Day 118 - October 11 - My Atrophied Faith Part 3

The middle of the night. That's what this current part of the journey with my son feels like - quiet, no real disturbances going on, somewhat peaceful - but with a sense that something sinister may be lurking around. I've felt just like this for the last week or so; not much is going on, not much is changing, but there's a feeling in the air that something serious is afoot.

I'm actually OK with it being the middle of the night, figuratively, because one of my favorite Bible stories happens during the night.

Now, I've got you thinking - which one? The virgins waiting for the bridegroom? Nope, not that one. What about the story where Paul and Silas are praising God in prison at midnight and there's an earthquake? That's a good one too, but it's not the one I'm thinking of. No, the story to which I refer is told by my favorite storyteller, Jesus Himself, in Luke 11:5-8. The disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray, and He does, by telling them a story about a man who needs some food because a friend has arrived in the middle of the night after a long journey. Having no bread, he goes next door (OK, this is the Eric Williamson paraphrase again - bear with me!) and bangs on his neighbor's door to get some food. The neighbor, being a good Christian neighbor, immediately jumps up and...no, wait - that's not what he does. He gripes about opening the door, but the man won't go away. He just keeps banging and banging and banging on the guy's door, until finally the neighbor gets up and gives him the food just to get rid of him. Jesus says that although the neighbor wouldn't give him the food because he was his friend, "because of his impudence" he gets up, gets the food together, and gives it to him.

I took the liberty of looking up the meaning of the word "impudent", and the definition I found is "marked by cocky boldness". In other words, this guy was so cheeky that finally the neighbor said "Man, this guy's cheeky! You gotta love a guy that's that cheeky!" and gets out of bed to take care of him.

Man, I like that story! Why, you ask? Well, I've gotten a bunch of interesting emails lately, along with a number of comments on various posts over the last few weeks, in the flavor of the following:

"Isn't the fact that Connor will spend eternity with God good enough for you?"

"What's important is the eternal, not our bodies here in this world."

"You need to lay your rage down, accept what's happened, and rest in the peace of God that passes understanding."

"Is it here on earth you're concerned with, or is it beyond earth and with the Father for eternity?"

First, yes. I have actually gotten emails like these. It seems to me that these comments, and others like them, suggest that I am being impudent for continuing to ask God for my son's restoration. In other words, the writers of these statements fear that I am being disobedient, or at least insufferably arrogant, to not simply accept the fate God has ordained for me and my son. So I'd like to respond to that, as a sort of segue into the next phase of my discussion on faith - 

I give you my word, writers of the above, that if I sense that God desires me to accept our lot and rest in His grace, I will endeavor to do so. I will be obedient to my Lord, even if it isn't something I want or desire. But the operative word here is "if". God has not put that sense in my head or my heart. He has not comforted me with words of sufficiency in this trial. In fact, I get the opposite sense - that I must continue to pray, continue to plead for my son, continue to trust that God will be faithful to His own word, and that He wishes me to continue to stand on the words of verses like Mark 11:24 and pray, believing that I have received my request. "AND IT WILL BE YOURS". That's what God's word says. I didn't make it up. I am not painting myself into a corner, either - despite another accusation that's been made. I'm not the one on the hook here - I'm just believing what God's word already said. If that's impudent, color me "marked by cocky boldness".

So now - does this mean that I have great faith, or does it mean I've gone off the deep end? The answer to that is "neither". I've got no more faith than any other person on this planet, and actually much less than most. I just find myself in a position where I have to - and I mean HAVE TO - believe that God's word is true and that He actually meant what He said when He said it. 

Of course, there are those in this community who will say that staking so much on words written on dusty scrolls by a bunch of fishermen 2000 years ago is a pretty good sign of madness; and it's OK to think that, given a particular point of view. But that point of view is A) not mine, and B) wrong. (Sorry, there's just no other way to say that. I don't mean to offend, it's just truth.) The words to which I refer aren't the words of some fisherman or tax collector or Jewish zealot - they are the words of the living and powerful God - the only one, actually. And His words stand or fall by His own faithfulness. True, my world collapses if God is not faithful to His own word. But that's not going to happen, because He cannot break faith. Because He cannot break faith, He won't break faith. And so, unless He shows me otherwise, I have to obediently be cheeky and continue to ask for Connor's full restoration.

And so we continue banging on the door in the middle of the night. Not only that, but all the other neighbors (that's y'all, in this case) have heard the ruckus and have stuck your heads out of the windows to see what's going on (not unlike Mrs. Kravitz across the street from the Stevens' house). Some of you are watching to see how long I bang on the door before I give up. Some of you are wondering if my Neighbor is going to ever open the door. And some of you just wish I'd quit making all the racket so you could go back to sleep.

But all of you will glorify the name of God when He opens the door. Me too.

Now, what about faith? There are two kinds of faith in this world, I think. It seems to me that there's the kind of faith we have when we trust that God's word is true, repent of our sins and re-turn to our relationship with God through Christ Jesus by faith. Call it "salvation faith" if you like. Then, there's the "mustard seed" kind of faith, the kind that Peter exercised when he hopped out of a boat and stood shakily on top of a lake, or the kind that supported the statement "I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!" That's the kind of faith that interests me - the kind that prompts a man to stake everything on nailing a list of 95 theses to a church door, or causes a man to go back to the tribe of savages who murdered his father in order that they might know God. I grew up knowing the first kind of faith. Now I want to know the other kind. Don't you?

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