He didn’t smoke his lungs into oblivion, or drink his liver away, or lay in the sun until his skin was crispy.
He didn’t have an affair, or do drugs, or get tattoos from risky establishments.
He got poked by needle. Shoved in a restroom stall by some miserable, knowing human being.
Life isn’t fair.
I guess that’s the bottom line. People expect blessings and justice from an awesome God.
And yes, He is awesome. And yes, He gives blessings, and, yes, at the end of time, justice will be doled out.
And yes, life isn’t fair and He allows it. And so I come back to the verse “and if not, He is still good”
I picture my dad with high energy, pestering, playing basketball every night. I realize that hasn’t been reality in a long time.
And yet I know one day he’ll be high energy again, pestering holiness, playing basketball gilded in gold.
And that’s our promise. That’s the eternal. That’s what makes an unfair, hard life tolerable. An unbelievable God with a plan that passes our understanding
And maybe the high energy dad is gone for awhile. But he’s still the one who sees me best. Who makes me feel prettiest, who sees through my bravado and wraps me in arms stronger than any hardship I’m having. He’s still the one who can fix any thing broken and answer any question.
And I distinctly remember him turning around the car on work trips, even when I was too old to be acting up, and coming home for one more hug. And he’s still the one who turns around the car because I just need another hug.
And sometimes I’m mad and sad and bewildered at God’s good and right and hard and barely palatable plan.
And that’s ok.