His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" (John 9:2).
He was 17, and struggling to maintain control as he attempted to navigate a barrage of emotions that would take him high, yet bring him crashing down. It hadn't taken him all of his few years to see that life really wasn't fair. His parents were divorced. His home life was broken. He felt, at times, as though he was in a room that was ever-decreasing in size. And he was mad. Anger was the one emotion that he could count on. It greeted him as old friend, yet tormented him like the enemy that it was.
The nagging thought that served as fuel for the anger of inferno was a question he could not stop from continually asking. "Who's fault was this?" Why was his life so consistently inconsistent? Why were there moments when hope seemed so deserving for everyone else but him? What had he done for this to be his life? Who's fault was it? This blame served only to perpetuate the endless and assuming theories of conspiracy that had overtaken reality in his mind. He was mad at his father for never being there. He was mad at his mother for his father not being there. He was mad at God for allowing it all to happen. His anger was focused inward, accepting a responsibility for all that was going awry. Someone had to be blamed.
Have you ever felt that way. It seems to be the natural inclination for most every human that faces an obstacle that can't be easily explained, accepted, or understood. The disciples were no exception. While walking with Jesus they came across a sad sight, one that had inevitably been seen at some earlier point of their journey. They chose to ask a question. "Who's sin is to blame for this? His own, or his parents." Their way of thinking was so biased to blame that there was no other explanation but blame that held any amount of credibility. It was someone's fault, but whose? Someone was to blame for the senseless tragedy of blindness. This couldn't possibly be allowed by a God that "so loved the world" that Jesus came to die as a curse on a cross. That did not fit within the framework of their logic or reasoning. Blame had to be assigned.
It's easy blame. It's easy to judge. It's easy to assume. When life takes an unexpected turn, you feel as though you have to be able to explain. When you can't put rational words to that which appears so irrational, blame is the only "logical" recourse. Blame will never satisfy the hurt and the pain of life's ups and downs. Additionally, it will only serve as a greater distraction and an increasing gap in your ability to trust in God's greater plan. Blame and faith do not walk hand in hand. One must give way to the other. Withhold imposing responsibility for the negative elements in your life on others. Rather, stretch out your faith in a God who uses all things. He can take it, brake, and remake it until it is customized for the God-ordained purpose that He has already destined for you.
No, it's not fair. God never promised you fairness, but He did promise you faithfulness. He never assured you comfort, but He did insure that His comfort would always be available to you. Lean on Him. Rely on Him. Trust that there is a reason He has allowed you to walk in the "valley of the shadow of death." While you're there, look beside you. He's right there with you. Allow Him to show you why He felt as though the season you are in was the season He felt was best for you at this time in your life. Don't overwhelm yourself with trying to figure it all out. Be still. Be quiet. Listen. But don't blame. Trust Him. Blame will blind you. Faith will open your eyes, and you will begin to see.