“Your back actually looks pretty good,” the radiologist said. “I don’t see anything requiring surgery.”
The resident therapy dog brushed my leg and looked up with expectant eyes. Instead of petting him, I frowned at the image on the screen.
Wasn’t this MRI supposed to provide answers? If my back looks good, why the chronic pain?
Heart racing, I got up and walked out. The radiologist said he would send the report to my regular doctor so I could follow up later.
For weeks, this appointment had represented a light at the end of a weary tunnel. I was depleted physically and emotionally, ready to enjoy activities that had been deferred for months. After countless appointments with different specialists, I thought, This is it. Now we can make progress. But with the radiologist’s words, I knew there would be more attempts to treat an invisible burden.
Days later, I walked my dog while uttering desperate prayers. I told God I was frustrated. Although I didn’t voice it out loud, another question burdened me: Does He care? Sometimes when I pray these prayers, God throws me a spiritual life vest. But this time, He sent something else: a meteor shower.
My husband is a dedicated stargazer, and he knew this show of wonder was predicted. As we watched the sky light up that evening, I felt God’s embrace.
Sometimes God allows the darkness so His light can be magnified.
In Scripture, few people suffered more than Job. But even as he struggled to understand what was happening to him, he looked at creation and knew two things: God saw him, and God alone was wise.
He lamented, “But do people know where to find wisdom? Where can they find understanding? No one knows where to find it, for it is not found among the living” (Job 28:12-13).
But even though Job was honest with God about his questions, he didn’t let them cloud his view of who God was. He shifted his focus from his desire for deliverance to the Deliverer:
“God alone understands the way to wisdom; he knows where it can be found, for he looks throughout the whole earth and sees everything under the heavens” (Job 28:23-24, NLT).
As I put my head on the pillow that night after witnessing God’s wonder, I sensed Him saying, I know you don’t always see it, but I’m caring for you in more ways than you know.
He puts out fires we may never see. He deflects destruction flying toward us.
While my struggle remained, somehow I felt seen and held right there in the middle of it. And I knew His love reached places beyond those streaks of fire.
God, thank You that nothing we go through escapes Your notice. You see our suffering, and we can come to You with full transparency. When we question Your ways, help us to see who You truly are. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
