Fear And The Goodness Of Godনমুনা

Even now I’m astonished to remember the gift of the peaceful sleep that I enjoyed in the midst of the wildly unpredictable events that swirled around us during Jonah’s cancer. Being left with no choice but total dependence provided me with a very real sense of comfort because I was seeing, in countless tangible ways, that “our help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.” 

Who is more carefree than a small child? And yet who in the world is more helpless? I have never seen one of my toddlers pacing the playground and wringing his hands over where his next meal is going to come from. Young children are not burdened with a sense of self-sufficiency or a compulsion to pull themselves up by their bootie straps. They are free to play because they know somebody else is taking care of their needs.

Children are gifts. Every morning Jonah continued to draw breath, I knew that he was a gift that might have been taken away, but that had been given back to me again. This had been true at all times, and true of all five of my children. But those intense early days of battling cancer opened my eyes to see it in a new way. Our days are in God’s hands. Each one is His gift. 

Have you ever thought to thank God for the healthy production of a functional white blood cell? And another? And another? I hadn’t. I recommend that you thank Him now. Every cell is His handiwork. Every inflation of your lungs is like a re-creation of Adam—the stuff of earth receiving the breath of God. Again. Exhale. And again.

Our lives are in God’s hands, but it’s not always easy to live as though we believe it. We distrust the Author and try to wrest the pen from His fingers and into our own. If our lives are ultimately in our own hands, we must lie awake, willing lungs to fill, willing cells to divide, willing another day to come. If we alone control our destinies, then we can never rest, never turn our backs, never loosen our white-knuckle grip for a moment. But if all our moments are ultimately in our Father’s hands, then we are free, like a child, to keep our own hands open—both to give and to receive a thousand other joys.