Throughout Scripture, God reveals Himself as one who takes care of the welfare of people- those who are downtrodden and needy.  He is one who knows and fills the needs of the people, who enriches the lives of human beings and helps those who are under unfortunate circumstances. The long list in Psalm 146 describes God as one who upholds the cause of the oppressed, gives food to the hungry, sets prisoners free, gives sight to the blind, lifts up those who are bowed down, watches over the foreigner, and provides for the orphan and the widow. All included in this list are those who are lacking, those who are desperately in need of something that would help them live a more fulfilling life.  The Bible is not shy about God filling immediate, real needs. Fortunately for us, it does not just promise ethereal answers to real physical problems; it does not promise solutions that only come in the life to come and do not meet the needs of the people now. God does indeed set prisoners free. He does make the barren woman fertile. God does grant us victory over the enemy army that is coming to destroy us.  God does indeed raise the dead. Although He is not a fix-all, cosmic vending machine, He does indeed resolve the root issues of our problems and presents Himself as the solution to our problems.

If this is so it is fair to ask the question, “What is the difference between a cosmic vending machine and God?” All of us would have to admit that often times we make God out to be a cosmic vending machine in the way we relate to Him regarding our prayers. We would prefer to deal with an automaton that is predictable and gives us exactly what we want rather than deal with a sovereign, almighty Creator of the universe with His own mind, will and emotions; the latter is much more complicated and difficult. The vending machine lacks such devices. Basically the vending machine has no say or control over what we get out of it. It has to give us exactly what we decide for it to give. On the other hand, we cannot control God. God does whatever He wants. Unlike the vending machine, God often times gives us what is far better than what we desperately want, even to our dismay, because He is our loving Father. Moreover He has the authority to say no when we ask of Him things that are unnecessary or that will harm us. This is because through the cross, we have stepped into a relationship of love with Him that can never be broken. God has the sovereignty to not act as we request, plead, and sometimes command Him to do, because He is God and our loving Father. Moreover He has the authority to say “Not yet.” Perhaps what is most difficult for us is to wait on the promises of God. The reason for the delay may be that we are still immature in our faith and character to receive our answers or that other spiritual logistics has yet to be worked out. Whatever the reason God has the sovereignty to act as He pleases when we pray to Him. And however the response, we can trust that God wants and is acting for our best in His response to our prayers. There is no room for such a relationship with a vending machine. There is no surrender or obedience, communion or fellowship with an automatic gift dispenser. In our relationship with God the basis is always trust. Regardless of how God answers our prayers, we must trust God. We must always look upon Him with the basis of trust in Him. There is no trust in our dealing with a cosmic vending machine; we only take as we want. There are no such things as a maturing of faith, or the deepening of relationship. In contrast, in between us and God, whenever we pray, it is an opportunity for our relationship with God to be strengthened and matured.
Perhaps what God sees and deems more important than merely giving us whatever we want, is the relationship of trust between us and Him. Always the relationship comes before the answer to prayer. What God wants more than giving us or not giving us our answers to prayer  is to cultivate in us a certain attitude towards Him regardless of whether  He gives us what we want or not. Will our relationship with God still be solid even if our prayers seem to go unanswered? Will we continue to love God even if we do not get what we want? Will we continue to trust Him when our loved ones die of cancer, when our finances hit rock bottom, when our lives are falling apart? God will allow us to be tested and allow everything that can be shaken to be shaken so that what cannot be shaken will remain standing. If that is true, then what should hold more weight to us is not whether our prayers get answered but whether we trust in God or not. What takes precedent is our relationship with God. If indeed we receive what we’ve asked from Him but are pulled further away from Him in the process nothing could be a greater misfortune.

This means that our relationship with God, one as between Bride and Groom, one that is careful not to grieve the Holy Spirit, walking such a narrow path of faith should be our greatest focus and not on whether we get what we want from God through our prayers. What is of importance is whether we can continue to quietly trust God however our lives pan out. Are we living each day trusting all the more in God’s love and experiencing His power in our lives? If not it may be that we are focused more on getting what we want from God rather than on God Himself. In that case what we desperately want could become our idol.

God desires to give us our heart’s desire. What parent will withhold a good gift from their child if it is good for them? God is not some mean parent that purposefully withholds something good from us in order to cause misery. There is even a promise in Scripture, “Take delight in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4). Yet there is a catch to that phrase. First comes the delighting part; we are to find everything we need in Him and delight ourselves in Him. This is a precedent. Then comes the fulfillment of our desires, our answers to prayer. The relationship always comes first.

 

 

Here are excerpts from Philip Yancey’s Book “Where is God when it Hurts?” that seems to answer aptly the problem of suffering in this world:

Some agnostics who can’t understand why God allows suffering begin by assuming that man is a fully formed creature who needs a suitable home. Therefore, they demand a pain-free world for mature man to roam. Instead, God is dealing with incomplete creatures. Earth’s environment should foster the process of “soul-making” in which free beings choose to become children of God. Our world’s rough edges allow this process of grappling and confrontation.

