On Saturday my oldest son will turn 14.  Last night I was invited to speak to 60 or so young people from BBC's senior high groups about the goodness of God in my life and family through hard times, including Paul's multiple disabilities and Dianne's cancer.

As I walked down the driveway toward where the young people were meeting, I could see them running around and playing and talking and all the normal things that teenagers do.  And this thought ran through my head, "my boy should be here with them."  A dull ache settled into the pit of my stomach at again seeing how different he is from 'normal' boys his age.

This is the kind of 'should' that is filled with entitlement and self-righteousness.  Its corollary is 'he shouldn't be like this,' meaning, he shouldn't be disabled.

Or put another way: God made a mistake when he formed him in his mother's womb the way that he is.  Where do these wicked thoughts come from?  From a pride-filled heart - and one that would be speaking before these young people in just a few minutes.

Fortunately, my friend Kempton Turner suggested we pray before I spoke, and I confessed to these brothers this ache that I was feeling as we prayed along with my desire to say something meaningful to these kids about God and his infinitely good and righteous and generous and just character.  And once again, God provided for me. I was able, with integrity, to speak of God's goodness to me in hard things.  He is truly a faithful helper, even when I don't deserve it.

Ironically, one of the texts I used was from Job 2:9-10:

Then his wife said to him, “Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die.” But he said to her, “You speak as one of the foolish women would speak. Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?” In all this Job did not sin with his lips.

Little did I realize when I was preparing that I needed these words mostly for myself.

So, as Saturday approaches, I am dealing with some sadness that usually comes around the time of his birthday.  The differences between Paul and his same-aged peers grows greater every year.  But someday, thankfully, he and I will stand before Jesus together, and all that God purposed in his life, for God's glory and for my good and Paul's good and dozens or hundreds or thousands of other people's good will be made clear. 

Until then, I trust God's character - he is always good and always right and always just.