When God is Good

{This piece was begun in December, and slowly... sporadically... I keep coming back to it; adding a bit more here, changing a bit there. Tossing words around, knowing that words cannot always clearly convey that which weighs deeply in a heart. This is such a learning process for me, this Trusting-God-In-Everything thing, and though I am choosing to share this (finally!) completed thought with you, please know that I know I do not have a complete understanding of His way in brokenness.... I am only beginning to grasp the beauty of it, and slowly... sporadically... moving one foot out to stand on bare and complete trust. Pray for me in this? He is good. He knows how to best teach each one of His children. Thank you for graciousness as I pour out my heart a bit...}



God is good -and we know it- when a father stands before the assembly Sunday morning and praises Him for His love and mercy in the healing of his only daughter.

We can't help but rejoice in the goodness and grace that overflows from our Father's heart when before our eyes she stands-

{this young woman whose body had been racked with seizures multiple times a day for the past two years... who had at one point lost the ability to eat or drink anything beyond a teaspoon of water a day for weeks... whose right eye had turned inward and refused to return it's normal, natural position}

-and verbally lifts His name high, praising Him for it all;
for the work He has done in her through it,

...and every wretched symptom is gone.

We know -in moments like these- that God is good and that His mercy endures forever.
We know without a doubt.

And God is still good when, sitting on that Central American porch in the evening light -with tears running down my cheeks-  I am told that the little girl I held and played with all afternoon really isn't loved by many in this world and does have HIV which, they say, causes AIDS and "... damages or destroys the cells of the immune system, leaving [her] unable to fight infections and certain cancers..."

God is still good.

We giggled and shot photos together... we got our fingernails painted yellow together... and decorated ourselves with Christmas stickers. She went from silent and expressionless to bouncy, chattering and full of smiles right before my eyes.

She is an orphan.

Her smile left her face again when we left her there on that sidewalk two hours later. My heart ripped when our truck pulled through those gates that shut her in and we drove away.

Even then when I stand helpless to fight the injustice, even there where children fall asleep every night without hugs and kisses and prayers; God is still good. And He is still on His throne...

...loving and creating and blessing and beautifying 

and showing Himself strong
on behalf of those who fear Him.

It's just that... that.... well, it's in these moments I have a harder time knowing that God is good.



In the middle of the dirt path that stretches through a little Honduran village held captive by witchcraft and VooDoo, I reach down and pick up a small piece of broken ceramic.
Visible evidence of the state of so many lives here.

Broken.

It's here that I watch the tears roll down the beautiful face of a young women as she remembers her husband who only recently left her and her five children to go and be with Jesus.
They suspect he was murdered for his faith.

This village... it is so dark.

She is my sister because we have the same Father. Her name is Dominga. It means "Belonging to God"... and any one who sees her knows that she does. In her I see this beautiful truth coming to life:

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
   He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart; 

 He gently leads those that have young.
 

And in the midst of all the brokenness of this place I see that -indeed-
God is still as good in this place as in any other.


I grasp to know... to truly believe and trust and live out in situations like these... that  
God. Is. Good.
Truly good and kind and wise.
Always.

{Why do we... why do I... always demand proof before I will believe?}

O me of little faith.



And then.....
I got a  text last week that broke my heart like few things do because it hit very close to home.
A dear friend just had her engagement called off.
My first silent question? 

"WHY?!!"

Why, God?? Why her? Why now? Why this.... Oh Jesus, why this??

And the Lord- ever so gently- took my mind that morning back to the simple truth.  

He is good.

Even when things get broken.

{Even when things get broken.}

Days go by... and then silently, with the dawning of the new year, as I am still pondering all these things, the following words float gently into my inbox.... a message from God to me for right now, written by one who also knows brokenness;

"....‘koinonia,’ it means sharing. Sharing — breaking of oneself
and giving oneself away.
We only have what we hand away.

It means sharing out of brokenness to bring healing to community.
We only are broken and this is beautiful: in brokenness,
we are instruments in the hands of the Wounded Healer.

It means in our brokenness, we share in the sufferings of Christ, and this is communion.
God, He calls His people to share –  not out out any sense of perfection –  but out of brokenness, patterning life after the God who broke Himself and gave..."

(Ah! I am beginning to catch on now!)

 ...and it all make sense, this brokenness.
There is a perfect meaning and beuatiful purpose in all of it. 
Brokenness is how He chooses to grow His Body. It's how He chooses to heal. It's how He chooses to purify His Bride. It's how He forms us into His perfect image.


He was broken. He chose brokenness. That captures my heart.

He is good.
He is always good.

Even when things get broken.

Thank you, Jesus.