19 1-2 Ahab reported to Jezebel everything that Elijah had done, including the massacre of the prophets. Jezebel immediately sent a messenger to Elijah with her threat: “The gods will get you for this and I’ll get even with you! By this time tomorrow you’ll be as dead as any one of those prophets.” 3-5 When Elijah saw how things were, he ran for dear life to Beersheba, far in the south of Judah. He left his young servant there and then went on into the desert another day’s journey. He came to a lone broom bush and collapsed in its shade, wanting in the worst way to be done with it all—to just die: “Enough of this, God! Take my life—I’m ready to join my ancestors in the grave!” Exhausted, he fell asleep under the lone broom bush. Suddenly an angel shook him awake and said, “Get up and eat!” 6 He looked around and, to his surprise, right by his head were a loaf of bread baked on some coals and a jug of water. He ate the meal and went back to sleep. 7 The angel of God came back, shook him awake again, and said, “Get up and eat some more—you’ve got a long journey ahead of you.” 8-9 He got up, ate and drank his fill, and set out. Nourished by that meal, he walked forty days and nights, all the way to the mountain of God, to Horeb. When he got there, he crawled into a cave and went to sleep. Then the word of God came to him: “So Elijah, what are you doing here?” 10 “I’ve been working my heart out for the God-of-the-Angel-Armies,” said Elijah. “The people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed the places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.” 11-12 Then he was told, “Go, stand on the mountain at attention before God. God will pass by.” A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn’t to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn’t in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn’t in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.
13-14 When Elijah heard the quiet voice, he muffled his face with his great cloak, went to the mouth of the cave, and stood there. A quiet voice asked, “So Elijah, now tell me, what are you doing here?” Elijah said it again, “I’ve been working my heart out for God, the God-of-the-Angel-Armies, because the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed your places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.” 15-18 God said, “Go back the way you came through the desert to Damascus. When you get there anoint Hazael; make him king over Aram. Then anoint Jehu son of Nimshi; make him king over Israel. Finally, anoint Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah to succeed you as prophet. Anyone who escapes death by Hazael will be killed by Jehu; and anyone who escapes death by Jehu will be killed by Elisha. Meanwhile, I’m preserving for myself seven thousand souls: the knees that haven’t bowed to the god Baal, the mouths that haven’t kissed his image.” 19 Elijah went straight out and found Elisha son of Shaphat in a field where there were twelve pairs of yoked oxen at work plowing; Elisha was in charge of the twelfth pair. Elijah went up to him and threw his cloak over him. 20 Elisha deserted the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Please! Let me kiss my father and mother good-bye—then I’ll follow you.” “Go ahead,” said Elijah, “but, mind you, don’t forget what I’ve just done to you.” 21 So Elisha left; he took his yoke of oxen and butchered them. He made a fire with the plow and tackle and then boiled the meat—a true farewell meal for the family. Then he left and followed Elijah, becoming his right-hand man. 1 Kings 19 (The Message)
As a child, I was confused by this story from the life of Elijah the prophet. Just before this, Elijah had challenged the prophets of Baal and Asherah. He was outnumbered 850 to one, yet he stood defiantly, and asked the people of Israel to choose between their false gods and the one true God. God had produced fire on the mountain and shown His mighty power, while the false prophets were humiliated and later slain. It was a stupendous victory! And yet, Elijah, when told of Queen Jezebel’s anger, fled in terror, hid in the wilderness, and asked for death! Surely, Elijah remembered what God had just accomplished. Surely he knew that the same God who sent fire and ended the drought could protect Elijah from harm. Didn’t he? And I expected that God would react with consternation at this display by Elijah–how ungrateful to throw such a pity party after God had done such a miracle!
But God did the most curious thing. He could have sent a powerful reassurance. He could have ordered Elijah to return to the palace to deal with the wicked king and queen–finish the job and bring divine justice to Israel’s ruling family. He could have called Elijah out over his bad behavior and lack of faith. But God let Elijah whine and run away. And after Elijah threw a temper tantrum, God sent an angel to bring him food and water. Finally, God allowed Elijah to see His power in the forms of a mighty wind, an earthquake, and a fire. And it was THEN, and only then, that God spoke to Elijah in a still, small voice– a whisper– something so intimate and comforting that Elijah could not fail to recognize that it was the voice of God.
