Fire ants are in the grass and stinging flying creatures circle the roses.

You know Mrs. Dorsey.  Everyone knows Mrs. Dorsey. God especially knows Mrs. Dorsey. She chatters with Him throughout the day. Her Bible is the King James Version. Her familiarity with the Book comes from her childhood. She practically knows it by heart. Her copy—most likely not her first—shows extreme wear. The cover has a faded area on the front and the back—connected by the worn spine—where her hands have lightly touched time after time, when she opens it on her lap.

You can’t see the calluses on her knees for the length of the hem on her dress. Her rough knees come from years of showing her gratitude to God and pleading to Him on behalf of others. Like Abraham, everyone knows—without asking—she is a friend of God.

When I met Mrs. Dorsey, our blond-hair, blue-eye, newborn twin, plagued day and night by seizures, hurt the very core of our hearts. The diagnosis was in. First from a neuropediatrician, then from a pediatrician at a neonatal unit of a large research hospital, the answers did not provide hope. Physical examinations, electronic brain scans, research studies, and collective wisdom declared a bleak prognosis. Not only would Jay not walk—most likely—he would live out his life without awareness of his surrounding and of the people who loved him most.

Such a bleak prognosis did not faze Mrs. Dorsey. Each time we met, we received her reaffirmation that Jay would be well. She was pleading to God on his behalf. Rest assured, he was to be healed.

We loved Mrs. Dorsey but did not buy what she was selling. We had seen the medical exams, understood the medical prognosis, and even though we were young, we had experienced enough in life to see that rain and sorrow fall on the just and unjust. It seemed to me—”life ain’t fair”—and we were exhibit A.

I began to express my growing feeling—there are things God can’t do—His cuffed hands are unable to act. That was not an acceptable answer to Mrs. Dorsey.

Those exchanges with Mrs. Dorsey took place thirty-five years ago. Twenty-one years later, our family surrounded the coffin as we buried our little boy.

The same question faces each of us as we encounter life. Even though I am a Believer, and trust my life to God, and His Son Jesus, was Mrs. Dorsey right or did my unbelief in the possibility of a miraculous act stop God from intervening? Is it possible that God’s tied hands prohibit Him from acting, thus resulting in the unfairness we experience in life?

Since that time with Jay, and Mrs. Dorsey, I began to see there are things God cannot do—at least not yet—His tied hands cannot respond.

Let me be clear. Once again, I reflect beyond my understanding.

I don’t understand in any detail how Satan came to be. It is beyond my comprehension why God allows Satan to roam the earth like a lion in search of prey.

In Scripture, the Book of Revelation speaks of God’s final judgment against Satan prior to the inauguration of the new garden.  I do not understand the code language of the book, however, as he introduces the new creation, one conclusion I can reach with certainty is that the entire tenor of Scripture is moving history toward God’s restored perfect garden. God will break the rope from His own hands and bind forever Satan. This final act will destroy the Devil’s power.

Until that time, if I should jump from an airplane without a parachute, I will die. God can’t save me. Because of sin entering the world, if I get in water over my head, I can drown. If my car hits a truck or a tree, I can die. If my son dies from an incurable disease, even as much as God loves him, the Creator can only cry with me. Satan is loose for now. God’s tied hands cannot yet act.

Next time I will look for the green, manicured grass and the sweet scent of roses. As a follower of Jesus, I can experience the grass and roses while on earth. What are your reflections? Stay tuned. – Gary Sorrells