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When a person asks, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" they might be asking the wrong question. After all, we are no longer in Eden. God created the world, but evil now exists in it.
Today, we will all find bits of heaven and bits of hell. Jesus said, "The Father causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." (Matthew 5:45).
A wiser question might be, "What can I learn from the mud?"
The "mud" reminds us:
1) This world is not our home. A better home awaits us. When we focus all our attention on this temporary realm, we tend to forget that better things are yet to come. We find ourselves sulking over such notions as, "Life has cheated me," rather than, "I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13).
2) God assures us that He is there to pick us up out of the mud. He directs the bear to hibernation, the wolf to a pack, and sets the hummingbird into flight. He remembers the song of the sparrow and provides for them food and nest. And Jesus asked, "Are you not worth more than a sparrow?"
And I have observed that the salvation of most Gentiles takes place while they are in the mud. For those who are helped the most are often those who are grateful the most.
Mud exists. Rain plus dirt yields mud and we have little choice but to live with it. Yet, we do have a choice over how we respond. We can turn to God or curse the mud.
A.W. Tozer once wrote that he doubts God can lift a man before the man falls to his knees. Gentiles take hold of God's hand to lift them from the mud into showers of blessing. They shine with gratitude. But others would rather stew bitterly in the mud. It's a choice.
When we turn to God, He washes us and gives us a fresh set of clothes. If we turn to the mud, we find mostly self-pity, regret and cursing.
I wonder, if I were God, would I allow humans (who find themselves in the mud) to remain there until they call for my help?
After all, if I lifted them from the mud without their consent, they might worship chance or themselves.
But if I wait for them to call and then I help them, they might learn that I am a loving God and that they are my "blessed children." Perhaps this will help them make the better of two choices the next time the mud decorates their knees.
I am grateful I am not God. I know God's thoughts and ways are much higher than mine. But sometimes I believe I catch a glimpse of my Heavenly Father when I observe the actions of my earthly father. When I was a child, I fell off my bike on many occasions. Sometimes I called for my father’s help and he would pick me up to my feet and say to me, "Now dust your self off son and keep trying. You'll get it." Other times my accidents were
quite dreadful. My father would hear my cry, see me in the mud, pick me up and wrap me with his arms before I had the opportunity to call for his help. His compassion for my circumstances was great.
Life will get muddy. It all seems to happen more often than we wish. But if life was never muddy, would we really look for a better place? Heaven? God?
Russell Lingerfelt has a B.S. in Human Development and Family Studies from Auburn University and is currently pursuing a Masters in Divinity at Pepperdine University. He is the author of the book The Warrior of Ephes Dammim: When Teenagers Overcome their Giants.
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