God CAN and will do mighty miracles. But so often, He prefers to work in a whisper. He is Glorious, and Powerful, and Omnipotent– yes. But He is also intimate and gentle and nurturing– especially with those who have ears to listen; those who have been broken down; those who need a quiet voice of reassurance and peace.
As I have grown older, I see so much in this passage that I couldn’t see as a child. I see how often I “lose it” just after I think I’ve won a great victory. I see how many times God has come to me in whispers and little gestures– just when I need a gentle hug and a simple reminder of His care. God is not the one who points out my temper tantrums and lack of faith. God doesn’t yell recriminations at me– even when I know I deserve them! I see how often I throw a tantrum, and expect God’s wrath, only to be met with His arms around me, calming me, lifting my head so I can look into His eyes of compassion and mercy. God is my Father– and a gentle, wise, and loving Father. And when He draws me close– He whispers of His Love.
Yes, God sent fire from the mountain. He caused justice to be done upon the false prophets. It was mighty; it was fierce; it was devastating. God IS a God of wrath– and even prophets can get wounded in the fight. There is evil in the world, and when we stand up to it, it is exhausting– even when we know God is with us. But God knows our limits. He will often give us more than we can handle– in our own power– and He will pull us through the kind of trials that test and stretch those limits. But He is also preparing a time and place of rest and His quiet whispers of encouragement and hope when we are tempted to give up.
God didn’t just whisper empty promises or nice-sounding platitudes when He finally spoke to Elijah. He brought a new message– someone else would be God’s instrument of justice for Ahab and Jezebel. Someone else would come alongside Elijah in his ministry. And someone else (7,000 someone else-s in fact!) WERE being faithful. Not only had God been with Elijah in the past, God had been preparing the future for Elijah to receive rest, and for others to rise up and carry on. He could have shouted this message from the mountaintop. But He wanted to whisper His message of hope to a faithful prophet who needed quiet reassurance after a difficult battle.
I don’t know what God wants to whisper to me (or to you) today. But I pray that we will have ears to hear, and hearts to respond. And God will whisper to us, whether we just defeated an army of enemies, or just woke up from a much needed nap! He will gently remind us that He loves us in our tantrums just as He loves us in our victories. And He will whisper, because that’s how close He really is in our every moment!
Prayer is a conversation with God. But sometimes it can seem like a one-sided conversation. We have pressing needs for healing, or strength to bear up under stress or oppression. Sometimes, we pray for our loved ones’ struggles against addiction or wrong choices. And God seems silent.
Sometimes, it’s better to get an answer we don’t like than no answer at all. When I was younger, I prayed for a family– a dream family with a handsome husband (preferably wealthy), three adorable and well-behaved children (I already had names picked out..), and maybe a beloved family pet, all living in a beautiful house with a big back yard, and maybe a small woods. I waited and prayed; prayed and waited. When I was in my thirties, still waiting and praying, I found out that I have several health problems– none of them life-threatening, but they mean that the chances that I would ever have had children are slim to none. I would never have the pleasure of watching my own children grow up; never know the joy of having a little voice calling me “mommy.”
But God had not abandoned me. In my careers as a teacher and a children’s librarian (careers I had begun before I knew I couldn’t have children of my own), I had the joy of working with hundreds of children across a spectrum of ages, from nearly newborn through college! My memories are filled with a choir of voices calling me Miss Toney or Miss Lila (as I was known then). God had not closed the door on my dream– he had opened a window.
It wasn’t the answer I had hoped for, but it was an answer. However, I was still single. I didn’t want to be single. I didn’t feel it was what God wanted for my life, yet He didn’t seem to be listening or giving me any sign that He heard or understood. There was only silence. No promising relationships– only a few scattered dates over the long years–a few budding friendships, and many lonely days and nights.
