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November 18

Why me, God?

Why me, God?

WHY ME, GOD?

Why was I born to two loving, faithful Christian parents whose tremendous love for each other is only eclipsed by their unyeilding love for you? Why me?

Why was I born into a prosperous, free nation and have never known hunger or neglect? Why me?

Why, why was I blessed to attend Christian schools throughout my secondary, college, and graduate education; being nurtured by dedicated Christian professors and making lifelong Christian friends who have challenged my faith and helped me to grow closer to you? Why me?

Why, why did you give me such success in school, so that I never struggled to eventually grasp difficult concepts and make the grades needed to enter my professional career? Why me?

Why did you give me a Christian husband who has fulfilled every dream I’ve ever had about the man I would spend my life with – who is faithful, patient, hard-working, even-tempered, not materialistic, handy, smart, a fun but teaching Daddy? Why me?

Why did you give me a job right out of school with amazing Christian co-workers who have become dear friends, and enjoyable patients to treat, and for a family-based company with its priorities straight? Why me?

Why God, why did you give me not one but two beautiful healthy boys with absolutely no physical or mental disabilities or limitations? Boys who bring me such pride, joy and laughter each day? Why me?

Why Father, why did you let my dreams come true in being able to stay home with those boys some days and also be able to serve patients a few days per week? Why did you work it out so that they were always being taken care of by Christian friends in their homes while I was working? Why me?

Why Lord, have you placed me in a city with multiple top-rated medical institutions full of brilliant and also caring medical professionals? Why me?

Why, my sweet Father, have you walked with me every day of this journey?

I’ve been asking the wrong questions. These are where I try and direct my mind now. These are the only why questions I have a right to ask.

Lord Jesus, Hold me in your arms. No, better yet, bring my face just inches from yours, gently cradle each side of my jaw, and fix my eyes on You. Keep them there. In your strong gentleness, do not let me turn my head even one fraction of a degree to the left or right, to see the wind or the waves. I want only to gaze at You. You are real, all else is passing away. You are real and true.





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