FAITH AND WEAKNESS

"Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption." (I Corinthians 26-30).

I've always wanted to conduct a survey on the following question: What is the hardest aspect of your walk with Christ?

I often wonder what others struggle with the most? Is it doubt or greed? Lust? Pride? Insecurity? Busyness? Worry?

For me, it is discouragement. Even after walking with the Lord for 20 years, I battle daily to remain encouraged in the Lord. How I wish I were different—stronger, more assured. Yet, whether it's my temperament or personality, my upbringing or fallen flesh (most likely a combination of all of these), the truth is I often find it difficult to feel the joy of the Lord.

I was recently reading a book that listed several verses where Christ had healed people "according to their faith." The study seemed to imply that physical healing was a direct result of the measure of each one's faith. Of course, I began to bristle because I've suffered extremely harsh medical problems for the last several years, and the passage made me wonder if I was somehow lacking.

That thought prompted to me reread Hebrews 11—the great "hall of fame" of the faithful. And I was relieved to find that as I reviewed the expressions of faith demonstrated by the saints of old, not one example of physical healing was mentioned. Proof of faith had more to do with obedience, sacrifice, and believing the word of God, despite the trials of life, with an attitude of long-term perseverance rather than expectation of immediate answered prayer.

I am not suggesting that healing does not result from faith, but simply that when physical healing does not take place, it is not a qualifier of the depth of one's faith.

Is there room for the weak of heart in God's Kingdom? I Corinthians surely implies that there is. For it is our weaknesses that "showcase" the glory of God's power. Even for those of us who find it difficult to keep pressing forward in bold confidence, the fact that we continue to press on at all may speak volumes of faith to a spiritual realm of observers that we cannot perceive right now.

"For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like men condemned to die in the arena. We have been made a spectacle to the whole universe, to angels as well as to men." (I Corinthians 4:8-10).

So where does that leave the "faint-hearted?" Instead of trying to muster up a strength that we do not possess, perhaps our response should simply be a petition, asking the Lord to encourage us despite our weakness.

What is the hardest aspect of your walk with Christ? If you would like to share, please feel free to send in your comment.

Dear Lord,

I confess that I am weak. So often I struggle with discouragement, fear and doubt. My circumstances and trials wear me down and deplete my ability to be a bold witness of Your love. I pray that You would fill me with Your power to overcome this weakness—to conquer the battle of defeat in my mind and make of me a conqueror, filled with joy, to Your glory. For "the joy of the Lord is our strength." (Nehemiah 8:10).

GOD SPEAKS IN DREAMS

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I found myself in large, unfamiliar building—a museum perhaps. As I rounded a corner, I happened across a white stone statue of the virgin Mary. Slowly, I raised my camera to shoot a picture when I was struck with a sudden, deep sense of dread that took my breath away. Something was warning me that I was about to do the wrong thing.

Quickly I turned away from the statue and found myself standing on a balcony, looking down at a young woman perched on the edge of a large body of water. She was screaming . . . so loudly that I could see the tonsils in the back of her mouth. Her feet were working frantically to run, but something unseen was holding her in place. All the while the kicking motion created splashes that rippled across the breadth of the water.

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I woke up abruptly, the dream still vivid in my head. My heart thudded with fear. Beyond a shadow of a doubt I knew the dream meant something important—that it held some spiritual significance. But what? I couldn't get the woman's face out of my mind. I felt sorry for her—so terrified, yet unable to flee.

A month or so later, I called a good friend, Paula, and asked if I could meet with her for prayer. I was feeling desperate and down from months and months of unresolved medical problems, and I felt the need to act—to do something, anything, to help myself. Maybe the effective prayers of a few righteous women would avail a healing, in one way or another.

A few days later, I met with Paula and her friend Jeanne…a noted prophetic and powerful prayer warrior. I shared my medical story with Jeanne and ended with a recount of my recent unnerving dream. Her response took me by surprise.

"Sometimes the Lord shows us what's going on in the spiritual realm through our dreams," Jeanne said, "And I think that you are battling with a religious spirit."

At first her words stung. What was she saying . . . that I was a "religious" person but lacked real faith? Even more, I am not a big fan of mystical Christianity. I don't look for signs or seek wonders; I'm not comfortable with talking about such things as demonic influence or deliverance. I've always taken a more practical approach to faith . . . relying upon scipture, rather than experience, to form my beliefs. I did believe that God could work miracles at His will, or impart information to us through any means that He chose, but I just wasn't prone to search for such things. Still, I sensed that Jeanne was saying something God wanted me to hear.