There were many helpful friends and family with suggestions, ideas, advice, comforting thoughts, or “explanations.” “God is waiting for you to become more mature in your walk with Him.” “God is saving the best for last.” “You’re too picky (I was never quite sure what that meant in light of the scarcity of dates, but…)” “You need to ‘get out there’ more–have you tried on-line dating? (I did. It was ‘meh’..).” “You should change jobs– single men are not hanging out at the library.” “You should change churches– find one with more single men.” But God stayed silent through my thirties and into my forties.
I did take some of the very good advice I received. I signed up to do short term missions trips. I traveled when I could, with family and friends, and even on my own. I read and went back to college. I spent time in the woods and at the beach, meditating, singing, or just enjoying God’s nature. I got “involved” in various volunteer opportunities. I joined the church choir. And I continued to pray.
By the time I was squarely in my forties, I had decided to stop praying for a husband, to stop hoping, and praying, and seeking, and dreaming. And God said nothing. But I began getting phone calls from an old friend– someone I had known in childhood–in fact, the very first boy I had ever dated, nearly 30 years before! At first, I listened to his voice-mail messages, but didn’t return his calls. I was annoyed, and even a bit angry. After all this time, was God laughing at me? Did He really expect me to go all the way back to the very beginning and start over?
David and I on our wedding day.
Finally, I let go of my pride, and my ancient dream– I decided to give David a chance. Maybe it would lead to another (renewed) friendship. Maybe it would be another disappointment. But it led to a new dream. It led to marriage, and a huge extended family, including David’s wonderful children, and three adorable (and mostly well-behaved) grandchildren. My husband is kind, and honorable, and Godly. He is a treasure. And God’s timing is perfect, even as it is mysterious. God didn’t withhold marriage as a bargaining chip to get me to “grow up,” or grant it as a “reward” for going on a couple of mission trips. God was silent–but He wasn’t absent. He saw every teardrop, rejoiced in every busy child-filled day at work, smiled at every snapshot of every natural wonder, every Teddy Bear picnic, every Bible School. He want along on every date, kept track of all the hundreds of books I read over the years, and hovered over the dinner table set for one every night. I committed my life to serving Him– whether I was single or married, alone, or surrounded by children. His ways are higher, and better, and wiser than mine.
I may never understand why God allowed me to travel the roads that have been set before me. And my roads could have looked much different. I could have married young, unaware of my barrenness, and ended up bitter and feeling guilty about my body for years before I was diagnosed. I might have had a child (or children), and become proud and controlling and fearful. I might have made idols of my “dream” husband and family.
I know many dozens of people who are praying into the “silence” and waiting for God’s answer. Some are praying for healing. They may pray for days in the hospital, only to lose their loved one. They may pray for weeks or months, as their child battles chronic illness. They may pray for years as they battle depression and loneliness. God may seem silent. But He is never absent. His ways sometimes lead to a happy ending in this life. Sometimes, they lead us to have greater understanding and compassion for others. Sometimes, they lead us to unexpected purposes and goals– adventures beyond what we have ever dreamed of. Sometimes, they lead to a legacy that we cannot see this side of death. He does not promise us the answer we want, when or how we want it. He doesn’t promise us an easy or “happy” answer on the road ahead of us in this life. What He does promise is that He will never forsake us. Long after we have been tempted to give up, to doubt, to turn away, God will still be waiting– sometimes in the silence– for the perfect moment, the perfect justice, the perfect word, the perfect solution.
As I write this, I am keenly aware that one year ago, I was at a graveside, saying farewell to my mother. Grieving comes in waves. I rejoice that she is in heaven, and I rejoice that she had a good, long life, and that she didn’t suffer very long at the end. But there is still an ache– wanting to share a memory or a laugh and knowing she isn’t here; questions I didn’t know I had, but now she can’t answer them; just missing her voice and her smile. My father has been gone for 25 years, and the same ache still hits at odd moments.
