Chapter Eight

a little rain

It’s a good thing to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally.

It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand.

Madeleine L’Engle, Glimpses of Grace

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, “Into each life some rain must fall.” He failed to mention torrential hail, hurricanes, and floods. What comes into most people’s lives is an endless series of severe thunderstorms. Everywhere we look, people are suffering. Even when we look in the mirror. We wake each morning to a new day rife with possibilities, but we have no idea what will come our way. Joy? Sorrow? The “some rain” that Longfellow wrote about threatens to sweep away our capacity to breathe. But God says that he uses all things for our good. Seriously? What good can possibly come from suffering?

finding peace in difficult circumstances

How do you understand your life? Why is it turning out so differently from what you imagined? What do you make of its randomness? The phone rings, and you have no idea what is coming. It could be great news! It could be a friend inviting you to a movie! Maybe you won a car! Or it could be something much different.

In John 16:33 Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble.” Is he not the master of understatement?

Christianity is not a promise to enjoy a life without pain, nor to be given a shortcut through it. It is a promise that pain, sorrow, sin—ours and others’—will not swallow us, destroy us, define us, or have the final word. Jesus has won the victory. And in him so have we.

No one gets a pain-free life. I know some girls’ lives look pretty perfect from a distance, but only from a distance. You get close and you learn the truth. A life without suffering is a fantasy life, and you don’t live in a fantasy. No, your life is much more the stuff of fairy tales. Really. There are wicked witches in fairy tales. There are dragons. In fairy tales, big bad wolves devour beloved grandmothers, and little girls wander the woods alone and afraid.

Hard times come to everyone. Our current address is far from Eden. We live in a fallen world with broken people, and we ourselves are not yet all that we are meant to be. Life is difficult on most days, but sometimes it is painful beyond measure.

In your life, what have been the most difficult trials for you?

Peter wrote, “Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (1 Pet. 4:12). But we are surprised, aren’t we? We wonder, What did we do wrong? Or are we wrong about God? What we believe about God is quickly exposed by pain. What’s he like, really? Is he mean? Is he harsh? Is he mad at us? Does he not care? Does he not see? Did we fall through the cracks of the universe? The very first thing painful trials try to do is separate us from God. But being separated from God is the worst thing that can happen, much worse than the most excruciating of trials.

When suffering comes, we don’t want to jump to conclusions. But it is a good idea to ask God, “What is this? What’s going on here?”

A terrible flu has swept through our town this season. It hit us hard, but it hit a friend of mine harder. As I talked with her one day, she confessed, “I wish I would learn what God is trying to teach me so I could get over this flu.” What was she assuming about God? She was assuming that every sickness is from him. That simply isn’t true. We live in a fallen world. The flu goes around. Sickness is not a punishment from God. He is not waiting for her to grasp some deeper truth about herself or to repent of some hidden sin before he heals her. He is not holding out on her (or us) to finally get her act together in order to bless her. He is not a mean God but a loving one filled with grace and mercy. It is his kindness that draws us to repentance, not his cruelty. God will use painful trials, even the flu, to hone us, but he doesn’t cause all of them.

Some of my readers will need some help with this because they’ve been taught a theology that God causes all things. So they have had to swallow hard and accept the view that God caused them to be sexually abused, God caused their mother to die a premature death, God caused their friend to betray them. Oh, friends, this is a horrible view of God and a profound heresy. Listen:

When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death. (James 1:13–15)

James makes it clear in this passage that God does not tempt anyone to sin, nor does he go on to cause them to sin. But people are tempted every day; they go on to sin every day. So, then, things happen every single day that God is not causing. God does not make anyone sin, but people sin every day, and those sins have terrible consequences. This is not God doing these things. Do you see what an important difference it makes?

In his sovereign power God created a world where the choices of angels and human beings matter. We are not puppets on a string. When someone sins, it is not God causing them to sin. That sexual abuse was not arranged by God. He did not cause your lack of friends any more than he caused those terrorists to bomb the train station.

It is crucial for us to be careful with our interpretation of events. We must ask God’s help in making sense of it all. But for heaven’s sake, don’t blame the sin of the world on God. Ever since Adam and Eve sinned, this world has been badly, badly broken. Not only did sin enter in, but the natural world itself spiraled into brokenness. Disease entered in. Maybe you have a terrible flu because someone sneezed on you or your sister brought it home from school. God did not place those germs for you to get them.

But yes, God can and does use the suffering of this world to shape us. Maybe you have the flu because you have been living your life at breakneck speed and refusing to rest and take care of your body. Maybe. We need to ask Jesus for his interpretation. Your interpretation of the events will shape everything that follows. It will shape your emotions, your perspective, and your decisions. What if you are wrong?

Take a moment to ask God to help you make sense of what you are going through right now. Ask him to help you see what is from him in your situation, what is from other people’s sin, and what is a result of this fallen world (like the flu). Ask him to help you see what he is doing through the suffering, even if he didn’t cause the suffering.

first things first

I learned long ago that in cases of suffering, you can have understanding or you can have Jesus. If you insist on understanding, you usually lose both.

