Circle of Life
“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” —James 1:2-4
A cacophony of cackles shattered the afternoon silence, followed by the moaning trill of a lone hawk. The commotion came from a highpoint on our property. Just as I got up to follow the sounds, the birds swooped low beneath the trees in front of me. The hawk carried a gray squirrel in his talons while five crows jeered and jabbed at his prey, hoping to scavenge a meal. Finally succumbing, the hawk dropped the squirrel.
Hawk and crows parted ways leaving the squirrel dead at my feet. The bushy gray tail fluttered in the wind, but the body lay lifeless having been torn from belly to back by the hawk. The gruesome sight pierced my heart and questions bubbled forth—questions I dared not ask. Instead, I quickly found a shovel and buried the squirrel, unwilling to let either the hawk or crows have their way.
This “circle of life” never fails to disturb me. And questions nagged…
Several days passed before I allowed myself to consider why I felt unraveled. I called the questions forward and considered them one by one. Where was God? Had He turned His back? Why didn’t He protect? Why does He allow such atrocities? I soon realized the questions had nothing to do with birds and rodents and everything to do with humanity.
Where is God when the victim is a child rather than a squirrel, when the predator is a human rather than a hawk?
Satan baited a hook with doubt. Would I bite? No. I turned from his lure, allowing my questions to drift downstream. In faith, I let them go.
I don’t pretend to understand this darker side of God who allows Satan to rule as prince over the earth. Others, who are wiser and more studied than I, have written volumes attempting to explain His mysteries. As for me, I must choose, again and again, to trust the sovereignty of an omnipotent God whose thoughts are higher than my thoughts and whose ways are higher than my ways (Isaiah 55:9). However, that is not a choice I’ve always made.
There was a time when Satan caught me with such questions—a time when my own suffering seemed senseless. In my pain, I turned away from God and took the enticements Satan offered. Instead of burying a squirrel, it was my own head I buried in the sand. Numb and lifeless, I simply existed.
But a day came when I could no longer ignore the word of God firmly rooted in my life since childhood. During a retreat, God touched the small remaining tender spot in my hardening heart and I prayed a prayer that was to change the course of my life. I prayed that I’d feel again…
Slowly and gently, God answered my prayer. I felt love again. I felt joy. And yes, I felt pain. The effects of the trials I’d run from had compounded over the years, and the suffering felt unendurable at times. I was that victimized child, preyed upon by a sick and tormented human, and the wounds seemed as though they’d never heal.
Oh, but God’s glory is unfathomable! It’s the treasure hidden in the trials we endure. His plan of redemption through Jesus Christ offers us a circle of life. Just as Christ was born in a manger, died on a cross, and then cheated death by rising again, we are offered a circle of redemption: from life to death, to new life through Christ.
Our lives in Christ become a series of concentric, redemptive circles. Over and over, through His blood shed on the cross, He takes the pain of sin and offers to replace it with love, liberty and life. Rather than succumb to the doubts Satan casts, we can remember that life is but a circular journey—a journey that leads to eternity where we’ll witness the full revelation of the glory of God.