Sometimes, grieving brings us closer to God. At other times, we can let our grief drive us away from God. But God doesn’t move. He is ever-present. And He reminds us that He is “close to the broken hearted” (Psalm 34:18). When we are grieving, that is a blessed reminder. Grief tends to isolate us. “No one understands…” “Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.” We see the “rest of the world” enjoying life, seemingly untouched by sorrow, and we feel abandoned twice over.
As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, and be close to the broken hearted. We should be the ones ready with a hug, a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on. We should be the ones who, like the friends of Job (before they offered ill-advised ‘counsel’) are willing to sit with our suffering friends for days at a time, offering the comfort of solidarity and ‘presence.’
My family was blessed with a host of Christian friends and family who comforted us in the days and weeks after Mom’s passing. They still ask. They still share memories. They still pray for us. And in return, we do the same. God does not want any of us to suffer alone.
And this is also true for those who suffer a broken heart for other reasons– divorce, the loss of a home to fire or flood, the loss of a job, a wayward son or daughter– it is important for us to draw strength from others, and offer strength in our turn. But the source of our strength is Jesus, who suffered on our behalf, and rose victorious over death and separation. When “no one” understands, He DOES. When the world leaves us grieving alone, He is THERE. And when we see someone else grieving and suffering, and we don’t know what to do– He gives us the strength and the compassion to reach beyond our own resources and offer comfort.
On our own, we can be like Job’s friends– after awhile, we try to offer solutions, explanations, even judgment about another’s grief. “It’s time to move on.” “Just get over it.” “Well, if only you had…” None of these are helpful. Jesus never said any of those things to the people He came to comfort. Instead, He encouraged them to look to Him as the “resurrection and the life.” (see John 11:25).
Today, let us do the same. There are hurting people all around us. Let’s be an encouragement to others to embrace life– even when we are broken hearted.
As I write this, I’m having an “off” day. I don’t feel well. I don’t particularly feel like worshipping or saying joyful prayers. I don’t even feel particularly like saying a prayer. But I will pray– even if it’s just a mumble or a groan.
God meets us where we are. He is not just the God of the joyful and productive; the “shiny, happy people,” or the ones who feel like overcomers. God is the God of the hurting; the God of the lonely; the God of those who are sad, tired, and feeling “off.” Of course, God doesn’t want me to go through life this way. I will have better days– days of accomplishments and celebration. But God does not leave me alone when I am grumpy, upset, or “blue.” He is right beside me, surrounding me with His presence. So I can mumble today, even if I sang yesterday or cry out in anguish tomorrow.
Prayer is a pursuit for every day– not just when we “feel like it” or when we are desperate for answers. It is a discipline. If I choose not to pray today, I may more easily choose not to pray tomorrow, or the next day. And God will still be waiting there, patiently, whether I mumble or give Him the “silent treatment.” Because prayer is more than just a pursuit and a discipline. It is part of a relationship. God already knows me intimately, but He wants ME to know HIM as well. And He wants me to know and experience His Love– even when I don’t feel it; even when I know I’m not very loveable. And that knowledge–that enduring relationship–will carry me through days like today. I can mumble, or whisper all the lies and sadness I feel on a particular day, but God’s presence will break through and wrap me in the cloak of Truth–the everlasting Truth of His Love and Faithfulness. Feelings will pass, but Faithfulness endures. And I pray to the God who is Eternally Faithful–even when I am temporarily feeling faithless and far away.
God is an expert at turning mumbles into melodies!
It can be a dog-eat-dog kind of world out there. Every day, I hear of people who are facing difficult and trying circumstances– health issues, loss of a job or home, loss of a family member or close friend, depression, oppression, harassment, rebellious or estranged children, abuse, academic failures, exhaustion from being provider, caregiver, etc.– even just daily stress. It can really take a toll. But it becomes even more difficult when we isolate ourselves.