When suffering enters into your life, take a deep breath. The very first thing to do is to invite Jesus into it. Pray, Jesus, catch my heart. When painful trials come your way, by all means ask God what’s up—ask him to interpret them for you. But whether he provides understanding or not, invite Jesus in. Keep inviting Jesus into the pain. Invite Jesus into the places in your heart that are rising to the surface through the suffering, be those painful memories, unbelief, or self-contempt. Pray, Please come meet me here, Jesus. I need you.

Let suffering be the door you walk through that draws you to deeper intimacy with Jesus. Suffering can do that, if we let it. And though it would never be the doorway we would choose, it is one we will never regret walking through.

Let me say this again. Let suffering be the door you walk through that draws you to deeper intimacy with Jesus. Let it play its sanctifying role.

Because though God doesn’t cause all the trials in our lives, he does use them. He does work all things for our good. He will use pain to expose our false beliefs about our hearts and about his heart. He will use it to prick a place in us that has been wounded here before, to reveal our brokenness so that God can heal it. He will use suffering to reveal Jesus’s faithfulness, kindness, and unending love for us.

What is the situation for which you need to pray, “Jesus, catch my heart”?

You see, there is more going on here than meets the eye. There is a battle raging over the human heart. Will we love God and choose to trust the goodness of his heart in the face of the immense brokenness of the world? Will we stand in our belief that God is worthy of our worship and praise in the face of the immense brokenness in our world?

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,

because the LORD has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the LORD

for the display of his splendor. (Isa. 61:1–3)

There may not be a more beautiful passage in all of Scripture. If you’ve read any of my and my husband John’s books, you know it is our favorite. Because this is what Jesus declared he came to do. He announced that he had come to heal the brokenhearted, to set the captive free. He came to restore us in him and to him. He came to comfort those who grieve, to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. He says that sorrow may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. It comes with the morning star. It comes with Jesus. Jesus is the answer. Always.

How do you find peace in the midst of difficult, painful circumstances? Let Peace find you. He’s right where you are, right smack-dab in the middle of your life.

In the midst of our joy, our busyness, our sorrow, and our suffering, we must turn our gaze on Jesus. Invite Jesus in. Ask him to prove to us once again that he is who he says he is. He says he is our Strength. Our Shield. Our Rock. Our Hiding Place. Our Refuge. Our Deliverer. Our great Comforter, our faithful Companion, and our ever-present Friend. Jesus says he is the mighty God, the Prince of Peace. We can trust him.

Jesus is the only One who can meet the deepest needs of your heart, and he wants you to know how deeply he loves you so badly that he’s moved heaven and earth to do it. He is the only One who will never disappoint you, never, ever leave you, comfort you intimately, and love you perfectly every single moment of your life. Invite him in.

beauty will come

My mother could be a very driven woman; we couldn’t walk on the carpet in the living room because we would leave footprints. My mom could be short with me; she could be controlling and demanding; she failed in many ways. Not in every way, not by a long shot, but she did have her rough edges. My mother also loved Jesus. When cancer began to ravage her life, a startling transformation began to take place. My mother softened; she became gentler than she was before—or she became gentle more often. She loosened her grasp on control; it just didn’t matter. She lost her edge to demand or criticize. She said “I love you” more than she ever had. The beauty that was always there began to come forth in truly amazing ways. Our last four months together were the best months of love and relationship we ever shared.

My mother suffered intensely during the last months of her life. She had suffered much in the long years prior to them as well. But in those final months, she leaned into God and came to know his love in a way that filled her heart with peace, rest, and joy. Unable to swallow anything, my mom received nourishment via a feeding tube. A tiny sip of water was impossible for her to take down. She hoped that when she crossed over from life to Life, Jesus would be waiting for her with a large, cold glass of water.

My mom kept a diary all her life. Not journals, diaries; little entries of how she spent her days. A few months after she died, I was reading through her diary from her last year of life when a note in her precious handwriting fell out. This is what it said:

I wish to thank the beautiful priests and parishioners at St. Edwards Church and San Felipe de Jesus for their prayers during my illness. I had an unexpected diagnosis, and it has been the most awesome, rewarding, and glorious time God has ever given to me. I thank God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit from the depth of my soul.

Mary Jane Morris

My mother actually gave thanks in her suffering—not for the suffering, but for what it did in her life. It opened her up to relationship; it caused her to see the value of love over clean carpets and a neat kitchen; it enabled her to offer love and receive love. And though her battle with cancer ended up costing her life, what she gained through the pain she named “the most awesome, rewarding, and glorious time God has ever given to me.”

And she’s drinking Living Water now!

I am surrounded by people who are surrendering their lives to Jesus in deeper ways. They may not understand why things have happened as they have, but they are trusting God that no matter what, he is good. Our friend Scott has grown to know and trust God profoundly. He sent us a little note on the twenty-eighth anniversary of his fall from a ladder that left him paralyzed from the waist down. He simply wrote, “No regrets.” The note brought John and me to tears.