(Yancey has taken the following section from John Hick’s “Philosophy of Religion”)

Suppose, contrary to fact, that this world were a paradise from which all possibility of pain and suffering were excluded. The consequences would be very far-reaching. For example, no one could ever injure anyone else: the murderer’s knife would turn to paper or his bullets to thin air; the bank safe, robbed of a million dollars, would miraculously become filled with another million dollars; fraud, deceit, conspiracy, and treason would somehow always leave the fabric of society undamaged. Again, no one would ever be injured by accident: the mountain-climber, steeplejack, or playing child falling from a height would float unharmed to the ground; the reckless driver would never meet with disaster. There would be no need to work; there would be no call to be concerned for others in time of need or danger, for in such a world there could be no real needs or dangers.

To make possible this continual series of individual adjustments, nature would have to work “special providences” instead of running according to general laws which men must learn to respect on penalty of pain or death. The laws of nature would have to be extremely flexible: sometimes gravity would operate, sometimes not; sometimes an object would be hard and solid, sometimes soft……

One can at least begin to imagine such a world. It is evident that our present ethical concepts would have no meaning in it. If for example, the notion of harming someone is an essential element in the concept of wrong action, in our hedonistic paradise there could be no wrong actions—nor any right actions in distinction from wrong. Courage and fortitude would have no point in an environment in which there is, by definition, no danger or difficulty. Generosity, kindness, the gape aspect of love, prudence, unselfishness, and all other ethical notions which presuppose life in a stable environment, could not even be formed. Consequently, such a world, however well it might promote pleasure, would be very ill adapted for the development of the moral qualities of human personality. In relation to this purpose it would be the worst of all possible worlds.

It would seem, then, that an environment intended to make possible the growth in free beings of the finest characteristics of personal life, must have a good deal in common with our present world. It must operate according to general and dependable laws; and it must involve real dangers, difficulties, problems, obstacles, and possibilities of pain, failure, sorrow, frustration, and defeat. If it did not contain the particular trials and perils which—subtracting man’s own very considerable contribution– our world contains it would have to contain others instead.

To realize this is… to understand that this world, with all its “heartaches and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,” an environment so manifestly not designed for the maximization of human pleasure and the minimization of human pain, may be rather well adapted to the quite different purpose of “soul-making”.

In some ways it would be easier for God to step in, to have faith for us, to help us in extraordinary ways. But he has instead chosen to stand before us, arms extended, while he asks us to walk, to participate in our own soul-making. That process always involves struggle, and often involves suffering.

6am. Hurrying up to finish the laundry
before packing up to board the train at Union Station.
I rush with a slight headache,
 lost and in jumbles to find the parking lot
and the Amtrak boarding area.  
A ticket to Seattle on hand
in the hopes of losing myself
and all that I stand for
for something new.

Vast landscapes of green,
gray clouds cover the view from the train window
and mirrors the way that I’m feeling inside.
We run through dark tunnels
that open up to green misty forests.

Seattle. As I rush into the taxi cab
I finally remember to take a breath
after hours of traveling on the train
full of strangers and mediocre train food.
I’m surprised by a text from my roommate
asking if I’m still alive.  
It is on the road, in strange lands
that we understand the true value of friendships.
Through all the beautiful buildings,
beaches, busy markets, foods,
sight and sounds, I finally find
that what I’m seeking is not a new place,
but people;
I long to experience life
through being connected to the lives of others.

After three days, this journey to find myself is cut short.
I’m heading back to find my home welcome me back,
my old friends gladder to see me,
and myself full of stories to share
which are not stories at all
but excuses that allow for deeper connection with others.  

I’ve started this trip to run away from God,
my life, everything that was my past.
I found everything I’ve experienced to be amusing, liberating,
the silence and loneliness bearable and pleasant
because of my freedom.
Music colored my silent spaces
with Dylan and his folk guitar.
Finding jewels of the distant past in old
record and book shops
was a sanctuary for my soul where I emerged energized.
Yet I soon found that these experiences I was seeking were empty,
empty of life and of God.

Have I come to the answer too soon?
People search all their lives
for the meaning of life and never find it.
It seems that my faith has led me to a barebones,
stripped naked understanding of the world;
starting in my twenties I began to see the world
in such black and white tones
that there was no longer any mystery left to life.
I’ve given myself over to this Truth, my years, my youth.
And now I’m left depleted and angry
that somewhere along the road,
my dreams have died with me.
I wish to start afresh with a blank slate
as to abandon everything I know about God, life, and love
to find beauty all over again out of the rubble.
Where can I go to find myself again?
Who will I turn to to guide me and play the sage,
the Jedi in the quest to find myself?