When I get stressed, I tend to withdraw. I don’t want others to think of me as a failure, or to think less of me in my struggles. But this is one of the worst things I can do. First, it means more worry and stress because I’m bearing the burden alone! Second, it forces me to cover up my level of anxiety or depression be pretending that things are fine when they aren’t. That would all be bad enough, but it gets worse. Isolating means my focus turns inward– my problems become bigger, not smaller; I’m so close to the problem, I’m not able to “look outside the box” for solutions, because my box keeps closing in on me. I can’t see beyond my circumstances to understand if they are temporary, or if they necessitate some life changes on the other side of whatever crisis I’m dealing with. And, worst of all, the only voice I listen to is my own, rehearsing and reminding me of the difficulties or failures I’m facing. What opportunities do I miss, not only to hear an encouraging word, but to share one with someone else?!
We all need an encouraging word now and then; a voice telling us that we are not alone; that all is not lost; that there is hope. I have been blessed with wonderful family, friends, and neighbors who are great about encouraging me, even when I try to shut them out or pretend that everything is grand. Sometimes that encouragement comes through conversation; sometimes a card or text message or a shared piece of scripture; sometimes it comes through prayer. I may not even know who prayed, or what words they used until days or weeks later, but their faithfulness in praying has become a lifeline when I feel isolated and overwhelmed.
This does not negate my need to pray and ask God for wisdom, healing, or strength for myself, nor does it suggest that God doesn’t answer my prayers. Instead, it shows a pattern– God often answers our prayers by incorporating and using those around us. God’s goodness and his love are shown best in teamwork. We run the race to win, but we race together as teammates, not competitors. We share sorrows, struggles, and joys. We come alongside; we lift others up, and they lift us up in return.
Encouragement does so much, we sometimes underestimate its power. In a world of sniping, criticism, name-calling, and finger-pointing, encouragement does the following:
It lets someone know that they are seen and heard– that they are being noticed, thought of, and valued. This shouldn’t be uncommon, but in a world where we are connected to so many be technology, and to so few face-to-face, it is HUGE!
It give us perspective to realize that we are not alone in our problems and not unique in facing difficulties.
It reminds us that hope and help are gifts to be shared, not something we must earn.
It gives us a purpose and a mission to be part of God’s redemptive work– Jesus gave encouragement and hope to those who needed it most, not to those who “deserved” it.
It can be a dog-eat-dog world out there, but we are not dogs. We are children of the King. Let’s send out some encouraging words today!
A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver. (Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)
Also see James 5:13-16 on praying for one another.
I like to play Scrabble, and other word games. Sometimes, in order to make a certain word in Scrabble, you need to wait for an opportunity and a particular tile. It can be very frustrating to play when you have only consonants or only vowels. You need both to make most words. Vowel tiles are not worth as much as the consonants. And so most players tend to discount them. After all, if someone else has made a word, you can use the vowel from their word to make yours– sometimes. But sometimes, you really need a vowel in the right position to make your word. Sometimes, you need a particular vowel. The other day, I was hoping for an “o.” Instead, I had four “i”s! I could try to make use of the vowels I had, or lose a turn and trade in my “i”s for other letters– which might all be consonants!
Life is not a game of Scrabble. But there are times when we are looking for something to help make sense of life. It seems like whatever “hand” we’ve been given adds up to nonsense. We need an “o” to make it work. Deep down, though, I think most of the time, we really need an “OH!” We need to look beyond whatever we have, and see the wonderful things God has already done in and around and through us.
As I was driving to my doctor’s appointment the other day, it was hazy and cool for late June. It could have felt depressing or even oppressive. But I was listening to a song on the radio. The singer pointed out that God’s goodness, His Mercy, and His artistry are all around us in nature– the sky, the singing of birds, the colors of the sunrise or sunset, the majesty of trees or mountains, the comfort of a gentle rain–and suddenly, I found my “OH!” moment. Recent rains had brought a newer, deeper shade of green to the leaves, and had caused the corn and beans in the fields to begin springing up. The haze could not hide all the life and growth going on all around me. God’s magnificence was there for anyone to see.
Sometimes, I try to substitute an “I” for the “Oh!” Instead of focusing on the SON, I fall into SIN. When I look at what I have done, or the plans or dreams I have, it can fall short. I can’t make the stars shine. I can’t create a forest, or sing a song more beautiful than a babbling brook through a meadow of flowers. My best efforts with “i” aren’t worth much. But, OH!, what God can do! OH! What God has done! And it’s this same God who loves me and knows my name!