Lord, help me to be open to whatever You are doing. Help me not to be too rigid or to reject something You might want to do. Please help me know the truth.

Then it dawned on me how as a child I had been raised in a very religious, liturgical church. Even though I left that church at the age of 13, and 15 years passed before I became a Christian at the age of 28, perhaps some religious seed had been lodged in my soul and needed uprooting.

The two women prayed mightily over me that day—for healing, for wisdom, for hope and for freedom from a religious spirit. I left there feeling thankful but uncertain of what to expect. Mostly I was afraid that nothing would change at all, but I tried to cling to God's promise in Matthew 18:20: "For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."

A couple weeks later, still troubled by Jeanne's words, I shared the event and the dream with another friend. "Do you think I am just religious person?" I asked. "No," he said. "That's not what I think she meant at all. It's just that you have a tendency to feel guilty a lot. I don't know where that comes from . . . whether it's from your upbringing or what. But you tend to weigh your faith . . . your sins on one side and your obedience on the other. But it's by grace that you're saved."

As he spoke, a light went off in my head. I literally saw a scale in my mind's eye. Suddenly I completely understood the dream as well as Jeanne's interpretation. Deep inside me, I had come to believe that God was punishing me with medical problems for sins I'd committed in the past. Somewhere along the line, I had allowed fear to cloud my heart and to define my standing before God.

Christianity is not about doing enough right to outweigh the wrong. And I knew that . . . but I had wandered from the truth. The challenges of suffering had clouded my perspective. I knew that I needed to return to my first love . . . to set my face toward the fact that God is faithful to His promise to pardon all our sins—past, present and future--in Jesus Christ!

In that moment, a true healing had begun. More than a physical crisis, I had been suffering from a crisis of faith. But no more. I determined that day to focus on God's promise that despite what I suffered in this world, my salvation was secured on the cross. I could not follow the lie that my trials were signs of God's displeasure. Yes, obedience is the goal . . . but obedience is not the fee. Salvation is a gift.

"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinthians 5:21).

A PRAYER ON SUFFERING

"I ask you neither for health nor for sickness, for life nor for death; but that you may dispose of my health and my sickness, my life and my death, for your glory...You alone know what is expedient for me; you are the sovereign master; do with me according to your will. Give to me, or take away from me, only conform my will to yours. I know but one thing, Lord, that it is good to follow you, and bad to offend you. Apart from that, I know not what is good or bad in anything. I know not which is most profitable to me, health or sickness, wealth or poverty, nor anything else in the world. That discernment is beyond the power of men or angels, and is hidden among the secrets of your Providence, which I adore, but do not seek to fathom."

A Prayer by Blaise Pascal taken from Philip Yancey's

Where is God When it Hurts?

Sometimes...probably most times...we cannot explain the suffering in our lives. Naturally we ask why? And we struggle through a process only to reach a place where we finally understand that we simply cannot understand. And that is enough.

"The secret things belong to the LORD our God . . . " (Deuteronomy 29:29).

GOD'S PROVISION IN SUFFERING

One evening at sundown, while sitting on my front patio and enjoying the quiet of the neighborhood, a most unusual scene unfolded before my eyes.

It began with the sound of a persistent twitter. All sorts of species of birds lived in the area and frequented our backyard bird feeder, but this particular chirp was distinct--an incessant chatter without break.

I looked upward to locate the source and spotted the cutest little brown, plump-bellied bird, his tail cocked in an upright position. He was delicately perched on the tip of a tree limb. Fascinated, I watched as he twitched his head all about and delivered a melodic series of notes that sounded somewhat anxious. I couldn't help wondering if somehow my presence on the patio was causing him distress.

Suddenly, without warning, the little guy leaped from the branch and flew straight into a hanging basket over my head. I was stunned. Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

Slowly, I rose to my feet and cautiously peered into the basket. There, tucked safe and sound within a burrow of Spanish moss, was the little bird, peering back at me, most likely in trepidation. Precious! The sight of him warmed my heart to the core. I realized then that my presence had, most likely, intruded upon his need to make it safely into his bed.

The following day, still intrigued with the whole event, I deliberately sought out my patio just a few moments before sundown, hoping the little bird would return. Sure enough, like clockwork, he appeared and proceeded to conduct the same ritual of song and dance before plopping straight into his makeshift nest for the night. Once again my heart was tickled!

