how: facing seemingly unanswerable questions

 

Questions abound as we watch the news and read reports that make us keep asking how and why, in a futile attempt to try to make sense of what seems senseless and beyond our ken.

Such  questioning thoughts have crowded into my mind, especially in recent months when world events have left me reeling for answers to questions I barely know how to express. Because not everything in life is cut and dried and man’s inhumanity to man is beyond understanding at times.

So I ponder and pray, particularly where injury, and worse, to children is involved. My heart breaks, tears flow and words follow close behind, as in the lament poem below.

Questions without answers

How do you not let your soul grow old, as
calloused as the soles of your feet, when you’re
forced to walk as one displaced, a person
despised for ethnicity and race, made
homeless, rootless, orphaned and lost
in so many ways?

How do you maintain hope when your throat
is always parched and your heart aches for
news of your beloved ones, feared dead, while
you trudge on seeking shelter, trying hard to
assuage the pain of dread?

How do you carry the weight of the world on
your stooped forward, wing-like shoulders, when you
can barely sustain the weight of unshed tears and
the loss you’ve endured, as well as the meagre
belongings you have procured?

How do you cope when there is not enough food to be
found to help a body survive, drink is a desperate word
and your children, who have learnt not to cry
or ask for it, scratch around with stones and sticks
for lack of anything else to amuse themselves with
while their tummies hurt?

How do you keep on believing sufficient help is at hand
and endure the humility of need and receiving, when
you have nothing to offer in return, apart from grateful
thanks, relief and your constant broken state, as you
become yet another faceless, nameless statistic
on TV and newspaper page?

The human spirit has to endure many things as it exists
in this world, but few are called to become uprooted like this
and turned into homeless, displaced souls, whose hope is worn
so low, stretched wafer-thin, whose mind and heart are heavier
than we could truly know or bear
©joylenton

Let’s pray…

Loving Father,
Although we know that nothing is hidden from your awareness, so much distresses our souls as we witness children, weak and vulnerable ones suffering at the hands of others.
Help us to see these atrocities as evidence of sin being unleashed in hearts that are far from you. Enable us to understand that evil unchecked is full of malice and pain.
Teach us to rest in your perfect peace, dwell close to your heart and seek to release our anxiety and fear, while being your love and compassion in action wherever we can.
May we be voices in the wilderness pointing to Jesus. May we believe that all sin meets its match in Him and all questions meet their answer there too. May we trust your Word and promises to be a safe haven for the lost, hurting and dispossessed.
Amen

**Friends, though we might feel helpless, we can raise awareness, pray, give practical aid or donate to help displaced refugees, like my favourite charity does**

It’s not about me

It doesn’t take us long once we have become a Christian to see that there’s a huge obstacle blocking our progress in  the walk of faith ~ ourselves.

We have been accustomed to living an ego-driven-centric life, whether aware of it or not.

From infancy onwards, the soul is naturally set in gaining satisfaction from its needs being met.

We survive and thrive because of it.

But as believers in Christ we have a whole new set of values to live by.

Surrender and submission become the hallmark of a life given over to God.

It’s all about Him. His will and ways. His purposes being fulfilled.

Though God doesn’t seek to be in relationship with unthinking robots. He won’t gatecrash our thinking either.

We play our part in gradually opening up more of ourselves to Him, and He fills and floods more areas of our lives with His healing, restoring Presence.

All is made new ~ over time, testing and trials ~ as faith and trust are stretched and perseverance and wisdom grows.

Until we realise we prefer His ways to our ways and can see the wonder of a life enlivened by His Spirit.

I’m still learning after many years on this pathway. It can take a lifetime to become more like Jesus.

But it is so worth it if His beauty can be seen in you and me and shine out to bless and encourage others.

Because we’re never more truly ourselves (as He created us to be) than when we’re revealing His glory and grace in our lives.

‘All about me’

An insistent voice making a continual plea,

calling, “What about me, what about me?”

Deceptively soft, subdued, until clawing

its way through our resistance, drowning

out all, rising clear and loud,

shouting out, now strong and proud,

it appears deafening to our ears

Life can beat to its persistent drum, it’s

surging flow and constant thrum, or we

can choose to turn the volume low,

rendering things steady and slow

by a huge effort of the will, grit of teeth,

shake of head, and a defiant refusal

to pay attention to what is said

But our best efforts are rendered vain

when its piercing cry pounds relentless

as rain, and we can no longer ignore

all that it seeks to impart and implore,

and with much pushing and pressing succeeds

in driving us forward with undue speed ~

for ego is desperate to be top of the game

How can we learn to be less, not more,

and allow Holy Spirit’s voice to soar?

How do we submit when all inside

cries to be first and to override

those gentle whispers on the wind

from our most loving, faithful Friend?

I wish I knew…..how about you?

©JoyLenton2014

Joining here with Diana and other like-minded questioning souls as we ask:“What’s with this ‘more of Jesus and less of me stuff?'” And with fellow thoughtful sisters Lyli, Mel and Jennifer