My mother is dying. She, the one considered by her friends to be more saintly than Joan of Arc, rails and at times and almost curses the God that she is supposed to adore. She cries to go to heaven, but cannot let go of this earthly realm. There is something that ties her to this earth, something that cannot be dimmed by the promise of seeing God. I think it may be something that she thinks she hasn’t done that must be completed before she can take hold of God’s promises. She no longer has the mental capacity to discern what it might be and nothing has been revealed to her, so she stays in a perpetual state of limbo between this imperfect world and the next.
Does all of her struggling, her prolonged suffering change my view of God? Certainly not, although at times, I question how a life of faith could slowly be eroded away by the aging process. Rather than changing my view,I find it’s much like reading the book of Job. He could not understand what was happening, but his lack of understanding did not change the nature of God.
Although I love my mother, her view of the life of faith and mine differ sharply. Her life has always been and still is based on her works, her ability to please God. That is the view I grew up with: one in which the only worthy Christians were those who went into the ministry or even better yet became missionaries. They were the ones who were daily earning those heavenly stars in their crowns. It’s no surprise that I rejected that perspective and the entire gospel as I grew up. Until, one day I realized that I did not want a life without God, that living without him was like a dessert with no sweetener added. It just didn’t taste right. He was the source of my being and the reason as well. So while I have lived my life trying to please him, that has not been my primary motivation. My goal, as Paul stated so eloquently is to know him. “That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death; – Phil., 3:10 KJV
This desire to know Him and to be known as well, means that he sees and knows all of my inadequacies. He sees them through the eyes of love, through the cross. My works, all my righteous deeds if there are any, are of no consequence. It is only what Christ did on the Cross that has any meaning in the measurement of my life. Although I may never come close to doing all of the good deeds that my mother has done, as long as my life is measured by the work of His Son on the cross, it will be enough.