Needed Gifts

I am learning to accept what God gives as the gift I need.  Jesus is quoted in Matthew 7 saying all we need to do is ask and he will give us what we need.  He asked “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?”  Most days we ask for our daily bread and His answers make sense.  Occasionally, we ask Him for bread and His answers defy earthly logic.  They make us question His attention span or His commitment to our well-being.  One day you will ask God for bread and His hand will open to reveal what looks to you like a snake. Accept it as the gift you need.  The snake may be failure, or illness, or disappointment, or a challenge that seems insurmountable.  Take it; it’s what you need for your growth and His glory. Believe that He is a loving Father; acceptance is a response that looks beyond my limited perspective and trusts His character.

The truth is that He doesn’t cause all these rocks and snakes in our lives.  They may results from a glitch in genetics, other people’s sin, our own bad choices, or the random undeserved consequences of living in a broken world.  The painful bottom line is that an all knowing, loving, and powerful God allows these rocks and snakes into your life.  Will we accept it as a gift so that he can use to build maturity? 

I usually hold out as long as I can.  I like to protest Gods use of trials in my life as I am opposed to His reliance on this teaching method.  This is not working out well for me so far.  I have offered to obey up front, with sufficient notice, so as to avoid the trial altogether.  This method has enjoyed limited success as it seems there are some things that can only be learned in the company of pain.

I had a glimpse of this truth when my daughter was suffering from a life threatening disease and spent eight days in the hospital.  My wife takes unscheduled naps at the sight of blood so while she sat dutifully at Alyn’s bedside dad did the “wet work”.  I held her angry little self while all manner of medical personnel inserted needles, tubes, and foul tasting stuff into her body.  She didn’t understand that all these painful invasions were necessary to keep her alive.  She just looked at me with red rimmed eyes and begged me to take her home.

By the sixth night it was clear that she would survive.  She and Elaine slept fitfully as I prayed with selfish urgency that we could all go home soon.  For six days and nights I had restrained her while others hurt her, and she still looked at me with trust in her tired and angry eyes.  I knew it would not last.  It was only a matter of time before she looked at me with distrust.  With three-in-the-morning clarity it struck me that Alyn’s faith was much bigger than mine.  I looked at my heavenly Father with distrust every day because I didn’t see how the painful and inconvenient things in my life, the rocks and snakes, could possibly be the fastest safest way home.  That was the moment I chose to trust Him because I don’t understand Him.  He is an infinitely bigger, smarter, wiser, and more compassionate daddy that I.  I choose to trust Him.