Are you having a “hazy” day? Are you looking around for something? Something clear, and beautiful, and worthwhile? Maybe, if you have an old Scrabble game, you could put an “o” tile in your pocket or purse to remind you to see the “OH!” all around you today!
20 For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. 21 For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.
10-14 I’m glad in God, far happier than you would ever guess—happy that you’re again showing such strong concern for me. Not that you ever quit praying and thinking about me. You just had no chance to show it. Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. I don’t mean that your help didn’t mean a lot to me—it did. It was a beautiful thing that you came alongside me in my troubles.
Philippians 4:10-14 (The Message)
I know many Christians who quote Philippians 4:13–generally in the King James or New King James versions: “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens (strengtheneth) me.” It is a powerful verse, but taken out of context, it can become twisted and lead to unrealistic expectations. In context, Paul is not talking about achievement, but about endurance. “I can endure all things…” or “I can cope with all circumstances…” is a better understanding, which is why I chose to quote from The Message, instead of another translation. Many times, however, we co-opt this familiar verse to fill our calendar with busy plans for our own achievements, trusting in God to give us the strength to multi-task our way past exhaustion. We end up frustrated, disappointed, and even questioning our faith.
God never meant for any of us to do “all things..” In fact, He wants us to trust Him to direct our paths– even when He directs us away from achievement and into rest or even need. Paul was a doer. He loved to be on the road, preaching and teaching, building up churches, and making new converts. But the letter to the Philippian believers was written from a jail cell. Paul could not be there to minister to them, but they had ministered to him, instead! Paul was thanking his friends for the help they gave him, not because he was abandoned or starving, but because their gifts reminded him of their care for him, and of God’s care for all of us. God had given Paul a season of rest from the road– imposed rest, but rest that gave him time to reflect on God’s goodness in solitude.
When we set ourselves up to “do all things,” it usually means “all the things I think I can or ought to do,” or “all the things I am asked or expected to do as a volunteer or a friend or neighbor or parent…” God is more concerned with our “being” than our “doing.” He wants us to be seeking after righteousness, not self-righteousness. He wants us to be growing in our love for others– even if we can’t “do it all.” He wants us to follow Him, not impress Him!
I’m in a season of “can’t” right now. It’s not that I can’t do anything, but I can’t do “all things.” That’s not a result of my lacking faith or having a wrong view of God– God CAN do anything and “everything.” But I can’t. And God’s plan isn’t to empower me to be autonomous, self-sustaining, or self-righteous. I NEED others! And I NEED Him! What I CAN do, is trust in His timing and His resources to be sufficient for my daily needs. I can get “enough” done today, with God’s wisdom and strength. I can do “enough” to overcome anxiety or depression– with the help that God provides. That may mean allowing someone else to do simple tasks that I can’t do today. It may mean accepting medical help. It may mean changing my schedule or my expectations for today. But I can endure all the setbacks, and the moments of grief or weakness that keep me from “doing” what I had planned. I can weather it all in the power of Christ. And so can you! If you are finding yourself in a season of “can’t,” don’t skim over Philippians 4– study it. Claim it! Christ’s power isn’t for those who “can.” It’s for those who ask!
It’s a great thing to have a “can-do” attitude. But sometimes, we need a season of “can’t do” in order to step back and see what we “can BE” in the power of Christ!
One of my favorite movies is “It’s a Wonderful Life.” No matter how many times I watch it, it never gets old for me.
Oh, I know it’s in black and white, and it’s out-of-date. It’s politically incorrect on numerous levels, and it’s theologically incorrect, as well. But for all that, I think it has a deep wisdom we are sorely lacking, and I think what it says about the power of prayer cannot be dismissed.
