Soaring and suffering

       I'll never forget last summer watching graceful hang gliders float over the edge of the continent.

Preyer was playing in a golf tournament outside of San Diego.   I watched him--my usual bundle of nerves somewhat lessened by the absolutely astounding beauty surrounding us at every turn.  The golf wasn't his best, but oh my, what a glorious trip we enjoyed that neither of us will ever forget.  Thank You, Lord Jesus, for the gift of those memories. 

But I often think back to the wonder of gazing at those colorful sails hanging in midair, gliding gently along the coastline.  One of my favorite pictures was of Preyer--in the middle of a challenging round--sitting on a bench and quietly enjoying their flight.   

        I've often thought of that image, for as calm and peaceful as it looks, all the days we observed the hang gliders sailing along were actually quite windy.  My thought (had I been crazy--or brave--enough to go hang gliding) would have been--no way, no how I'm going up there in this wind.  Are you kidding? Let's wait till everything calms down a bit...as in, let's wait till there's zero breezes.
       But here's the thing: if you want to soar, you need some wind.  No gusting breezes...no gliding above the tree tops.  No resistance from the wind...no reveling in the wonders of flight.
       Sure helps to remember that when we struggle with why God's allowing suffering in our lives or in the lives of those we love.  God has a plan and a purpose, and He will employ that sorrow in ways we cannot see and do not imagine: to lift us, change us, convict us, rouse us, and ultimately strengthen and use us in far-reaching ways and sometimes astounding ways.
       But it's hard.  Oh my, sometimes it's so hard.  We live on a broken planet, and this side of heaven we'll never understand all of God's sovereign, inscrutable ways.  "'For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are My ways your ways,' declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts." (Is.55:8-9)
       When we cannot understand His hand, we choose to trust His heart.
       Jon Bloom writes: "Much of the Christian life is spent trusting Jesus now and understanding Him later...God understands and is patient with our confusion and even our deep wrestling or grief.  But He wants us to trust Him and not grumble or question in disbelief. (Phi.2:14)...His purposes for bringing, or not bringing, certain things to pass often extend far beyond us--maybe even generations beyond us.  So during those times we need to remember Jesus' words to Peter: 'What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.'"
       All I know is that I've experienced firsthand how God uses our suffering and sorrow in manifold ways to deepen our compassion, expand our witness, sharpen our focus, and ultimately strengthen our faith.  As we look to Him in trust--even in the midst of painful circumstances we do not understand--He takes us to deeper and greater levels of intimacy and love.
       Flying needs resistance.  Soaring requires suffering.  And one glorious day, we'll understand fully...but for now, let's choose to trust in the One who loves us beyond all imagining.  After all, He's the One with the nail prints in His hands and your name engraved on His heart.
       To God be the glory.