Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought.And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’
“For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think,yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’”
And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says.And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off?I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”
This parable was shared at church on Sunday during a sermon on praying "in your time, in your way God," and I walked away a little broken and a little confused, wrestling with this notion of justice. I read the passage about those who cry out to God night and day and was immediately transported back to the week of July 11th, 2010, when I cried out night and day for days for the life of my baby, and my heart cries out "where was my justice?" In the deepest, darkest places of my soul I wanted to understand this justice and I couldn't. I wanted to comprehend the whats and the whys, where my story and my baby fit into this concept of justice, and I couldn't. I wanted to understand what justice means to a God whose son died on the cross to pardon my sins when I am so undeserving, yet allows such tragedy to fall through His hands and into my heart, but I couldn't. So I sat with my journal, and I sat with my feelings, and I sat with my God and I cried, in my misunderstanding and in my confusion, I cried for myself and I cried for my child and I cried for (what felt like) my injustice. And maybe I cried a little because I may never understand, because there is a part of my Abba's heart that I can't possibly comprehend, and maybe I cried because after all of these years I'm not done grieving and I might not be done asking questions. And I kept asking questions:
What do I know of justice?
What do I understand of your ways?
How can I comprehend your actions?
How can I grasp your decisions?
How can I possibly understand why you do what you do?
But in your time God and in your way
I will leave my questions at your feet.
Because you have called me deeper than my own understanding,