Follow up on PUSH…

Vicariousliving brought up a question I thought was valid. “Would it have killed God to have told this poor guy WHY he was asking him to push?”

Personally, I don’t believe in blind faith. In fact, I think blind faith is a dangerous thing. If people follow someone blindly, then they are turning over their responsibility and their power to someone else. It requires a great deal of assuming. You are assuming the person in control is good…

Wow… did you see what I did?

You are assuming the person in control…

And that person isn’t you.

You are giving control over to someone else. Having said that, I believe giving control to God is not a bad thing. He’s bigger, smarter, and sees the whole picture. However, it also means I have to be willing to accept whatever is thrown my way. Not an easy decision. I only have to think of Job to find myself thinking twice. Even so, there have been enough incidents in my life where I felt God’s guiding hand, and His plan, in the end, was alway better than mine in more ways than I can count.

However, that doesn’t answer why God couldn’t tell the guy why he was to push.

Vicariousliving stated that they explained as much as possible to their son, which I think is awesome. It’s ridiculous to think children will reason things out, if we don’t bother to teach them how.

I went so far as to explain things to my dog. I couldn’t, in all honesty, be sure how much she understood, and I decided to error on the side of giving more information rather than less. What I observed is that she surprised me more than once in her understanding of a situation. It unnerved me and humbled me. I also discovered it changed our relationship. I became more patient, and she more willing to follow me. Explaining to her helped me clarify everything in my own mind. It gave me an opportunity to talk out loud, a technique I’ve found helpful when I’m feeling overwhelmed. When talking out loud, only one word comes out at a time, unlike thinking in my head when I’m bombarded by a bunch of different thoughts all at once. When my dog developed cancer, my vet suggested chemotherapy. I said, “No.” I informed him he would do the surgery to cut it out, and he would make sure he achieved free and clear margins, and that would be the end of it. Why? Because I knew there was no way I could explain to my innocent child why she had to go to the vet regularly, which terrorized her, and endure the poison of chemo, when I couldn’t possibly explain why making her feel so awful would be good for her. The vet tried to change my mind; I said, “No.” He achieved free and clear margins, and my baby ended up being a five-year cancer survivor, passing away from the complications of old age. I learned so much from her.

So why didn’t God tell the guy why?

There are a lot of possibilities. The first thing that came to mind was “Would he have believed God?” I was given the homework assignment from my counselor to watch “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” My cousin, who is older than I am, was visiting, helping to take care of my mom after a brief hospitalization. My counselor suggested my cousin watch it with me, so I’d have an “outsider’s” perspective. At the end of the movie, my cousin asked, “Why didn’t anyone warn him about Nurse Ratched?” I replied, “If I told anyone what my mother was like would they have believed me?” Her mouth dropped open, and she was appalled, because she realized she wouldn’t have believed it without seeing it herself.

My next thought was “Would he have understood?” Or would he have heard God’s explanation and in his lack of wisdom decided it wasn’t worth the time and effort? I mean, how often have I been told to exercise every day and eat right and my body will be healthier? I’m fast headed toward 50, and I’m only now beginning to grasp the concept, connect the dots, and make an honest effort to reduce stress, exercise daily, get adequate sleep, and lower my caloric intake.

Then there is the perspective that faith is itself a sort of muscle. It needs to be exercised in order to grow. One of my teachers, in trying to explain the ongoing importance of exercising faith, even once you “know” something came into class one day with a rat trap. The kind that’s a larger version of the typical mouse trap. He casually set it on his desk, and triggered it with a pencil, shattering the pencil. I tend to sit on the front row, so I’m not distracted by what others are doing around me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. He then reset it, and had one of the students volunteer to trigger it. One of the girls was volunteered by her friends. He promised she wouldn’t be hurt, over and over and over. It took her ten minutes to finally touch the trigger mechanism. Nothing happened, exactly as he had promised. He then showed how he hadn’t attached the triggering latch. It’s a tiny piece. Unless you know what to look for, you don’t know. So the trap looks set, but isn’t. He set it again, and walked over to me. He asked me to trigger the trap. Even though I had perfect knowledge the trap wasn’t set, I found myself needing to use faith to overcome the fear of that first snap.

God was asking much more than for him to develop his physical strength and stamina. He was asking, first and foremost, for him to grow his faith, so when the adversary came along to dissuade him and turn him aside, his faith was strong enough to overcome the fear of being shattered, to trust God to strengthen him and guide him to safety, the safe haven of God’s perfect love.

There are a lot of moments in life when God does not explain why things are, but His love is perfect. Because His love is perfect, He is able to lift a broken spirit like mine and heal it. The time it takes is not because He is punishing me, but because He wants me to understand, and sometimes it takes a long time to understand, so I am able to fully appreciate the gift.

When I had to put my horse down, ten years ago, it was devastating and yet not. Events led me to the realization that I needed to let him go. Horses, in my experience and that of my friends, have to be put down. So when you take on the responsibility of a horse, you are also accepting the responsibility of seeing it out to the end. Not an easy decision. I’d made the promise to my horse that I would be with him to the end. His health was failing, and I decided to put him down. It was peaceful, and beautiful, sharing his last breath. Then doubt crept in. Could he have lasted a little longer? Did I give more importance to the growing financial demands than to him? For four years, I struggled with the timing of my decision. Then I caught a special on television about how often owners don’t want to deal with putting down their horse down, so they send them off to market. By the time I was through watching the program, I thanked God for giving me the courage to make that painful decision and following through. Why couldn’t He have told me sooner? I wasn’t ready to hear it.

It’s been six years since I put my dog down. I’ve struggled, wondering if I shouldn’t have done it sooner or waited a little longer. With my horse, I asked him if he was ready to go Home, and the very clear sense was “Yes!” With my dog, I asked and asked and asked, and always the answer was “Soon, but not yet.” Occasionally, I would have the sense of “Maybe,” but never an absolute “Yes.” Even at the end, I had a sense of betrayal from her. She didn’t want to go, but she was so sick. I’m still not at peace with it. I’m not sure I ever will be. There are still times when I remember things that I wish with all my heart I could do differently, and find myself saying over and over “I’m sorry.” I miss her terribly. Do I want God’s loving comfort? Actually, no, I don’t. In fact, there are times when I’m still angry. God has everything, and now He has her, too. So, why do I still continue to hold to my faith? Because God is big enough and strong enough and wise enough to handle my anger without rancor or pettiness. He knows what He holds, and He knows my anger is my immature way of expressing how much I miss her. I think He’s okay with that. Time doesn’t mean anything to Him, so He’s more than willing to wait me out.

So why doesn’t God explain? Perhaps because sometimes there aren’t enough words.