Well if you’re going to ask again, I guess I’ll reply again.
My left hand was mangled in an accident in 2010. All that’s left of my index finger is a short stub, amputated about halfway between my hand and the first knuckle of the finger. My other three fingers were affected as well, but it’s my missing index finger that people seem to notice first.
Anyway, why hasn’t God regrown a new and beautiful new finger? I mean, He could easily do that at any moment. Of course, I could also ask why He didn’t protect me in the first place and not allow my hand to be injured. After all, I am a musician, and I was using my gift to play at masses at my parish.
To be honest, these are important questions – Why doesn’t God heal? Why does God allow suffering, even among His own children? – and entire books have been written on the subjects. But as you are proving by asking again, some people will never be satisfied with the answer.
Personally, by God’s grace, I never asked God either of those questions. I just accepted it and moved on.
But I have considered over the years the impact it would have on my community if God did suddenly restore my hand. There would be no way to “fake” a cure of my hand through any kind of surgery, and there are certainly doctor’s and surgeon’s records to verify the damage done to all four fingers.
So if God presented a miracle of this sort to the hundreds and hundreds of people in my immediate circle, each and every one of them would be required to make a choice regarding the sign with which God had presented them.
Think about it. Every student of mine, every colleague, every neighbor, every parent of my students – regardless of their faith – would have an undeniable sign of God’s power. What if they then rejected God in spite of that sign? What if they were not yet ready to turn away from sin and follow Christ? “The one to whom more is given, more is required.”
And good heavens, what about my kindgergartners and first graders who don’t know that fingers cannot grow back? Would they see this miracle and think, “I’m going to go smash my little brother’s fingers in the door and watch them grow back”?
Seriously, my mangled hand has been used by God as a much more subtle witness to the miracle of His grace. I carry on playing the organ at mass. I relearned to play to the guitar left-handed. I do not shy away from using my hand to point to things on the board, or to play instruments like the recorder with my students.
My students see self-confidence, hope, courage, whatever you want to call it, in spite of my injuries. And the students I’ve taught who also have issues with their hands are encouraged to know that I understand on a personal level, and to see that having a disability of this sort does not prevent them from using their hands to make music, or art, or furniture, or whatever they dream of.
I hate the injury done to my hand. I hate the lost beauty of what my hand once was. I hate the discomfort and downright pain I’m sometimes in. And I despise the accident that caused all this.
But I thank God for the tremendous good that has come out of this, both for those who know me, and within my own soul.
Take all that for what it’s worth to you. It doesn’t answer your question, but I don’t feel capable of giving you a proper theological “answer.” The best I can do is sing the mercies of the Lord by sharing my own experiences.
:yup::clapping::bounce: