good faith doesn't always mean life feels good

Today, Bob Goff talks about the reality that having strong faith doesn't always mean life feels good. That's one of the toughest parts of my Christian faith to grasp - this idea that sometimes when life doesn't feel good God is hardest at work in my life.

I think that's because the world we live in is pretty much built on the prospect of feeling good. We want relationships that feel good, a job that makes us feel good, hobbies and pursuits that lead to feeling good. The struggle is the definition of good is constantly changing. What felt good yesterday doesn't feel quite so good today. I can find myself building up a tolerance toward worldly good; I constantly need more good to feel good.

Kind of like a drug.

The other challenge is so much of what we see as good is based on what good looks like in someone else's life. Good is a relative thing.

But God promises He's going to make ALL things good. Even when life feels like it's downright awful - something good is going on. That's so counter-world. It's a radical definition of good - this idea that all things are good.

I frequently look at life through the lens of running. Mainly because it's such a great teacher and parallel to life.

Last year I ran the Land Between the Lakes 60K in Kentucky. It rained hard. Thunder clapped and lighting struck all around us. The trail was muddy and each step was harder to get any kind of footing. In addition, I was trying to run further than I ever had.

So much of that race was a challenge. When it was over - more than 12 hours later - I was nauseous. For the longest time I sat in my hotel room bent over a trash can wanting to die.

I would have never said then what I'll say now: that race was awesome. It was so good!!

I think that's the other challenge with our relationship to good. We're not patient about it. We want a relationship that produces right here and right now - we want this present moment in life to feel good. When it doesn't, when we feel ill, when life feels like it's falling apart, it's hard to buy into the truth that the promise of good IS the good in that moment.

Nothing seems more dismissive of our current pain than the idea someone sees good in it.

I can look back on enough pain in my life, all of which has turned to some kind of good, to know it's not dismissive at all. Hard? Yes. Dismissive? No.

The good is found in the promise. Or more - in the promiser.