But it had been too long.
There was no breath.
There was no life.
JESUS WHERE ARE YOU!
I turned to my friend, crying as badly as I, “Who knows if we have come to this place for such a time as this.”
Then we started praying.
Father give her life.
You are the breath, breathe into her.
Raise this girl from the dead.
Breath life into her lungs.
In Jesus name,
In Jesus name,
In Jesus name.
But when nothing happened, I got really really angry.
How could this happen? How, Lord, can 22 missionaries be called to one village and not have this miracle happen! We were praying in faith! You did it with Lazarus, you even did it with a little girl! What about this one, Father? What about her? What about her plans for a hope and a future? Where were you? Where were you when we needed a miracle? What good can come from this? What if they think it was our presence that brought this on?
What!
What!
What!
How can I have faith in this? How can I see the good in this?
We went to the funeral, we prayed for the family, prayed for the girl, prayed for the village. We prayed and prayed and prayed but my heart wasn’t in it. I knew I should have reacted like Job, but instead I felt more like his wife, wanted only to take the good from God and not the bad.
You see, it seems that I’ve been living in this shell of protection from evil. I say God you are good! But only when I can see it. When the going gets tough though, I doubt, my faith wavers, I question. I didn’t understand, and I wanted so badly to know what God was thinking. How does good come out of so much bad? How is God good when this beautiful family just lost their beautiful little girl?
Because in my understanding, that’s not good. It isn’t good when death overtakes a village. It isn’t good when a life is cut short. It isn’t good for someone who thinks she’s strong in her faith to be consumed by doubt. To me, that isn’t good.
But then, things started changing.
We were having a worship night and someone brought light into my increasingly darkened heart.
“I just wanted to share how humbling it is that God called us here, to be in this village, to be His light and His comfort in an extremely dark situation. How humbling that God wanted us here. He knew it would be us, and this was all part of His plan.”
It seemed I just needed a perspective change.
And it was something I realized can be applied to so many other things in my life.
It’s so convenient to only take the good. It’s easy to know that God is good when He so blatantly is. It’s comfortable to even then place doubt over faith and trust. But it’s a lot harder to change your perspective.
It’s hard to accept the bad. It’s hard to believe God is good when things are falling apart. And it’s really uncomfortable to trust that God knows what He’s doing when it surpasses my human understanding.
But I think there’s a valuable lesson to be learnt here, one that God’s definitely been teaching me in the past week. And it comes straight from Job himself:
“You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” (2v10)
I think it’s so easy to question God when the nitty gritty of life happens. It’s easier to ask “God where the hell are you?” Than to say, “In all my misunderstanding, my lack of knowledge, and complete humanity, I choose to trust you, Jesus, and your perfect will and plan.” Because there are a lot of things we can use to justify:
Maybe it wasn’t God’s will, but Satan’s test.
We could have gotten there faster, then this wouldn’t have happened.
Indeed, we decide, in our pride, to take the situation into our own hands. But God knows all along. There’s a poem called “The Weaver” and one of the lines says something like, “I forget He sees the upper/ And I the underside” And I think it’s so true. We too easily forget that we only see this awful, ugly, cross threaded mess, but God sees the beautiful tapestry on top. He works all things for our good, (Romans 8:28) and He uses our experiences to build our dependency on Him. Because of this I was able to fully turn to God for comfort, for answers, for innumerous questions. I was without outward communication of any kind. I couldn’t run to my mom, my best friends, food, or movies. I couldn’t numb my mind and not think about what was happening. God placed me in a position of complete surrender and dependency.
Looking back now, even though it was probably one of the hardest weeks of my entire life, I see God’s hand so clearly in it. And I know that through this suffering He has strengthened my character and has started to prepare me for things to come. I now can say that it truly is an honor to serve God in hard times and easy times. In times of pain and in times of joy. And like Job I now know how to say, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away, Blessed be the name of the Lord.” (1v21)
God uses all kinds of things to chasten us. Some things are really hard, and some things are a lot easier. Sometimes it feels like we’re climbing up a mountain for ages, and other times it seems like the valley goes on forever. Wherever we are, we must always remember, God is right there with us. That’s why one of His many names is “Immanuel.” So wherever you are today, whatever you’re feeling, whatever thoughts you’re thinking, take a deep breath and rest in the fact that God is right there with you. He knows your pain, He knows your thoughts, He knows your heart. Rest in the fact that we have an awesome God, who even in seeming darkness works all things together for our good.
"When hard times come and you're crying out to God, 'Where are you?' Remember that the teacher is always quietest during the test."
-Anonymous