Much of the movie is spent tracing the less-than-wonderful things that happen to George Bailey. George Bailey is the quintessential “nice-guy” who always seems to miss out–as a boy, he leaps into an icy river to save his brother’s life. His brother is saved, but George ends up losing the hearing in one ear. While his friends go off to college, George has to stay behind; when he finally saves enough money to enroll, he ends up having to give up his college plans to save the family business after the sudden death of his father. He loses out on business opportunities, and keeps losing skirmishes with his nemesis, the “scurvy spider” local magnate, Mr. Potter. Finally, on Christmas Eve, George has had enough. The weight of always doing “the right thing,” and watching others get ahead while he falls further behind, has taken its toll. When his absent-minded uncle loses $8000, George faces scandal and prison after all his years of frustrating hard work in a job he hates. After uncharacteristic angry outbursts and a short drinking binge, George is in utter meltdown. In desperation, he prays. It’s not an eloquent prayer, or an angry outburst. It’s a wimpy, doubtful, squeak of a prayer, “Dear Father in Heaven, I’m not a praying man, but if you’re up there and you can hear me, show me the way…show me the way.”
What the viewer knows, but George doesn’t, is that dozens of people he knows have all been praying for him. We get to hear the voices of his wife, his children, his friends and neighbors, all praying simple and heartfelt prayers. And we also know that God is at work– preparing to send an angel to help George. But in the bar, at the end of George’s tearful and tremulous prayer, God is silent.
Not only is God silent, but George’s downward spiral continues after his prayer. He gets punched in the jaw by a man he was arguing with earlier in the evening, and he doesn’t even have enough money to pay his bar tab. Driving away, drunk, he runs into a tree and gets yelled at. Reeling down the road and onto the bridge, where he intends to jump to his death, he almost gets hit by a truck.
While I like the sappy, happy ending of the movie, the incredible darkness and despair leading up to George’s encounter with Clarence, and the even darker “alternate universe” that George experiences are what keep me coming back to this movie– not because I’m a glutton for emotional wringers, but because George’s story is only wonderful when he gets to see it from God’s point of view. Mr. Potter tells George that he is worth more dead than alive. But Clarence shows George the true worth of his life, not as it might have been, but as it might NOT have been.
And so it is with our lives–all the “might-have-beens” and broken dreams and failures that weigh us down– God is NOT (as we so often picture Him) shaking His head and grumbling about our wasted potential and weakness. And often, the people we most fear to disappoint, our family and friends, are rooting for us to stay the course– to finish the race. God wants to wipe away all the seeming failures; all the “what-if”s and the “what might have been”s and replace them with the bigger picture of “what is happening around you”, “what really IS”, and “what can be.”*
There was never anything wrong with George’s dreams of traveling the world and becoming a successful builder of skyscrapers “a hundred stories tall.” George’s desire to have nice things for himself and his family was not evil, and, in fact, his ambition to do great things was not that different than Mr. Potter’s. But George’s choices, while “right” were not in his own immediate best interest. What Clarence showed George was not “what might have been” had George made other choices in his life. What he showed George was indeed far more wonderful– the ultimate IMPACT of George’s choices! God didn’t “take away” George’s dreams or ruin his life. But neither did He prevent him from making selfish choices or getting what he wanted in the moment. George’s life wasn’t wonderful because of what happened to him– though the ending is miraculous, and George gets toasted by his hero brother as “the richest man in town.” But what really made George’s life wonderful was that he was THERE– there to save his brother; there to fall in love with Mary; there to help and influence so many people; there to tuck his daughter into bed and “paste” the petals of her flower; even there to stand up to Mr. Potter when no one else did.
God answered George’s prayer. And He answered the prayers of his friends and family. But He didn’t answer in the way we would expect. In fact, George jokes with Clarence that the answer to his prayer was getting slugged in the jaw. But God’s answer came in the form of a childlike “angel” who struggles and questions his ability to make a difference– much like George himself. God didn’t answer the superficial aspect of George’s prayer– He didn’t show him the way to get $8,000. He didn’t show him the way to defeat Mr. Potter, or suddenly become more successful. But He did show George the way to look for “what is” and “what can be”, instead of the “what might have been.”
