The Tempest

edited from The North Face of God by Ken Gire, Chapter 1

Often, our prayers are simple: seeking God's blessings.  Or they are prayers of gratitude, thanking God for the dew-dropped wonder of the world we live in - a world full of sunshine, or at least rainbows amid the rain. 

But then one day something happens.  Clouds rush in, riding on gale-force winds that threaten to blow us off the mountain.  The fury of the tempest seems so personal, and it's all we can do to hunker down and hang on.

Suddenly the world seems less certain, our lives less safe... 

Life will never be the same.  A part will always be wounded, always be sad, always empty.  That moment of tragedy will forever leech color from every other moment in life - not just the moments that lie ahead but also all that lie behind, for the happiness once felt is forever altered by the sadness of all that was lost, that was cut short, that will never be.

What should a child do when he asks his father for something to eat, and the father hands him a snake?  Can we blame him for jumping back with an astonished look on his face?  The only way a child can gain understanding of such a circumstance is if he asks honest and heartfelt questions.  To avoid the stress that strong emotions bring - to avoid the disappointment and the despair that loss may bring - by denying these emotions we are denying our humanity.  How can one be human and not have strong emotions in the face of heart-wrenching losses?  And how can those emotions not raise questions? 

Our prayers are not something we string out to flap in the wind, hoping a sudden gust lifts our words to some benevolent deity.  They are so much more substantial.  They are full of wonder and gratitude, curiosity and concern, joy and sorrow.

And questions.

We raise ourselves to God by the questions we ask.  

Give us the strength to ask the right questions.

I know You care about what happens here in this world.  You created it.  You sustain it.  You sent Your Son to die for it.  We sometimes feel like children in a world that has turned scary with shadows and we can't find our way home.  

Please be patient with all our questions, especially with the ones that seem so childish.

And grant that in our faltering prayers we might stumble across a question that leads us closer to You.