I stood in church on Shabbat, about to be prayed over because I was sick. Not one to mince words, Rabbi asked me “What, you don’t think He can do it? Where’s your faith?”. “Oh, I believe he can do anything!” I smiled.
It’s not the first time those words have crossed my lips, you see. I had said it many times in hope of God saving my marriage. Which didn’t turn out so well, but that’s another story for another time. Despite that, I still do believe he can do anything. I mean, there wouldn’t be much point in believing in a God that couldn’t! My problem is, I just don’t know that he will.
Rabbi laughed back at me and asked “What, you think he wants you sick?!” I started trying to answer, but my wise Rabbi just ignored that and started praying over me. I didn’t get healed, though I did get a much-needed word about something else going on. And what he asked stuck with me.
I have hope. Anyone who knows the least bit about who I am knows that I’ve got hope. And I trust that God wants the best for me, I just don’t usually trust my understanding of what “the best” is. So I trust in a general sense, and hope for specific things, but don’t get my heart set on any thing in particular. I thought this was wise. I’ve seen the damage a sense of entitlement can do!
But if we’re his children, aren’t we entitled? But then, we’re living in a fallen world. Should we think we’ll never get sick? Doesn’t sound too bright to me, when we’re all guaranteed to die. So I’m sick. Deal with it according to how you believe God would have you support your body in overcoming illness, and that’s that. But back to Rabbi’s question… does that mean God wants me sick? Hope is good, but it’s not enough. We need faith, too. Which is more than “general” trust. Why can’t I ever believe that he’s going to do something specific? That is faith, no?
During the sermon I made a note to myself from some scripture that was read (at least how it applied to the thoughts in my head): Faith = Hope + Confidence
That night I chose to read Psalm 33. I got to verse 18 tonight and read on through to 19 before stopping to restart at 18.
But ADONAI’s eyes watch over those who fear him, over those who wait for his grace (19) to rescue them from death and keep them alive in famine.
I had to restart because I realized I read “waiting” wrong. I wait, but not with expectancy. Surely anyone who is on the brink of death or desperately out of food will not be kicking around in the sand. Nor will they be doing a bunch of busy-work which I’ve also heard erroneously preached as waiting. But they are waiting expectantly. “Any minute now… any second”.
And I guess that’s where I go wrong. And it still is hard for me to get it to fit in with my anti- “sense of entitlement” which I have seen be pretty detrimental, but maybe there’s a difference between the two that I’m just not seeing. Because it’s stated pretty clearly here that to fear him is to expectantly wait for his grace.
I’m thankful for God’s mercy. For his love and his faithfulness. That he brought a situation about for me to see that I’m lacking, learn what, and then also provide the answer. I’m thankful that he draws us nearer to him, and in such a beautiful way.
And as if to say “Relax, it’s okay if you don’t have it all worked out with the faith and the hope and the everything else. My grace is enough”, the Psalm ends in verse 22:
May your mercy, ADONAI, be over us, because we put our hope in you.
Truly, his eyes do watch over us. Even those of us who wait completely improperly due to our ignorance. What a great, awesome God “who fashioned [our] hearts and understands all [we] do” (v. 15).