Bed of Roses


Bed of Roses

When we are broken physically, mentally, emotionally, people wonder, hint, or rudely say “If God is there, and like you say He is, why doesn’t He fix you?”   We might begin to think we have nothing to offer as testimony because it “didn’t work” for us.

Or, in church, they sing hymns like “now I am happy all the day…..” And you wonder why YOU aren’t happy all the day now that you know Jesus. Well, Grasshopper, it is the biggest misunderstanding in Christendom since “name it and claim it.” The main thing the world got UPSIDE DOWN.

Did Jesus say “Blessed are the perky, pretty, and prosperous”?

No, He did not.

He said “Blessed are the meek, the poor, the persecuted.”

Did He say if you believed in Him life would be a bed a roses?

No He did not. He said we would “participate in the fellowship of His suffering.”

If you are a misfit because you are poor or crippled or mentally ill, take heart. It is not you who has somehow missed the deep mystery of the “gospel.” It is the world. You are closer to the heart and mystery of Jesus’ mission than you know.

If you are plain or deformed or toothless or homeless or some socially unacceptable thing, take heart. Your time has not yet come and God is working more miracles in you than you know.

When I was 2, I wanted to take off the hot plastic pants I wore over the soggy wet diapers.

When I was 8, I wanted the Miss Elizabeth doll with the tiny shoes and purses and bride gown.

When I was 13, I wanted a pink and black motorcycle and matching pink and black outfit.

When I was 17, I wanted a boyfriend.

When I was 21, I wanted a job that was fun and made a lot of money.

When I was 23, I wanted to have a big wedding.

When I was 30, I wanted to travel.

Not one of those things do I want anymore. Some were blessings, some stupid adolescent ideas. Some were fulfilled, some weren’t. Some made my life better, some nearly tanked it.

I’m just sayin…we always want stuff. Sometimes we even get it. But we never know what’s best until later.

But we can choose to trust Him to love us enough to do what’s best for us, even when we don’t know what that is. Or like it.

God has a higher purpose for us than we do for ourselves. His is “forever,” while we can’t even delay gratification an hour. But when we choose His way instead of our own we get to see the miracles we were hoping for all along.

There Will Come a Time

–The Patron Saint of Misfits

There will come a time,

transformed by Perfect Love,

when your gratitude will turn into praise,

your faith into works of love.

A time where you will want to give

the love you wanted so much to get.

When you can trust instead of hide.

When the people who fail you will show you their wounds,

and you will see for the first time

that you are not bleeding alone.

There will come a time

when you will trust Love in spite of pain,

smell peace near the fires of tragedy,

when you will recognize God’s scent in all goodness—

a child’s hand in yours, a stranger’s smile,

music through an open window.

And you will whisper “I love you, Lord,”

and know it is true.

You will no longer think God is dull and boring

because church can be dull and boring.

You will no longer think He is critical because His people can be critical. You will discover that knowing Him is purer joy

than knowing about Him.

That prayer is a relationship, not a shopping list.

That you can trust His love.

A million baby steps, taken in faith,

will take you there.

To that time.

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