reflections on a life unlived
Five years ago today I walked into the OB’s office with my 38 week pregnant wife, just as we had the week before, glowing with the expectation of our little girl’s arrival in 2 short weeks. Following the same routine as in our other visits, we were soon sent to a room for a simple checkup. It did not take long however to realize that something was wrong. The doctor struggled to find a heart beat across my wife’s abdomen. His look of concern told us a story we did not want to hear. There was no heartbeat. Our little one had been ushered into the arms of her Lord without the experiences of life on this earth.
Her death meant a death to our hopes and dreams, our plans and expectations. It also meant a death to my naive optimism and dimwitted theology of cheery colors and happy endings. I can no longer stomach the “Everything happens for a reason” platitude placed ever before me nor the oversimplistic “promises” of God merely needing to be “claimed”.
It made way for something deeper, something truer, something which encapsulates the whole of human experience in a life lived for God without expectations, something that understands faith means trust more than belief. So forgive me if I tell you that God can heal you but he may not, that God can bless you but those blessings may not be what you want, that your faithfulness maybe rewarded in the way Jeremiah’s was. I’d be lying if I said there was no suffering for the righteous, no pain for the innocent, no broken hearts for those wholeheartedly committed, no dreams shattered for the one clinging to a vision of God from days past. Some day all you may have left is faith, hope, and love. Perhaps you won’t listen. Perhaps you’re comfortable listening to the lies of a religion selling itself to you as comfort and happiness. But I hope today you’ll be willing to listen to all of what God has to offer in this very real life. Hope for the future, trust for today, love for all time.
