Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Risk (05/17/12)
TITLE: HARD TRUTHS AND EVEN HARDER QUESTIONS
By Graham Insley
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What if I end up looking like a fool? They donít even believe in Jesus now, after that wont it be even worse? People will laugh or scorn, what would I do then? Do I want to be responsible for giving them a false hope that is dashed to pieces later? Wouldnít it just sound like platitudes in a moment of needing so much more than mere religious babbling? Am I afraid for them, or is that just an excuse to cover up the fact that Iím really terrified for myself? And what will happen to my faith if I do and it doesnít come true?
My wife does. She just went ahead and said it. Oh, she struggled for awhile. She chocked back so many tears. She let a heap of them flow too. She couldnít stop those. They just had to be released from a heart wrenched with struggle. She fought the fight; she plunged ahead into her Godly wrestling match and came up a winner. She battled fear and defeated torment and spoke in faith. And then she challenged every single thought that came against that well earned resting place.
What a woman of God!
Why canít I be like that? Why canít I be a man of God that my wife would be proud of? Instead I wallow, thatís right, roll around in the disgraceful mud of fear and refuse to simply trust. And then I feel guilty for beating myself up. And I feel a hypocrite, because everyone else sees me looking so strong but they have no idea of what rages inside. Iíve learnt that one so well too. Put forward the confident air of a man in control and no one will see what torments lie in the deepness of your heart. But itís too risky to do it any other way. Iíve been hurt too often. I donít know how to trust.
How can I trust a Father figure, even a Heavenly Father figure, when all they have ever done is hurt me and abuse me? Itís just too risky. I donít want to be let down any more. I canít handle the rejection and the self pity that sets in afterwards. Iíve had enough of putting my best foot forward just to have both feet swept from underneath me. God, why canít I be more like my wife?
She handles this so much better than me. She sees the same thing I see. Her eyes look upon the same child and see the same spectre of death that is attacking him. I look at the childís father and see his fears, grief and tears of pain. So does my wife. But she fights her fight of faith and speaks her victory audibly for all to hear; ďI know itís hard, but God has told me he will be alright.Ē I wince.
I ache to support her and in the end I do; but inside I still have so many questions.
But if God told her, and she couldnít speak this any other way, then who am I to question? Thatís our grandson lying there. Thatís our son being torn apart. She would have to be a demon to speak this if she didnít really believe it. And my wife is no demon; she is a mighty woman of God. And yet, even knowing her faith and trust in Abba, Iím still too afraid to trust. Itís just far too risky. I have to get this sorted or I will go insane.
ďFather... No. Dad. I need your help. Iím so afraid to trust you. What happens if You hurt me just like he did? What happens if You let me down just like he did? I so much want to learn to trust you. Oh Lord, I need a miracle for my grandson. But I need one for myself too. Help me, Dad, help me to really love and trust You. Be the loving father that I never had. Walk me through this shadow of death, this valley of torment, and heal my ravaged heart. Lead me into forgiving my earthly father and correct the distorted image he left behind. Please, be my Dad.Ē
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