My nephew has, what we would call, disabilities. Among all those visible to the onlooker, there's one that is now the most significant...cancer.
For all of his twenty plus years of life, his parents have carried him, changed his diapers, sat next to him in ambulances more times than I can count, endured long hospital stays, and raised two other boys alongside their own jobs and the everyday life that comes with caring for Sweet Evan's needs. I honestly can't imagine what life looks like behind the walls of their home, but for all the times I have been allowed to look into their day-to-day moments, I've never seen two people handle it with more grace.
As I'm reading through the Book of Job this morning, preparing tomorrow's lesson to the group of women who will sit in my class, I am reminded once again of Job's cries to the God he sees as unfair. Job is suffering, and God is watching, and it cannot be anything else in his suffering mind than unjust.
Job's cries are different from David's in the Psalms, where the king's laments come from the persecution of his enemies (Saul, for one), and the knowledge that the wicked prosper while the righteous don't.
But Job's complaints aren't coming from the wounds of other men; his suffering comes from God, and he knows it. Job does not understand why a good God would do nothing. And isn't that the question? Why, when one is as innocent as Job (even God calls him "blameless and upright, fearing God and turning away from evil") would God allow this kind of suffering?
That question is a little easier to answer when you look at Job's complaints in Scripture, right alongside all of the thousands of verses that remind us that the heart of man is desperately wicked, and that there are none righteous...not even one. But when you look at Sweet Evan? When you listen intently to try and discern the broken words that struggle to bring understanding to the strained ear, and when you see that Sweet Evan smile all over his Sweet Evan face, and you don't hear even one complaint coming from his fractured body,....the question of "Why?" comes with much more depth.
"Why this one, Lord? Why, when there are so many in this world deserving of Your judgment, would You allow this one to suffer?"
In the midst of all of my wrestling thoughts,and my cries to God in prayer on his behalf, this one breaks through to the front: I really don't think Sweet Evan is asking that same question. You see, every time I see his smile, and hear his excited voice coming through his Bobbie's evening Facetime visits, all I hear is happy. All I see is happy. All I'm left with after an encounter with Sweet Evan is his happy.
No questions. No complaints to God. No bitter words. Just Sweet Evan's happy.
It's something. When we look at him, we wouldn't ask for any of his "disabilities". But there's one thing I wish the whole world had that Sweet Evan carries with him every single day...and that is happy.
So for today, can we just choose to be happy? Despite all the things we could complain about, can we be intentional with our happy?
I can promise you this, Sweet Evan will be, and that's enough for me to choose the same.
