The LORD’S Response

The LORD’s Response

“Must God tailor His justice to our demands?”

Easy answer: No. But really, how often do we expect God give into our needs and wants? Why do we question the Lord instead of falling to our knees in worship?

I stand guilty.

Swaziland is a beautiful Kingdom nestled between South Africa and Mozambique. The way light hits the rolling hills, turning purple as the sun sets is beyond compare. Every day as we drive out of the city, I picture God’s hands forming the land, intricately designing the very trees we drive by, painting every leaf. I see His creativity in the shades of the vast African sky, in the shape of each cloud. My Father is a beautiful artist.

But beyond this glory is the desolation that lies just beyond the beauty. The statistics are shocking to my privileged American self, and my heart breaks for the Swazi people. 63% of people live below the poverty line which equates to existing on a few dollars a day, not at all what the U.S. standard is for poverty. Some studies say that the country will die out by 2050. 28% of people in Swaziland are affected by HIV/AIDS, that being the highest rate in the world. The disease and poverty leaves thousands of children orphaned, neglected, abandoned, abused, and often times, at the very least, hungry for attention.

This is when it becomes easy and almost natural to blame God, to question the One who created this land in the first place. “God. Why do they have to suffer, for they’ve done nothing to deserve this?” The first couple of days at Bheveni Carepoint, this became a question I found myself asking frequently, most of the time unintentionally. I didn’t understand why the Almighty Creator would allow such despair be the underlying tone in much of the world. I failed to see any redemption. Instead, I looked on with a broken heart, frustrated because I couldn’t fix the circumstance of any person I met. The beauty of the landscape became ironic, as if the dark clouds laughed at the dry ground so thirsty for water. The mountains drew a stark contrast between beauty and despair, and the once hope-filled blue sky no longer resonated with my love for the God who painted it.

But then the Lord said,

“Were you there when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me Jacque, if you know so much. Who determined its dimensions and stretched out the surveying line? What supports its foundations, and who laid its cornerstone as the morning stars sand together and all the angels shouted for joy?”

And once again I am humbled. The Lord’s challenge to Job spoke directly to me in all of its poetic truth. I was not there when the foundations of the earth were laid. I am not the one who paints the sky every morning. I have not named every star, nor have I, with my own hands formed the hills upon which we travel every day. The bottom line is this: I am not God. I don’t need to know every secret of the universe, and I never will. So I find myself hugging kids with no shoes with the remains of their sticky meal of fortified rice still on their little hands and face. In chapter 40 of Job, my response becomes, “I am nothing. How could I ever find the answers? I will cover my mouth with my hand. I have said too much already. I have nothing more to say.”

Because, I truly have nothing to say to God that will help me understand why the people of Swaziland are suffering and why the rich become richer. I don’t know why. However, I do know that I am here serving a God who is just, a loving Father who only desires to comfort His children. He has His arms open, more than willing to redeem this land. I know that my God is good and someday will restore all. So I will cover my mouth with my hand, instead dancing in the splendor of the beauty and praising Him even when it is the least natural response.

“I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes.”

Written by: Jacque 

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