So Abraham rose early in the morning and took bread and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar, putting them on her shoulder, and gave her the boy, and sent her away. And she departed and wandered about in the wilderness of Beersheba. When the water in the skin was used up, she left the boy under one of the bushes. Then she went and sat down opposite him, about a bowshot away, for she said, "Do not let me see the boy die." And she sat opposite him, and lifted up her voice and wept. God heard the lad crying; and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, "What is the matter with you, Hagar? Do not fear, for God has heard the voice of the lad where he is. Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him by the hand, for I will make a great nation of him." Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water; and she went and filled the skin with water and gave the lad a drink. God was with the lad, and he grew; and he lived in the wilderness and became an archer. 21 He lived in the wilderness of Paran, and his mother took a wife for him from the land of Egypt. (Genesis 21:14-21 NASB)
This is one of the saddest most pathetic stories in Scripture. Hagar leaves the household of Abraham, again. Only now she hasn't done anything wrong. God told her to go back and submit, and she did. Now here she is again, but innocent. This time her son is with her (he who shall be nameless). Abraham gives them bread and water and sends them off on a donkey. Even before the water runs out, the donkey disappears (oh sure they'll take the donkey back!). But the water does run out.
When the water is gone, Hagar throws the boy under a bush, and goes a distance away because she doesn't want to see her son (the boy) die. It's gut wrenching, dramatic, you almost weep with her it's so sad. She cries out in mourning. Oddly, it seems "the boy" is crying as well, only he's crying out to God; and it works (go figure). God calls long distance from heaven and in His customary gentle, soothing tone, says, "What's the matter with you!" I love that. And before you begin to get all huffy with God, go back and read chapter 16, especially verses 7 through 12.
God called Hagar on her faith. She should have had confidence in God, that He would fulfill His promises to her and "the boy". She had been promised that her son would be the father of a great nation, much like Isaac, only her son would be a "wild donkey man" (okay, so it wasn't all good news). God had promised Hagar, then Abraham, then Abraham again, and now Hagar again. But it's not the promise of God for the future that saves them. It's not such words that she's encouraged to go on and make it some how. The human spirit was not going to persevere beyond the need for water, not this time. God provided their need for water, not just promises of a future.
The reality of their need didn't change because God promised a future. In order to fulfill His promise of a future, God also provided for the present need. This is where I need to camp out for a while. There are a lot of promises of God in Scripture, many that can be claimed by modern believers (and many that can't). I can go on and on about the uncomfortable promises of punishment that apply as well, but that's not where I see the point here. One prominent promise of God is that followers of the King of Kings will one day stand in His presence before His throne and worship. That's a promise which requires some present support.
For me to believe and accept that I will one day stand in His presence and worship Him, I have to believe in a lot of other stuff as well. I also have some needs in the present that have to be met some how. I have to believe in Jesus, that He existed, exists, and has provided for the restoration and preservation of my relationship with my Maker and Master. That's not an option, I have to believe that. I also have to believe that my Master loves me (which is why Jesus accomplished all that stuff). That's warm and fuzzy, and I like that part. But I also have to believe that my Master has my back, that He is my protection. But this is a deceptive belief that requires understanding and acceptance of another belief (it's sort of like a line of dominoes).
I have come to accept that my Master is concerned about my life here and the details of it only to the extent that He can use my life and those details for His kingdom. When He promises to preserve my life eternally, He understands life to mean my relationship with Him, and in no other way. That is what I am promised will never end, not my physical existence here. Here I may find difficulties, pain, sadness, and injustice. He never promised me that I wouldn't.
But because of this promise of an eternal relationship with Him, I have some present needs He also attends to. He takes care of a "bully" that threatens to take me out. Seriously, the adversary and enemy of all humanity can only taunt me through a fence. Sure it's a chain-link fence and it seems awfully close, but it's also tall, topped with serious razor wire, and guarded by the armies of Heaven. My part is not to listen to the taunts (which I have difficulty with). But I live, breathe, and walk through my life behind this impenetrable fence. My relationship with my Master is a life where I walk about in His presence and only the taunts of my enemy can reach my ears, and only then when I listen for them.
Sure, this world in which I experience my life with my Master is hard, but that life with Him is protected by Him. I can engage in all things in this world with the confidence that the fence is secure. He could splash me with gas, toss a match, and still, my life would be safe with my Master (I may be much darker, but my life with my Master would be in tact). When my Master has my back, the important, eternal things are secure. The events of this world are merely taunts of a imprisoned defeated enemy. I just have to turn that male skill of "selective listening" to my advantage and focus on my Master. Which also means I probably should give up control of the various TV remotes. Dang, I hate that.
No comments:
Post a Comment