I've never actually been genuinely angry at God. Oh yes, I've had those "Really God? What are you doing?" moments, but on Friday, I was raging. It was only for a fraction of my day, but it was enough to draw me away from him and begin to doubt the promises he has already fulfilled in my life and those he will continue to be faithful with.
We had been praying as a small group for weeks that this little baby would be a girl. In a matter of 24 hours, we found ourselves back at their house, praying that this little baby would resurrect from the dead.
The parents didn't take the doctor's word as the final answer. They would bring it to Jesus for the next few days and see what he had to say about it.
Everything pointed to a resurrection. The name they chose twelve years ago: Anastasia, which means "resurrection." Prophetic words spoken over the couple, and her womb ten years ago. Encouraging words given three weeks ago, the time the baby supposedly died. The room full of hopeful prayers that night, as the mother sat with the most peaceful smile on her face. There was an expectancy and anticipation in that room. There was joy that overcame the mourning. There was hope in the power of Christ; the same power that rose Christ from the dead felt so available at our very fingertips.
All for His glory.
We truly believed Anastasia would live.
We truly believed this would launch something huge in our church and throughout the state.
We truly believed this little baby would be born and grow to be a witness of God's power and compassion to the nations.
But on Friday, the heart didn't start. The baby remained dead. Three ultrasounds that day, just to make sure.
And I was angry.
"God is still good, but they did miscarry", the messenger told me on the phone.
God is still good, huh?
I didn't believe it.
How come, when Jesus was on this earth, he healed everyone who asked? How come now, when we have the promise that we will see greater things than these, a room full of Christ followers, declaring new life in Jesus' name shows no results?
How come a plane lands flawlessly in the middle of a river without a single casualty, and then just a few weeks later, a plane crashes into a house with no survivors?
But God is bigger than all of this. If we understood all of his facets, he wouldn't be God.
I had to put away my anger, and praise him for the boldness he has instilled in our church over the past three years. The fact that we were able to meet as a group and actually ask him for something so huge is well...huge.
Bill Johnson tells of his church (which sees miraculous healings and resurrections on a regular basis) that they had to fight to get to where they are. They saw plenty of failures in the process. Over the years they have seen numerous babies who have been declared dead in the womb, resurrect from the dead. But what has hidden in the shadows is the story of one of the pastor's wives who many years ago (before they began seeing regular healings) had a miscarriage, and even after intense praying, the baby remained dead.
But their failures became their victories. Instead of choosing the path of anger and discouragement, you begin to pray more fervently as you become even more desperate to see his glory. As you find yourself crying out to God even more, you're able to see his heart clearer. It's that alignment that reveals His kingdom on earth.
And who knows. The story isn't over yet.
No matter what the ultimate outcome of Anastasia's life, she will be a testimony. The way God rose her from the dead, or the way He used her to instill a strong faith in a small Sunday night church community to ask Him for anything and keep seeking for his heart.
And besides, the fetus is still in the womb. There's still hope.
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