How God “reacts” to us in our pain.

The last few weeks I have been learning a lot. I am finding that the relationship between a child and a parent is much the same as the relationship between us and God. There are obvious flaws in the simile, but I believe we can learn a lot from it.

Last week Jack was toddling around the living room. I had been trying to keep him up until nap time and I could tell he was getting tired. All of the sudden he tripped on the edge of the carpet and hit the bridge of his nose on the edge of the coffee table. The sound of the collision was horrible. I rushed to him, scooped him up in my arms and did my best to comfort him as he wailed. His nose bled a little bit, but he must have cried inconsolably for at least 5 minutes. That was a very long 5 minutes. He ended up with a puffy nose and a bruise that ran down the side of his nose and under one eye. He survived.

When we are in impossible pain (for whatever reason) does God react the way I did? Rushing in, scooping us up in his arms? I believe so. There are people who suffer unimaginable pain, and all they can do is rest in Gods arms and cry for that very long 5 minutes. Much like Jack, some of us are tired even before we suffer great pain. The way that my son clung to me is how I want to cling to God in my time of need.

Obviously there are some flaws in this comparison. God foresees our pain, and disaster in the way a parent cannot. Why does God not stop the chain of events? I believe sometimes he does, but pain is a very good teacher. There are some lessons to be learned that only pain can teach us. Jack is much more careful around the edge of the carpet now. The saying “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” used to bug me. Being beat up just makes you weak right? Perhaps being beat up makes you smarter, not necessarily stronger. Maybe being beat up makes your faith stronger, and that is more important than your comfort.

Brook pushed Jack down the other day. I obviously had to deal with the perpetrator of the crime, but as the victim Jack sat on the floor crying, waiting to be comforted. He was not hurt, he just wanted to be scooped up and comforted. I refused. I told him “you are a big boy, get up, lets go” and I walked away. He wailed as if his face had met the coffee table again. How dare I leave him in his time of need! God can gauge our pain. He knows how strong we are, or if we are just a drama queen in need of an audience. I'm still working through all of this, but I think in our pain we demand that God serve us in the time and manner that we request, and when he doesn't we question his love, his motives, and his sovereignty.