I often find myself doubting that
there are plans and purpose for my life. I question whether God has good in-store for me. This last year when my relationship with the love of my life
ended I found again that same doubt creep in. My thoughts were, “if I am
praying to the same God that made the heaven and earth, why wouldn’t he make a
way for my relationship?”
The longer I traced the wounds left
by my ex, the more I discovered I gave him blame over pains cut long before I
knew his name. The wounds ancient in their familiarity came from a first love.
The love that paves the way for all other loves to meet the standard. The love
of a daddy and daughter. So much wreckage was made in my heart by the man that
was meant to be the very protector of that heart.
Looking at my life this last year
and seeing all my unresolved hurts that needed healing has been overwhelming.
My thought was again, “if I am worshiping the same God who could calm the
raging sea, why would He not place me in the hands of a dad who could love me?”
With my eyes so set on what God can do but didn’t I had been missing the mark.
I have been limiting my limitless God.
In John 11 we find Jesus at the
grave of Lazarus. Here he is surrounded by broken hearts. All of whom are
facing a pain deeper than one heart should have to hold. Whispers of my same
question begin to surface. In verse 37 it reads, “And some of them said, Could
not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this
man should not have died?”
In just a few short verses we find
Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Verses 43 and 44 read, “And when he thus
had spoken he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth! And he that was
dead came forth.”
When the people experienced the
loss of who they loved they began asking the wrong question. Instead of asking God to
raise to life the dead, they asked why he didn’t spare Lazarus from dying. Being stuck on Jesus not saving Lazarus they almost
missed his raising Lazarus. They limited God.
This story moves me. I find myself
so much like these people whose hearts are broken and eyes blinded. Wanting the
solution that comes with less pain. Instead of seeing how much more God can do
with my loss, I tend to limit God. I ask Him why He didn’t spare my heart
rather than asking Him to now save my heart.
I no longer want to limit my
limitless God. In my life plans I have made have ended, relationships abandoned,
and my heart shattered. As I grieve through the loss I want to begin asking
God, “What are your plans to raise the dead in me?”
His power is beyond Lazarus grave,
beyond the grave of my losses, and far beyond the grave that once held my
Savior. My God could have spared my heart. However, now He comes with nail
scarred hands that could have spared His own life, and offers to me saving
grace.
