But They Laughed At Him

It strikes me as mildly ironic that a moment of sharp clarity arrived on this foggy morning.  While the dreamy mist outside hovered around the aspen leaves, one small sentence in the gospel of Matthew arrowed straight into my heart.

"But they laughed at him."  Those words in Matthew 9:24 might as well have been in all caps and a bold font for the way they popped from the page.  The context is the story of a ruler who petitioned Jesus to come heal his already dead daughter.  The ruler's faith is intensely exemplary because he understood who Jesus Christ was.  Perhaps he had seen other miracles or had simply heard of them, but he knew and believed that death was no obstacle for the Son of God.  Should Christ choose to say the word for her revival, his daughter would breathe again.  Such steady faith brought Jesus to the ruler's house.

Yet, the house was filled with scoffers, those who were bitter, unbelieving and audacious enough to laugh in the face of the Messiah.  There is really no other way to interpret the laughter of that moment.  There was no mirth, no joyful spirit to prompt such a reaction.  The laughter was not already freely flowing.  No, this laughter was out of mocking incredulity. 

Interestingly, Jesus asked the others to leave before they even demonstrated this negative response.  My best guess is that Jesus already knew their hearts and knew that they didn't believe.  Then, when he told them that the daughter was not dead but alive, they mocked Him as any logical human being would.  Why would one believe what is obviously untrue?  Yet, the ruler had.  The ruler had looked at facts and believed the impossible.  What is the difference between the scoffers and the ruler?

The difference is that the ruler knew who Jesus was and believed.  The others no doubt knew who Jesus was as well and had likely experienced the same exposure to Christ and His work as the ruler had.  Yet, they refused to believe or to have any faith in the Messiah Who had already proven His immense power and authority.  The result?  They missed out on witnessing a miracle. 

How sad this is!  What damage we incur when we do not have faith!  Yet, as I read this story, I could hardly be condescending toward those who laughed.  After all, the girl was dead!!!  It was an impossible situation, was it not?  Yes, they knew of Jesus' power, but surely He would not heal this girl!  That was their thinking, not so unlike my own in so many ways.

If given a choice, I would choose to be like the ruler.  I would choose to have logic-defying faith in the transcendent Lord of the universe.  If given a choice, I would never laugh in the face of my gracious Savior who has proven faithful over and over again.  But wait.  I do have a choice!  How is it that I demonstrate fear, worry, and unbelief so often instead of a simple faith in the God of the impossible?  I don't know, but I am deeply convicted.

I don't want to miss out on the miracles of Christ in my own life and in the lives of those around me.  I don't want to miss out on the power that He so readily demonstrates to those who believe Him at His Word.  I don't want to be put out of the house because I ridiculed the God who created me.  I want to be like the ruler and not like the scoffers.  As this foggy morning carries on, I pray that it may be so.  

On Flipping Decades

I remember the first time I watched that monumentally ridiculous chick flick 13-going-on-30.  I remember pondering just how old 30 seemed to be.  It loomed as a distant age residing far away in the murky future.  The mystery of who I would be by the time I actually arrived there was an enigma indeed.  The prospect of being so "old" felt no more real than Frodo and the land of hobbits and elves.

Crazily enough, that day has arrived.  The time for flipping decades and closing a chapter of my life has come.  In some ways, it strikes me as silly that we mark our lives by numbers and assign some sort of weight to age.  Yet, we are human and age does not leave us unscathed in the experience of this world.  Time does pass and our lives and bodies tell the story of years gone by.  We cannot bear the same youth that we did a decade ago.  This truth makes the acknowledgment of time and age vividly relevant.  It is fitting that we understand the imprinting power of time.  However, contrary to what the birthday card industry might indicate, this need not be a woeful thing.

The older I get, the more deeply profound life becomes.  I feel more aware than ever of the absolute desolation of a fallen world.  Yet, I see more clearly the redemptive work of a powerful God in the lives and stories of those who trust Him.  The bittersweet richness of life roots deeper in my soul than it did when I was 20.  In thinking of my great uncle, who is going to turn 103 this year and celebrate his 80th wedding anniversary with his wife in a few days, I wonder just how deep his root system has burrowed compared to mine.  I cannot comprehend it, but this is what makes getting old an incredibly exciting journey.  There is no other way to gain poignant insights and a multi-faceted understanding of life than to live and to let years and experience teach.

So it is that I will enjoy this day and think on all that God has given me in 30 brief years.  I am humbled by His grace and power in my life and am endlessly thankful that I can journey confidently on, knowing that no matter how much time is left for me here, I have a loving Savior who is guiding and guarding my way.  What a glorious truth.  I am ready to dig these roots deeper still.