How Can I Be Sure?

Zechariah’s question haunts me. After he was told about the imminent birth of his son–to be named John, the one who would go before and announce the Messiah’s mission here on earth–Zechariah asked the fateful question, “How can I be sure?” Clearly he did so in disbelief, because Gabriel responded authoritatively, with disciplinary consequence: “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God….and now you will be silent and not able to speak…because you did not believe.”

But God…his wife Elizabeth was “well along in years,” and barren. Surely Zechariah was somewhat justified in asking for proof? For assurances? I guess my heart–after too much pain in this often harsh world–realizes there are no assurances for much of anything besides the old sage’s guarantees of death and taxes. So even though I know the “leap of faith” is the only thing I can cling to for all that God promises, my sinful heart still longs for…assurances.

Maybe your heart longs for assurances that…

*My job loss won’t be for long, and God will provide an even better position

*My (or my spouse’s, child’s, parent’s, friend’s) cancer will go into remission, permanently

*My heart will heal after this pain-filled divorce, and…

*My marriage will be healed or

*Another will come to love me, and I will love him/her

*My prodigal child will return to God…and to me

*My children will all grow up to love and serve God faithfully

*The conflict between my spouse and me will lift, and we will once again find happiness and recommitment

My list could go on and on, couldn’t it? But once again we return to that leap of faith. Faith, by its very nature, means there is no tangible proof for all that God says is so.

Forgiveness

Grace

Mercy

Righteousness

Justification

Heaven

Resurrection

Rain is nearly a daily occurrence here in Portland, and today’s 100% probability meant there was little chance Maddy and I could do our daily walk up Mt. Scott. Amazingly, however, I  noted a clearing to the west, and I quickly hustled Maddy and me out the door. How can I be sure? echoed in my mind as I trudged up the steep incline, teasing me, taunting me. Will I truly see Robb again? my heart asked God. Will I hear his voice? Feel his hug? Will I again know the sweetness that was Robb’s spirit? It’s only through faith…and hope, I told myself; that’s all I can cling to.

And then the sun came out.

What a joyous symbol of hope–on a day of 100% predicted rain…sun. Shining on my face, filling my heart. Teaching me to cling to my hope, always, but knowing too that even those rays of sun cannot be clutched, held, tucked into my pocket like a guarantee. I cannot hold the sun in my hand anymore than I can grab at my hope in resurrection, in seeing my precious son again. No assurances Carolyn, and yet.

I’m fragile these days, counting down to the 23rd. I miss my Robb so desperately this year; my grief is sharper, heavier, more present. Like Zechariah, I have no assurances. Only belief…faith…and hope will ultimately carry me through this pain-filled time of remembrance. But the timely reminder–thank you, my God–floods me with his love. When I lift my face to the sun, the Son shines on me too.

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