when God isn't fair

How simple life would be if justice for me was justice for you. I'd like to think that God should work this way -- He should play by the same rules with every man and woman. And at the risk of sounding like the youngest child that I am, there is little that seems fair about God's justice.

If only I had a clue. I stew about like one of Job's buddies, convincing myself how God should operate. In reality, I am reasoning what life would be like if I was God. The law could suit my desires. The unrighteous would receive what's coming to them. Abusers would never be able to conceive. Authoritarians would never be given the position to lead. Everything would be right if God saw the world the way I do.

My pride so easily succumbs to a false charge of injustice. Men disrespect their wives and children are scarred by selfish parenting. God won't even grant me the opportunity to prove how good I am. I could be the prime model of the Christian husband and father if given the chance. He's clearly not paying attention.

You see, God has given me a prerequisite -- one I've often tried to dismiss -- and I'm supposed to trust that it shouldn't matter that He hasn't given the same command to others:

Almost four years ago, I sat with my discipler and informed him that I wanted to commit to a life of singlehood, and all I needed was for God to remove the desire to marry. I believe that my heart was sincere and genuinely submissive; I was ready to be content with God alone.

Terry looked at me with all the concern of a loving parent and explained that God wasn't going to take that from me. He reasoned how contradictory it would be for God to remove the physical representation of His covenant from one that spiritually expresses himself through a romantic heart.

I couldn't argue with the logic, but this did nothing to provide an explanation for why God would have me wait. If He acknowledges that my flooding heart is good, then why waste a moment in sharing it?

The second answer was harder to swallow: "God is not going to allow you to lead her until you accept His call to lead the church. She's going to be a strong woman, and she will need a man that is willing to be stronger in leading, serving, and protecting her."

My initial conclusion was that this was total B.S. I had long since decided that I would marry some tame, soft-spoken, meek woman of God that would gladly pass on the chance to lead and hang on my word. I mean, opposites attract...right?

Except when they don't. I had to recollect the excruciating history of ex-girlfriends to discover that every one of them was as crazy reckless as I am. What the hell's the matter with me? Shouldn't I be able to logically determine the appropriate characteristics of my own wife? If some 20-year-old kid can figure this stuff out, why is it such a mystery to me?

I had to consider: what if Terry is right? What if the continual suppression of my spiritual gifts disqualifies me from His most amazing blessing? What if she needs this from me? What if she's confident, stubborn, and dangerously romantic and needs the guy who can love and guard that heart all at once? What if we both need a partner that can keep up with everything God is doing?

Terry's words scare the crap out of me. It's a tough expectation for me to step away from my fear. Would God be so cruel to present me an ultimatum? I know that I'm looking at it all wrong...would my Father be so good as to tie this awesome blessing to one faithful act?

If so, God must be as anxious as I am. While I stare in the mirror and convince myself that I can't, my Father comforts me with the truth: "I AM." It's no longer an argument of what is fair or just, or even whether I am fit to lead. The intimate act He craves is for me to allow the demonstration of His glory through my weakness.