Snapshots
“Mommy, can we go to the park and play today?” The excitement in your daughter’s voice while
she clasps her hands together and begs makes it impossible to say no. You push her on the swing and she screams
with excitement. You watch as her
imagination unfolds with each obstacle on the playground.
“Daddy, do you want to throw the football?” Your son stands with his feet wide and his
hands in the air. You toss the ball
gently and cheer when he catches the pigskin.
He rears back with both hands and launches the ball with all his
might. You scurry forward to catch the
wobbly ball and receive a cheer from him.
“Mom, why do boys act so weird ALL THE TIME?” Oh, no!
You dreaded the day when your daughter would show interest in boys. You
sit her down and explain all the things you wished you would have known when
you were her age. You silently hope her
heart doesn’t feel the pain you know will come one day with her first breakup.
“Dad, can we go for a drive?” The first experience was bad enough. Now, your son wants to put your life at risk
again. You sit nervously in the
passenger seat and explain every rule of the road while your son ignores you to
check out his reflection in the rearview mirror. With sweaty palms you tell him to ease out of
the driveway. Instantly, you wish for a
neck brace.
Your daughter screams, “Mom, Dad, Billy asked me to marry
him!” Dad, you take your daughter’s arm
with pride and start down the aisle after everyone stands. Mom, you watch from the front row in
admiration of your beautiful daughter. You
both hope her future will be bright and without suffering.
As you sit at your house the phone rings. You answer the call and struggle to
comprehend the words being spoken. Your
son was involved in a wreck on the interstate.
Your daughter was on the flight that fell from the sky. You drop the phone and see their faces behind
your crying eyes. Their presence lingers
in your thoughts. They can’t be
gone. They were just here. You’ll never kiss your daughter again. You’ll never hold your son in your arms
again. They’re gone.
Job had similar experiences for many years. He had ten children. That’s ten weddings and probably 250 plus
birthday celebrations. He spent his life
teaching his children everything he knew.
His memories with them could probably fill a dozen books. All of that came crashing down in a single
moment when a messenger told him that all his children died when a house
collapsed on them all. He would never
see their smiling faces again. He would
never comfort another painful moment for one of his daughters. He would never give advice to another son
again.
Job reacted by worshiping God. He told his wife, “Should we accept only good
things from the hand of God and never anything bad?" Job took a step back and realized that God
had provided everything wonderful in his life and when it was all taken away
God remained God. Somehow, he knew God
was doing something in his life.
Somehow, he still trusted God.
Job had faith and he worshiped God in the catastrophic storm.
Would you still be able to worship God if you lost
everything? When you lose something
important and the pain of that loss eventually fades you will come to a place
of realization. In this place you will
see that the most important thing in this life is your own relationship with
God. You can’t take anything else with
you to the grave.
