Do you ever feel like God doesn’t care about your pain?
“If you really loved me,” we say to Him, “you wouldn’t let me hurt like this. You would give me a husband.” OR… “You would heal my sick child.” OR… “You would help me find a job.” OR… fill in the blank with your pain point.
Earlier this week, my two-year-old daughter fell and scraped her knee. She was crying all the way home, and I could tell she was hurting. I held her hand and reassured her that mama was here and she would be okay.
As soon as we entered the house, I rushed to our medicine cabinet and grabbed triple antibiotic cream.
“I don’t need that,” she said, between the tears, hyperventilating at the sight of my loot.
“What?” I asked, quizzically.
“That,” she said, pointing to the little tube.
“But baby,” I cooed, trying to soothe her while rubbing circles in her back. “This will take the pain away. It will make you feel better.”
“No!” she insisted, the tears running down her cheeks. “Please! I don’t need that!” And she broke into sobs.
I sighed and placed the medicine aside, knowing that I wouldn’t force the treatment on my little girl against her wishes. This wasn’t a life-or-death situation, but she certainly would have been more comfortable had she allowed me to care for her as mama knows best.
And that’s when it dawned on me: how often do I reject God’s blessings because I’m afraid of His methods? I’m not saying that death, sickness, loneliness, or tragedy are God’s gifts—they’re a result of the sin that has entered this world. But within those hardships, God desires to comfort us with His own presence, and often through unordinary means.
What if, as the song goes, His blessings come through raindrops? What if His healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know He’s near? What if trials of this life are His mercy in disguise?
What if all those things we fear, the Neosporin of our lives, is really God’s healing agent to bring us closer to Him? As I gathered my little one in my arms, I couldn’t help but think of this verse, when Jesus is speaking to the city that rejected Him:
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, […] how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” (Luke 13:34)
You were not willing. What chilling words.
I don’t pretend to know the pain you’re going through, but I do know that God doesn’t want to waste a single opportunity to gather us in His arms and comfort us with His Spirit.
Let us humbly learn to welcome God’s medicine in our lives, even when it stings at first, trusting that our Father knows best.
With much joy,
PS What are you going through in your life this week? How can I pray for you?