For anyone who has lost a friend or family member to suicide–my prayer is that we too, would find comfort and hope in the lives our loved ones lived, and not in the manner of their death. God is gracious and loving above all that we can imagine. Part of the hope and message of this movie for me is that, even if George had jumped at the end, his life was still wonderful in God’s eyes, just as it was to all who knew and loved him..
I don’t know about you, but I sometimes have problems with Advent Season. On the one hand, it’s a season of joy and wonder; a season of anticipation and expectation. But I find myself contemplating…and as the days get darker, earlier, and the snow falls, then melts, leaving everything brown and gray, I can’t seem to hang on to the joy. It slips through my fingers, leaving me thoughtful and even a little depressed.
I also find myself looking at the glitter and listening to the peppy music of the season and feeling as though all the “Merry” in Christmas is just a soap bubble, waiting to burst. I don’t watch much television, but it seems that every year the “holiday” specials and TV ads get more artificial and shallow. “Buy this!” “Turn up the Tunes!” “Wear THIS to the Holiday party!” “Eat this– Drink that!” “Get away from it all!” It’s more about escaping the ordinary, rather than celebrating the extraordinary gift of God’s Son. The more I try to get “into the Spirit” of the season, the more I seem to miss it…
It is important to remember that this extraordinary Joy came INTO and THROUGH the ordinary. The angels didn’t announce to the shepherds that they could escape their duties and run off to a vacation cruise; Mary and Joseph didn’t celebrate their first Christmas surrounded by lights and mugs of hot cocoa. The wise men didn’t have a brand new GPS device to help them find their destination, or tasty cookies and fruit baskets to make the journey more “fun.” This “good news of great joy” was the birth of a child– an ordinary event–except that THIS birth was the fulfillment of God’s Promise and the Way, the Truth, and the Life!
Many millions of people today will not have joyful circumstances to make the season “Merry and Bright.” But they can experience true Joy– the kind that comes from Knowing Jesus–and not just for a day or a season, but forever, in spite of difficulties, pain, and struggle. There IS joy in the journey, but it doesn’t always manifest as mirth and comfort.
This season, it is our privilege as Christians to offer a different level of Joy to the World–the Joy of forgiveness; the joy of belonging; the joy of eternal Hope and Peace. It may not be in laughter or singing. It may be in holding a hand at the side of a hospital bed. It may be in sharing tears with those who are suffering. It may be sharing a crust of bread with real thankfulness, instead of a feast with stress. Joy doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t require wrapping paper sugar sprinkles. The best gifts we can give this season don’t have to be filled with merriment and laughter. They don’t have to be expensive or even filled with thoughtful intent. They should be the spontaneous response of love and compassion for those around us. Let’s give lots of hugs, smiles, and small tokens of respect and appreciation this year. After all, God’s great gift– the greatest of all– began as a tiny, wailing infant, hidden away in a spare stable, wrapped in rags. But “Behold!” It is still bringing great joy all over the world. (Luke 2:10)
Father,, Today is a dreary day. It is not warm or sunny; it is not filled with joy or peace. The house is a mess. I’m not even dressed. I feel emptied and drained.
Even though I can’t see Your glory in my surroundings, I know You can see The glory of eternity. You see the brighter days ahead. You are already there, Celebrating.
You have not journeyed here to Listen to my prayer… Because You have always been here Right beside me. You are not put off by my Dirt or disheveled appearance; You are not unaware of my sadness– You know my thoughts before I think them! You know my emotions better than I know myself!
Today is a dreary day, But it is just a speck in the fullness of Your Eternal Light. Shine into my darkness Dispel the dreariness around me. Help me to reflect, not the clouds, But the Son!
Thank you, Lord. Even on a dreary day, In Your presence, there is fullness of Joy– Not the giddiness of a sunny springtime, But the glow of a hearth-fire, Sustaining me.
So my praise today may not explode In bright colors and exclamations. But it will be a steady and steadying Ember–warm enough to survive Ready for You to Ignite tomorrow’s fresh flame!
Pursuing Prayer 