The Reasons Why

Machines hum in the background, the tv’s turned low, some cooking show, she’s watching, even though she hasn’t eaten food in a week.  Tubes and wires connect her to the fluids that are keeping the pain manageable.  They talk about things like Jesus and heaven and all the things you talk about before someone leaves this life.  “Are you scared”, the daughter asks her mom. 

Tears that stay right under the surface of the smiles and assurances that everything is ok come flooding down her puffy cheeks and mirror the ones pooling in the eyes of her daughter.  Of course, she’s scared. They are both terrified.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Life was just beginning to make sense.  There were grandkids to enjoy and holidays for making memories.  There was Taco Tuesday, little league football games, babies to meet and an adult mom/daughter friendship with many years left to grow.  There were shopping trips left, there were awards ceremonies to cheer at, there were little people to laugh at and a daughter who needed a mom. 

A daughter who needed a mom.  A daughter who prayed fervently for her mother not to leave.  A daughter who wasn’t ready for the end.  A daughter who lost faith as she sat on that bedside knowing this was the end.  God would not answer her prayer for healing.  She would see no miracle.

Sitting at the bedside, holding her hand, and waiting for those final moments to pass, she felt a crack in her soul.  She said all the right things… that people needed to hear like, “she’s in a better place” and “she’s not in pain anymore”, she accepted the hugs and the comfort that other people needed to give to make themselves feel better.  She smiled at the funeral and squeezed hands and tried to make everyone else feel comfortable in her presence.

She went on with life, trying the best she could to not allow her pain to mess up other people’s lives.  When people asked how she was, she gave the standard answers that made them feel better.  She tried not to have bad days that would affect her kids and she tried to pretend that everything was ok.  She tried to believe that heaven was better for her mom and that she was happy, but the truth was she didn’t.

The truth was she was angry. The day she realized her mom was never getting better something broke inside her.  The day that she realized God was not going to heal her mom, everything changed. 

He could no longer be trusted with the things she loved.  She had prayed and begged and pleading for healing that didn’t come, and He had been silent.  Her faith in a good, loving Father evaporated.  Oh, she still went along like she believed it all, and maybe she even lied to herself, but her faith was shattered that day. 

People noticed that something was different, but they really couldn’t put a finger on it.  She wasn’t herself anymore, and that bothered a few, but no one could have known the depths of her despair.  They couldn’t know how betrayed she felt. They couldn’t have known how angry she was.  They couldn’t have known how much of her time she spent wanting her mom back and how cheated she felt. 

They couldn’t have known that she felt like God owed her, because he had already taken one mom from her when she was only a baby, too young to remember her.  No one knew that she felt like he had betrayed her twice and now she lived in constant fear that He would take someone else away that she loved. 

She kept all that to herself, because people can’t handle the pain in another person’s heart.  For years she pretended.  She went to church, she read her Bible, she prayed, but the anger and the hurt and the betrayal lingered under the surface contaminating everything in her life.  Her marriage suffered, her friendships suffered, her children suffered because the fear that was ruling her could only damage and lash out.  She couldn’t take it out on God, so she took it out on everyone else. 

She could no longer trust Him, so she couldn’t trust anyone else.  Security, peace, hope, and joy were replaced by fear, rage, and hopelessness.   Eventually, rage turned into unbelief…  she no longer believed that God was good and that He could be trusted.  Nothing made sense anymore and if she'd had no children to worry about she would have left her Christian faith far behind. 

I still don’t understand.  I still look out at my children playing with their cousins and I long for her.  I long to see the tranquil look on her beautiful face as she takes in the chaos.  I still long for her kiss on my cheek and the love in her eyes as she enjoyed watching her rebellious teenagers morph into competent, responsible adults.  I miss her voice.  Christmas has lost a little magic, because she’s not here.  I think of her every day, all day and I still cry, because it hurts worse now than it did that day I stood beside her casket. 

I still don’t understand why.  But, through the haze of rage and fear, Jesus NEVER once left my side.  He allowed me to cry when no one else could handle it.  He allowed me to question and to argue.  He allowed me to doubt.  He comforted me like only He can. 

One day not long after my mom passed away, I had stopped praying and reading the Bible, but for school each day my beginning readers would read a chapter to me.  That day both read the same story out of different books.  The first time I didn’t pay any attention, I was distracted and just wanted to get this over with.  You know how it is when you have kids learning how to read… the sounding out words is almost worse than a needle in your eye. 

The next one snuggled up beside me and starts reading and instantly my attention turns to what he is reading.  I know they are in different books and some may call this a coincidence, but I knew in that moment what I hadn’t gotten before the Spirit of God wanted me to understand now. So, I listened a little closer.  After the reading session was over I took my bible in my room and fell on the floor and prayed.  What are you trying to say, Lord? 

This is the story I heard that day and this is the story I read today and the one that I’ve read hundred times in the last 6 years.  This is the story that pierces my soul every time I hear it, and this is the story that brought me back to faith in a good God, who loves me and even when I can’t understand He can be trusted. 

“Just then, a man name Jairus came.  He was a leader of the synagogue.  He fell down at Jesus’s feet and pleaded with him to come to his house, because he had an only daughter about 12 years old, and she was dying.”

While Jesus was going with Jairus to heal his daughter, a woman came and touched his robe and she was healed of a blood disease she had had for 12 years.  During the commotion that followed Jairus’s daughter died.  His servants came to him and said, “Don’t bother the Master anymore, your daughter is dead.”

When Jesus heard this, the Bible says He turned to Jairus and said, “Don’t be afraid, Only believe, and she will be saved.” Luke 8:50

I can see Jesus with fire in His eyes willing Jairus to believe.  Willing him to hold on to that little spark of faith that had compelled him to seek Jesus out in the first place.  I can see Jesus holding his gaze and convincing Jairus that He really did have the power to raise the dead. 

I can see Jesus turn to me again and again as we walk to our destination and say I KNOW what you see.  I know it’s hard to believe.  I know you are afraid and I know you are sad, but JUST BELIEVE.  I can see Jesus put His arm around me and reassure me that everything is going to be ok. 

No, He didn’t answer my prayer.  No, my mom didn’t get healed (on this side anyway), no she’s not here, BUT if I just keep on believing I’m going to see her again someday.  

I know my mom would be begging me, if she could, to not be afraid.  She would say, “Angela follow Him, believe Him and you will see miracles.” 

My reasons why I have struggled over the years to follow Jesus are my own, but you have them too.  I see it in many Christians I know…  we all have our reasons why we stopped believing.  We all have our reasons why we started playing church instead of walking on water.  We’re afraid to get hurt, we’re afraid to believe again.

Fear permeates everything in our life and instead of joy we are bitter, instead of peace we are control-freaks.   Instead of love we feel empty.  Somewhere along the way, we stopped believing, BUT Jesus is turning to us today and saying, “Don’t be afraid, just believe…”