SUPER HERO

     I see the wrong, and feel the sting of false accusation, the despair of the captive hearts of those I love , or watch the children suffer as the ads for places of healing for the tiny ones roll across my screen and i think myself a super hero.  I cry out to God and say,  "Where are you?", "It's not fair!" and "Sic em, God."  The frustration of seeing the messed up, twisted, painful realities of our world makes me want to dictate the timing, administer the justice and take revenge on the attacker.  And that is my own ugly twisted heart sinning along side. 

        Mine is the call to encourage and give aid to the suffering but His is the super hero power to change a heart. His is the decision to provide the justice here or in the after.  His is the choice to perfect through the sting instead of always through the blessing of peace.  His is the power to make it happen, for He is the super hero and I am his servant.  But still I rail and stuff bitterness and doubt His presence.   That makes me the super hero who judges the end from the beginning as I fly over time and space.  I feign to know the timing and the nature of just reward while directing mental heat rays at those I judge.  And I imagine I see the need of every heart with my x-ray vision.  Super-me tells God what He should be doing and then creates kryptonite gemstones of bitterness, skepticism and sinful doubt to ensnare my own heart. I can not see Him work it out my way,  and so I doubt His care and presence and surrender my post.   My super powers overwhelm me with weakness and I lose hope and even compassion for those whose sin I do not see equal to my own. 

     But then I finally go into my phone booth of prayer and scripture and am temporarily transformed into frail human leaning on Him for my strength, my perception changed by His truth.  And I come out of my booth ready to trust again and ready to see them as myself, in need of loosened bonds, corrected vision, compassionate care and grace.  And I can remain the servant who leaves the final word and healing to Him, but still ministers the ointment in word and deed as He leads.  And the sadness and anger stay in their divinely designed place of motivator to serve Him and them,  and  to clean up my own contribution to this dark side of His world.  This balance of powerful servant and powerless heart mender mixes me up and brings me down without the recharging power of His word to reset and restore.  And I sing "Be thou my vision...." with renewed vigor amidst my world, our world , of sin and sun and saints.   One day my vision will be constant and clear and no need for a energizing booth, for He will be my vision without webs of self and sin to mar my window.  And He my only hero.

 

                                               Why do you complain, Jacob?
                       Why do you say, Israel,
                                        “My way is hidden from the Lord;
                    my cause is disregarded by my God”?
                                                                                  Do you not know?
                         Have you not heard?
                                  The Lord is the everlasting God,
                    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
                                    He will not grow tired or weary,
                  and his understanding no one can fathom.
                                                                      He gives strength to the weary
                    and increases the power of the weak.
                                                                                      Even youths grow tired and weary,
                      and young men stumble and fall;
                                                                      but those who hope in the Lord
                   will renew their strength.  Is. 40:27-31