"Jesus and his disciples left Galilee and went up to the villages near Caesarea Philippi. As they were walking along, he asked them, “Who do people say I am?”
“Well,” they replied, “some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, and others say you are one of the other prophets.”
Then he asked them, “But who do you say I am?”
Peter replied, “You are the Messiah."
Matthew 16:13-20
When fear grips me in the depths of depravity and long suffering takes its toll, I can often be deceived into thinking that I am trapped in a prison I cannot escape. A prisoner to a circumstance that I have no say over. Bound to the belief that I’ll never again go outside. Shackled to this reckless rattling of doubt in my mind. Chained up to all the uncontrollable darkness that’s been burrowed deep down. As I continued residing in the shadow, I plead desperately to my God in heaven, “Wipe this all away.”
Out of fear, anger, and panic I cry out to God. “God, you can’t leave me like this. This cannot be me now.
How can I go on knowing my life will be cut short.
How can I go on knowing that I may never think clearly again.
I will never be the same.
I will be forever damaged.
I suppose this will be my fate.”
I can’t feel a thing but darkness and confusion line my body, my mind, and my spirit. Darkened walls surround me and I feel suffocated by the beat of my own heart.
But then Jesus says, “Who do you say I am?”
A very simple message preached at my church one Sunday morning.
“Who do you say I am?”
I have never been one to question God.
I have wondered, but never really questioned God’s intentions. But recently out of curiosity, I ask, why after so much?
For those of us who have tasted long suffering we know it makes us weary.
This battle has drug me to complete exhaustion. The constant and ungraceful current attempts to steal me from hope. The viscous and unforgiving waves keep coming. They one by one, knock me down and pull me under. And without a moment to catch my breath another wave pulls me under once again.
I often question, how long will the waves keep dragging me down with no relief?
Because after a while, the things that I have found relief and solace in the midst of the storm no longer provide the same sort of assistance. Day by day, the light and hope I try to find in every single moment becomes a little bit darker and slips a little further away.
A thought I often have is that maybe someday I’ll be able to enjoy the sun because you’ve given it to me instead of basking in its light because of the pain the cold has caused. Is it possible for me to lay down in green pastures without needing to walk through a shadow of death constantly? Maybe someday instead of endlessly searching for the streams of joy amidst the desert, I could have lands flowing with milk and honey. Rivers of blessing and healing running through my life. Could I ever actually experience the relief and restoration my heart desires?
There have been so many times I have seen the handy work of God written upon every aspect of my life, while there are moments where I cower in panic crying out to God, “Where are you?” Just as Jesus did so many years ago when he said, “My God my God, why have you forsaken me(Matthew 27:28)” right before he was murdered.
But I continue to hear that voice from heaven whispering to me in my questioning. In the midst of my honest confusion as to what is happening, he says, “Who do you say I am?”
Jesus said those words to his disciples to remind them that no matter what... if God is who He says He is and if He truly is our Savior, Healer, Provider, Comforter, and Creator, then that is who He will remain. Regardless of the changes in circumstances that make no sense to what you thought God’s plan would look like, He still is who he says He is.
He is still working, ordering, arranging, protecting, and blessing my life.
He has proven Himself to be a strong tower. A stability in the midst of all my instability. God has so much grace and love for us in the midst of our lack of faith in Him and His word. He is good to answer and bring security through His Holy Spirit and His Word. And as that darkness surrounds me in the midst of my sorrow, my God allows me to grieve. He allows me to feel bad for myself at times because He Himself has been pushed to the point where He has said, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.”
In all honesty, this new closeness with death has given me a deeper and transcendent view on Christ’s suffering. My recollection of Christ’s crucifixion is no longer just academic. I myself have begun to walk through and taste this process. You know, it’s sad... most people, most believers will never truly appreciate Christ’s death on the cross until they walk through death themselves. And I don’t believe it is possible to truly understand unless you’ve walked that road.
And yet, I call to remembrance Jesus saying to the disciples, “Who do you say that I am.” Those words are a constant reminder of my unchanging God and His unchanging promises. Things may look like they are changing on this side of eternity when our circumstances and our fate do not line up with what we thought His promises would look like. But, I know that healing still means healing. Rejoicing still means rejoicing, blessing still means blessing. And while I still hold space for all of this to look the way we’d thought it would look, I must acknowledge that there is a possibility that it may not look that way. At least right now, God had called me to a certain amount of acceptance so that I can still, in the midst of my changed plans and altered timeline say just as the disciples answered Jesus, “Lord, you are who you say you are.”
No matter the hurt. No matter the suffering. No matter the potential of what life will look like in the future, He is who He says He is! He has come to do what He said He was going to do. Through all He has done for me I cannot doubt that.
So in the meantime I’m reminded that my Savior has control of this entire situation.
But the Lord says, “I do all things. My hand is in all things.”
The pouring out of springs of joy in the midst of this suffering have given me a thirst for something greater! Eternity. They have shown me a tiny taste of the blessing we will have when we are called home. When I will trade my failing and temporary body for a heavenly one. Whether that’s tomorrow or 50 years from now, both my joy and suffering have shown me how badly I want that. How desperately I want to be with Him. My heart yearns to fall into His arms.
But until then, amidst the fear and anxiety I feel. Underneath the aching of my heart, I must—no, we must find the courage to trust that God is who He says He is. I promise you, I am not led by a blind faith. My God has proven Himself to me time and time again. He has proven Himself to generations and generations before me. Although I do not deserve it, He gives assurance, peace, comfort, and healing. He brings relief at the moment we need it most. And He is doing that for me right now. And I pray from the bottom of my heart daily that He is doing that for each one of you amidst your struggles, healing, and blessing. That the Holy Spirit would be a comfort to all of God’s children in times of need. We must not forget to call on Him.
But when the Lord asks in response to our lamenting, “Who do you say I am?” What will your response be?
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