What Happened?

July 29, 2010
Listen to this devotional:

I was doing a financial report for our Presbyterian Women's group when indigestion started in my chest. I went to the kitchen to get some milk, and shortly after, the indigestion turned into pain with the inability to breathe. I called my husband, who called the ambulance, and the whole of my life began to change.

After four heart attacks at the age of 56, almost dying with the third, three stents inserted on an emergency basis, four months of recovery, no work, permanent heart damage, and many, many tears, the anger had started to subside. I was thin, with good blood pressure, low cholesterol, and good blood sugars for a diabetic. This wasn't supposed to happen to me! So I asked Job. It wasn't supposed to happen to him either!

Job 42:3 – [You said to me] Who is this that darkens and obscures counsel [by words] without knowledge? Therefore [I now see] I have [rashly] uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. (AMP)

I tried to be like Job and not get angry at God, but it was hard. I ranted and raved at Him in my bed at night. My son, Thomas White, wrote the following prayer and it helped.

I don't understand you
Because I can't still my mind long enough
To hear more than a passing phrase.
I don't understand you
Because I must remain tough enough
To survive through the difficult days.

I don't understand you
Because you're not listening to what I say;
Because you haven't been where I've been;
Because you didn't make your own way;
Because you haven't seen what I've seen;
Because you don't hear what I pray.

I don't understand you.
I've tried. I've cried.
I've wished that I could die,
But I don't understand you.

Then you opened your hands
And showed me the holes.
There's nothing more I need to know,
To understand here, down below,
Nothing more to say,
Nothing more to pray…

Those holes are the thunderous voice of evermore,
Forever morning of light, life, hope, and joy.
And at them, the universe bows with holy silence,
Dreadful awe, fearful obedience.
What am I to speak into this audience?
Poor vanity? Proud villainy?

Dust of the earth, no more, no more.
I don't understand you,
But I'll love how you love me,
Without understanding,
But in faith believing,
This was how the holes were made.


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About the author:

Peggy White <bpwhite777@cogeco.ca>
Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada

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