At the end of my trip
I still remain without answers.
Clues and keys to open the next phases of my life
remain undiscovered.  
I am
unchanged.

What was I expecting?
Some drastic change?
A mysterious encounter?
An epiphany?
I’m still the same person
with the same wounds, baggage,
past memories and dreams
with a big vast world ahead of me.
I return home.

In that city seen only through the eyes of child
far above the ordinary lives of earth
where crystal seas line before the throne of grace
and rivers of life flow through its city streets,
people of every color and nation
and children sing in unison
of their eternal redemption.
Each day the angels take the leaves of the tree of life
and make medicine and tea out of them.
There are those who carry a pain so great
from their lives on earth;
they need eternity to heal them of their wounds.
They receive special care from the angels,
and Jesus visits them quite often.
When they are healed,
they are led into the Presence of the Almighty,
to spend eternity drowning
in His blue ocean of peace
that is His heart.
That is where I long to be.

Starting anew in a junk of a car
full of bare necessities,
moving cross country across America.
Where I am headed I don’t know.
Through hills and oceans,
cityscapes, slums,
where the sun beats down the desert land,
through green forests.
Tennessee Memphis perhaps.
That’s where my folks are.
I heard the place is full of trees and greenery,
toads and ponds.
I think I would appreciate being away from the big city for a while.
Perhaps the city of the King
will indeed be a surprise sanctuary for me.
I dunno.
I only dream of healing, restoration,
green trees and tea,
sweet breezes and new loves,
lots of new canvases and painted old ones,
stories to keep me alive
and keep others listening through the midnight,
songs to be birthed out of my belly and guitar.

Like a clean slate, I start anew
with a new me.  
Forget about who I was before.
Even the good things sometimes you have to trash
in order to step into the new.
Like a man buried in the grave
and in three days to rise again,
my past has been buried with all of its
cross carrying labors of love.
I will find new wings to carry me
into the new future
where nothing awaits me
but Your promises written in these sacred pages.

I prefer it that way
that I may lose myself completely.
What remains of the past to be erased forever.
I look for a new hat to wear,
a new look and hairdo for a new place.
I only have with me the residue of pain, blood, and spit,
what remains of my sanity, and my eyes.
My eyes to see the world as You see them.
Beauty, pain, loves, children and young people.
My eyes to translate the world around me
into something worthwhile,
my heart that feels with aching and love
like a woman in labor,
the violence and the chaos around me
into a song of beauty.

I would prefer to resign,
resign into your arms,
into my resting place,
full of white and lights
where only love dwells.
When I close my eyes I see You
and Your kingdom,
children dancing,
wide open fields and wild horses running.
Yet when I open them, I come back to where
nothing is solved and the residues of pain remains.
That is why I write, paint and draw,
to keep a connection to that invisible place
where no moth nor rust destroys.
It is into your beauty I resign,
where my past is eradicated into nothingness.
Every cell of my body disappears
into your perfect love.
I’m nothing.
You are everything.

I do not know where to turn.
All my desires starve
locked up in prison,
torn in pieces by the violence of jackals.
My mind refuses to rest
like a train without breaks
or a broken jack in the box
that will not shut up.
At night I stretch out my untiring hands.
In the midst of it all
Your voice is Spirit and life,
a glimmer of light that cracks open the midnight.
And I rest for a moment.
The terror of night is stilled.
And I am able to believe
the daylight is soon to come.

When I’m surrounded by lions
And the only light I see is the night
Your hand grasps onto mine
and you speak tenderly to me.
Though the darkness surrounds me,
You say that you are here
and that you’ll never leave.
This is love stronger than death.  

I close my eyes and imagine
what would be better,
what would be better than now.
Peace like the blue ocean,
seagulls and white,
white linen and baby’s blue eyes,
warmth of the sun shining down upon couples,
the ways of a child with their parent,
walking hand in hand.
With a child’s eyes I view the world and my future.
In my dreams, I am able to fly through the skies
with You and other children like me in white clothes
leaving a trail of gold dust wherever we go.

Up through the clouds,
above the cities and villages of earthly denizens,
in the kingdom of clouds and sunlight.
In the distance we see a castle sitting atop clouds
seen only through the eyes of a child,
made of crystal and radiant light.
As we approach we hear melodies of flute
and singing, voices from a far,
choruses of people, multitudes
singing songs of joy overflowing,
sounds of waterfalls and deer galloping
and wild horses running through the plains.

My voice echoes to seek out the One my heart longs for.
Amidst the beauty and majesty of this place,
my song rises through its city corners, roads, and highways,
to reach His temple,  into the very heart of God.
And He answers, “Here I am. Do not be afraid.
My love is with you forever and always.”
And I am transported immediately
into His Presence, as a 9 year old child
full of love and adoration for Papa.
And nothing else matters
except to be lost in His arms.