Faith in God and its Effects on My Hope

Oh, how my soul faints for God. I crave the majesty, the beauty, the perfection which He has so generously used in his creation of this world, and of us. And yet, the world has drifted so far that what I lack can no longer be found here on Earth; indeed it can only be found in God, and he is absent from our sight if not from our lives. As my friend once told me, the hole in our souls is a God-shaped hole, and it will be filled with nothing less, desperate though we may be to fill it. It comforts me to know that this longing is natural, that, in fact, a lack of longing would be unnatural for any creation of the Father’s, born into a world so divorced from Him. I mourn that divorce, and I pray for the day of reconciliation, almost as much as I long for a place filled with God, where everything that is not God is cast aside. And yet, what have I ever done to bring that hope to this world? When have I banished from my life something whose only offense is to be lacking God? I cannot honestly confess to a time I have done so. I see clearly that I am seeking to find God’s qualities in things that have no God in them; they are not inherently bad, but they have been separated from the light that might otherwise fill the desires of my heart. I yearn for something which I am not willing to lift a hand to bring about; I yearn for the work and the decisions to be taken from me, so that the weight I feel, whether in actuality it exists or not, would be lifted. And it is here that my thoughts turn from God to that which lacks God. For God is omnipresent, and omnipotent; with a God like that ruling my universe, using even murder and rape to further His kingdom, how can I fear? And yet, my hearts cries out that it fears that very same rape and murder which God can turn to His kingdom. It is clear to me that God can protect us from every terrible thing, and that he does not. I whole-heartedly believe that God does comfort those who seek comfort from Him, but for the sake of our willingly choosing to follow Him, and that He may be seen to overcome our failings, and be even more greatly glorified for it, He has chosen to allow evil into our world. And so, we may have a loving and just God whom we steadfastly follow, and we may still be tortured and molested and hurt. What turns my thoughts back to the God I still lovingly follow is that our God is one who knows the pains we suffer, and never leaves us alone with them. Manes, the founder of the Manichee religion in the Middle Ages, believed there could be no death on the cross or virgin birth for God, because “the flesh was tainted with evil and any association with it was unworthy of god.” I agree completely with his beliefs in the unworthiness of the flesh; if Christ had to come to our level to save his flesh-bound creations, then how could our flesh be worthy of holding even the slightest part of God in it? But it is the sacrifice of living a human life, as much as that of dying a human death, which makes our God so worthy to be praised, so beyond what we would ever hope for in a God, had he not already fulfilled our every need. Our God is a God who saves, and though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, which for me, today, is fear, I shall fear no evil, for my God is risen indeed, and death has lost its sting. Rejoice! Again, I say unto you, rejoice! For our Savior has come, and he has drawn back the veil from our eyes, and he has bought us freedom through his death, and inheritance through his life. It is around this fact, so simply explained, that my life revolves in its best moments. He is risen! And He loves me, and He has power and control over this world, even with its free will, and therefore, there is nothing to fear, or be uncertain about, for God reigns on high.