Why doesn't God just poof it all away?

At lunchtime, we prayed for everyone affected by the coronavirus, and Sam asked why God doesn't just poof it all away, and all the kids agreed that yes, He could definitely do that if He wanted to.

Let me tell you a story, I began. When Jesus was walking around down here, he had some friends, two sisters and a brother. And they liked to hang out together. So one day, the brother got really sick. He got worse and worse and worse and the sisters knew that unless a miracle happened, he was going to die.  They sent a message to Jesus: quick! Our brother is dying - we need you to come!  And Jesus got their message and he was like: yeah, he's dying. So I'm just going to stay here for a few more days.  So Jesus didn't go.  And then, of course, the brother died.

And all around the table the faces were aghast. JESUS did that?! Tender, loving Jesus didn't go heal his friend? WHAAAAA?!

So I went on. Jesus showed up for the funeral. He saw the sisters crying, and he cried too.  He was so sad that their hearts were broken, and their brother was dead.
And the sisters were like - if you had only come when we called you, we know you could have healed him!
And Jesus was like - you think you know me, but I want to show you something so truly glorious. And he prayed, and then called the brother to come out of his grave. And he did.  He did more than just healing him. He reversed death in a crazy unexpected astonishing moment.

And they thought about that for a few minutes and I asked them if they thought God was most interested in keeping us comfortable or in something else.  "It could be both," they decided, "He cares about us but He also wants to show us things."

So I read them this verse from the book of Isaiah, chapter 66, verse 9:
I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born, says the Lord.

And I can't speak from a place of knowledge or pain in this pandemic. Nobody I know and love is suffering. My friends and family are safe.  So take all this with whatever grains or buckets of salt you need. But in our current distress, I have seen some glimpses of unexpected and astonishing beauty.

People are working together to try to protect the vulnerable and elderly.  They are so often forgotten, ignored, pushed aside. But now that they are particularly threatened, we are remembering what particular treasures they are. Not because of their productivity or income ... but because they have an innate and precious value.

We are realizing how terribly, beautifully connected we are.

We can see so clearly who comprises our living supply chain - have we ever thanked, noticed, and prayed for our drivers, cashiers, and pharmacists like this before?

We are unable to watch athletes amaze us, but we are celebrating health care professionals and janitors, people who daily serve our indignities with dignity.

We are cheering one another on and reaching out emotionally when we can't reach out physically.

This isn't nothing.
There is something holy afoot; I believe it.
Something new is being born.
xo.