God didn’t give my mom cancer any more than he caused Scott to fall. He didn’t cause it. But he will use it. He will use it to reveal to us who he really is in the face of tragedy and anguish. He will use it to reveal to us who we really are. Jesus wants us to know who we are. He wants us to see ourselves as our Father sees us. The most important mirror for us to look in is our reflection in his eyes.

I would like to become a woman who is as desperate for God in my joy as I am in my sorrow. That has not happened yet. Nothing brings my heart to fully run after God like being in a season of grief. It may be grief over the way I have failed my sons or my husband. It may be sorrow over a revelation of how my selfishness has hurt my friends. It may be pain over the suffering that one I love is experiencing. But nothing causes me to seek God like pain.

thank you

I don’t pretend that suffering always has a good effect on us. I’ve known women made hard, angry, and jealous by their suffering. They envied those who did not seem to be suffering as they were; they even went so far as to wish suffering upon them so that “they would know what it’s like.” This is tragedy; this is ugly. We never, ever want to wish suffering upon another person.

How do we allow suffering to do a holy work in us and not let it make us envious, hard, or angry?

First, I think we need to be honest about what we have done with our suffering. What have we allowed it to do to our hearts? Have we become more fearful? Controlling? Has resentment toward God or others entered in? Let us quickly bring that to Jesus, for this is cancer of the soul, and it ravages what God means to make lovely. We renounce our anger or envy, our controlling or bitterness. We bring it quickly under the blood of Jesus and ask him to remove it all from our heart and soul.

We also need his healing love. We ask him to do in us the very thing he promised in Isaiah 61:

Jesus, heal my broken heart, release me from all darkness. Comfort me in my suffering. Cleanse me from all evil that has gotten in or taken root in the places of my sorrow. Comfort me. Give me a crown of beauty instead of ashes; make me beautiful here, Lord, in this. Give me the oil of gladness instead of mourning; lift my grief and sorrow and give me the oil of your gladness; give me a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. Rescue me.

I think we can hasten this process of healing. I think it begins with that last phrase about praise instead of despair. Nothing—nothing—undoes the harmful effects of suffering as our choice to begin to love and worship Jesus in the midst of it.

Worship him in it. Be thankful to him in it.

Which is not the same thing as being thankful for it.

The Scriptures don’t tell us to give thanks to God for every wicked, evil, hard, painful, excruciating, grief-filled thing that happens in our or others’ lives. That is not what it means. That would be calling evil good. And we are also told by Scripture never, ever to do that. No, what the Scripture says is this: “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thess. 5:16–18).

Give thanks to God in every situation, not for every situation.

By loving Jesus in our pain, we allow him into our pain.

Being thankful opens up windows in the spiritual realm for the presence of God to fill our lives, our thoughts, our understanding, and our perspective. It opens up the doors to the blessings that God wants to pour into our lives. We will come to a place of increasing gratefulness for the story of our lives, both the joyful times and the excruciating seasons. The golden moments that we cherish forever and the awful moments we can’t seem to forget. We are on our way to the place of being able to exalt God over all of it. Yes, all of it.

In Jesus Calling, Sarah Young wrote,

Thankfulness is not some sort of magic formula; it is the language of Love, which enables you to communicate intimately with Me. A thankful mind-set does not entail a denial of reality with its plethora of problems. Instead, it rejoices in Me, your Savior, in the midst of trials and tribulations. I am your refuge and strength, an ever present and well proved help in trouble.1

When Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to his disciples, Thomas was not present. So Jesus came back to them again, when Thomas was also in their midst. Do you recall how Jesus proved that he was real, and risen, and still the same Jesus they had always known and loved? He told Thomas, “Put your hands in my scars.” Jesus still had his scars then, and he still has them today. They are Jesus’s glory. They are what we most worship him for. Glorified Jesus still has his scars, and when we reach glory, so will we. But they will be beautiful, like his.

The story of my life and the struggles I have lived with—make that live with—have helped to shape me into the woman I am today and the woman I am becoming. My scars, my struggles, my failures, my joys, my private, lonely agonies have been forging my soul into something beautiful. Eternal. Good. Yours have too.

Now, we can fight that process—or we can yield to it. My dear mother had her rough edges; you have yours; I have mine. We can choose to let suffering soften us or harden us. We can choose whether we will allow it to make us more compassionate or let our hearts become jealous of others. We can choose whether we will love Jesus in it or resent him for it. Only one set of choices will make us more beautiful.

The pain we experience, the sorrow and the agony, serve a purpose. God is working all things together for our good. He is etching a masterpiece of stunning design. The beauty being forged in us through the transforming work of suffering is one that will leave us breathless, stunned, and forever thankful. And the crowning glory will be that because of the pain we have endured, we have come to know Jesus in a way that causes us to treasure the trial as one of God’s greatest gifts to us. Amazing.

What would you love to be the fruit of the suffering you are currently enduring or have endured in the past? Pray and ask God for that fruit.

note

1. Sarah Young, Jesus Calling (Nashville: Integrity, 2004), 341.