Fides Quaerens Intellectum

The past two weeks have been gloomy, the sky pouring down more rain than we have had in years. It's been cold for June, and to be honest I almost forgot that summer is already here. It's as if the skies simply knew that they needed to adjust themselves accordingly- as if creation has been groaning along with us since last Monday.


On Monday the 13th we found out that our friend Alissa has breast cancer. It has shaken us deeply, and broken our hearts a million times over. In all her beauty, and love, and joy, and servanthood, and passion for caring for the broken... it is beyond my understanding to even try to comprehend the question of "why?". 


I know that Jesus is good. I know that He is sovereign. And yet we stand in this mysterious middle ground- crushed- waiting to see Him show up, but having no answers as to how it all fits together. We don't get it and we may never, but it has been the most strikingly beautiful thing to watch her and her husband cling on to Jesus in faith even when (now more than ever) nothing makes sense.

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The skies have been to me not only a reflection of the sadness of this time, but also a reminder of the hope that we can hold onto. Between the long stretches of dark skies and downpour, the sun has broken through and given us moments of respite, (almost magically) bringing the whole world back to life again. In the warmth of it's rays, I've seen the grass sprout up and the buds blossom, more full and beautiful because of the rain they endured. Now I dare not say that this situation will "blossom" in any earthly sense- for I do not know that. I do not know if she will get better, and do not know if we will all be okay. I hope and pray that it will, but He has never promised such a thing. What I do know is that we have this beautiful promise of eternal hope- of a time when "he will dwell with us. We will be his people, and God himself will be with us and be our God.  He will wipe every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things will pass away.” (Rev 21:3-4). We have promises about his goodness- that amidst the sadness and chaos of this disease, He will be a God of redemption who is at work for good and not for evil (Romans 8). And oh how sweet it is to remember that we serve a God who weeps as we do (John 11:35), even though His understanding is infinite.


This week was awful. And yet God has shown up through His promises of faithfulness. He has shown up through the joy and peace that he has brought amidst suffering. He has shown up in the community of believers we have watched rally around our friends to weep alongside them (Romans 12:15). Yes- even in the gloomiest of weeks there have been moments where the light has come bursting through, reminding us that it will not always be this way.

Though the fig tree should not blossom 

And there be no fruit on the vines, 

Though the yield of the olive should fail 

And the fields produce no food, 

Though the flock should be cut off from the fold 

And there be no cattle in the stalls, 

Yet I will exult in the LORD, 

I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. 

The Lord GOD is my strength, 

And He has made my feet like hinds’ feet, 

And makes me walk on my high places.

- Habakkuk 3:17-19

Lord Jesus I pray that you would continue to show us your goodness. In a time of such unbelievable sadness and confusion we are so desperately in need of You. Thankyou that you are the God of all comfort, gracious and compassionate, full of understanding, rich in love. Thankyou that in the end YOU WIN- that you have already conquered satan, sin, and death and that we can hold on to the hope that you will one day make all things new. But Lord you are the God who heals- the only one who can- and I pray that you would. Please heal our friend- please... 

I acknowledge, though... we acknowledge... that even in the darkness you are still God, and we will rejoice in you.