Let me start out by saying that I believe in an activist God. I always have, and I always will. My struggles of late have tested my belief in this area sorely. I have determined that it’s easy to espouse a belief in an activist deity when things are going well. It’s easy to believe in a God that’s actively involved in the affairs of men, when one is gainfully employed, the bills are paid, and things are going pretty much according to your plan. But that as I have come to find out over the last few months is faith not based upon anything but a theoretical understanding of God. It’s easy to look at the Bible, see God at work there, and say that example exposits an activist God.
The last few months of my life have been a transition from a theoretical understanding of this principle of the activist God to a more genuine understanding of this principle. I don’t say that as a point of pride, or as something of which I am proud. I didn’t set out to end up here, and I certainly wouldn’t have chosen to come here, but I am here nonetheless. The transition from theoretical to practical can be summed up in a single word, uncertainty. A life in which the things that were certain before become uncertain now, is the definition for this.
Before this period began, I could say with some measure of confidence what the immediate future held. I could say that our bills were going to be met without difficulty. I could say that our healthcare was assured. I could say that I was a valued member of a team that made a difference in state government. Today, none of that is true by default. Each day carries with it a direct measure of uncertainty. Today, and every day since this period began I am forced to confront the uncertainty that is incumbent in this situation armed only with the convictions of my faith.
I enter each day and have to reaffirm my faith that God is my provider, and that he cares for me and those he has entrusted to my care. Each day I have to believe that this activist God has a plan, and that his plan is what is best for me. Each day I have to accept, sometimes grudgingly and sometimes not, that God’s timing is perfect and that my timing isn’t his. I have to dwell in the moment, and know that the God of Genesis 1:1 is working on my behalf for my best end, and I have to accept that no other end than this is what’s best.
Some days, like today, I find myself struggling with what God has promised and his timeline for fulfilling that promise. I find myself, not unlike Sarah in the Old Testament, wondering when God is going to fulfill his word. I find myself wondering about my value before and to this activist God. And sometimes, I wonder if my prayers are breaking through the ceiling at all. And on my worst days, I wonder if God has forgotten my number.
And so it is on my worst days, like today, I have to struggle to believe in the activist God. I have to struggle to believe that the God of the Bible still works that way today. I have to struggle to believe in anything at all for that matter. In a situation that from the outside looks bad trending worse, I worry, and I fear that it will never get better. And the sum of those worries and fears become a smothering flood that threatens to drown me.
In the midst of those days, my solace, my comfort, my guide has become the knowledge that what I am experiencing is not uncommon to the human condition, and the human experience. People before me have suffered this, and people after me will suffer this. I have to recognize that this is a time in the crucible of life. I am being exposed to intense heat right now; my distaste for this status quo notwithstanding. I have to recognize the value of this time. I have to somehow; as the writer of the book of James puts it, rejoice when I fall into trouble of various kinds.
And it has been in finding the joys of this time in the crucible that I have found relief from my fears and my worries. It has been in being reminded of all that I have and how dear those things are to me, that the flood is swept away. It is in participating in the simple joys of family life, that all that weighs upon me is relieved. It is in watching my children find joy in playing cards, or watching a movie, or riding their bikes and scooters that I realize that things aren’t so bad. It is in realizing what a wonderful woman I am married to, that I find the man I was meant to be. It is the journey to becoming this man that God deemed it important to bring this time of woe upon me. This activist God led me to this place. And this activist God has deemed it important that I dwell here for a time, the exact duration of my stay is as yet undetermined.
I have found my place in the domicile that God has built up around me, and I relish it. I have become actively involved in it, and it is a wonderful thing. I have my good days, and my bad ones, but I love it for what it is. And in all honesty, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Writer Clark D. Goble started this blog as a means to chronicle his imperfect walk with a Perfect Savior and invites you to join in on the conversation. He also invites you to check out the links to his work. Most often, Clark writes about Jesus and theology. He also enjoys writing fiction in a variety of genres.
Todd French is an information technology professional and a resident of Columbus, Ohio; where he shares a humble abode with his darling wife and beautiful daughters. His interests run the gambit from reading voraciously all forms of fiction to rooting for the Cleveland Browns.