For the next several weeks, just as the sun was beginning to set, my family and I would gather around our front door and peer through the blinds in anticipation of our little friend's arrival. And faithfully, night after night, we were rewarded with his endearing display, and we counted ourselves blessed for a front row view of one of God's sweetest creations. Eventually, a mate joined the nest. Later, we learned from our bird book that they were Carolina Wrens, and at that point we affectionately named them Twitter and Tweety.

All the while in my spirit I sensed that God was using this unusual occurrence to catch my attention and impart a specific word to me. I know that may sound silly, but if God can use a donkey to speak to Balaam (Numbers 22:28) and a large fish to swallow the wayward prophet, Jonah, (Jonah 1:17), certainly He can use a bird to speak to His child.

"Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" (Matthew 6:25-26).

Eventually, with the turn of the season, the wrens disappeared, never to return again. We were sad to see them go; how quickly they had wormed their way into our heats and had become a frequent topic of conversation at our dinner table. But the words of God's reminder remained forefront in my thoughts for a long time.

A few months later, my medical problems peaked and forced me out of my job. Although panic tried to seize my heart, God reminded me of His gentle messengers and His endless promise to always care for and provide for His children.

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs on your heard are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matthew 10:29-31).

SUFFERING AND REGRET

"Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13-14).

LOOKING BACK

Sometimes when we suffer, we get hung up in looking back . . . back to a time before the pain began . . . back to a time when life was simpler . . . back to the moment when we made a bad decision and would give anything for the chance to do it over.

Sometimes we tend to dwell on the past, mulling over what we should have done differently in order to avoid our present pain. We think that perhaps if we had obeyed God when He tried to get our attention on a matter, or perhaps if we had sought God more heartily when we were happier, then we wouldn't be suffering now.

But looking backward is a double-edged sword—it has the potential to become either a blessing or a curse, depending on how long we allow our thoughts to linger.

Life, for everyone, is filled with mistakes. But God, in His mercy, grants second chances (and thirds, and fourths, etc.). Mercy calls us to look back just long enough to repent, if we need to, and to LEARN so that we can move forward. But looking back through the lens of regret is a snare of the enemy designed to block our progress.

We can learn more about looking back from a few examples in Scripture:

....Before God sent judgment upon the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, He sent two angles to lead Lot and his wife to safety. The angels warned them not to look back; however, Lot's wife did look back, and she instantly turned into a pillar of salt. (Genesis 19:23-26).

....When God delivered the Hebrew children from Egypt and they encountered a time of testing in the wilderness, their hearts began to look back...to long for the food they had formerly eaten. With this God was displeased. Inevitably the Hebrews were unable to enter the Promised Land because they refused to look forward in faith. (Numbers 11:1-6).

....When the teachers and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery to Jesus, hoping He would punish her, instead Jesus forgave her and said, "Go, and leave your life of sin." (John 8:1-11). In other words: MOVE FORWARD NOW.

FOREGET WHAT IS BEHIND

If anyone had reason to look back and regret, it was the Apostle Paul who had persecuted the church of Christ, ordering Christians to their deaths. Later, Paul beseeched God to remove a painful "thorn" from his side, but God refused, reminding Paul that His grace was sufficient for Paul to move forward. What if Paul had taken God's refusal as a sign that he was not forgiven? That he was unuseable? That he wasn't right with God?

Instead Paul embraced God's words in faith and continued to move forward with the work God had called him to. Had Paul done otherwise, he would have missed out on the high calling of writing what would eventually become a major portion of the New Testament.

We will never be able to move forward in our lives until we are first able to move forward in our minds, accepting our trials not as obstacles that hold us back, but as opportunities to discover the grace of God.

"Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death." (2 Corinthians 7:10).

THE CUP OF SUFFERING

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it" (Luke 9:23-24).

What crosses do you bear daily?

Some people bear crosses that require subtle acts of patience—refraining from snapping back at someone who offends or holding one's temper in an exhaustinly long line at the bank. Others bear crosses that call for simple acts of kindness—running an errand for a spouse who is exhausted, or yielding to another car in heavy traffic.

Every decision to prefer someone else's needs above our own, to relinquish our "rights" and yield to the ways of God, becomes a practical altar of sacrifice to the Lord.

Still there are other crosses that are not as easy to bear, crosses that we don't choose for ourselves, rather they are assigned to our lives and reveal the level of our faith in Christ. Sometimes these crosses are called our "lots in life." They are often characterized by circumstances or conditions we find ourselves powerless to change, despite our greatest efforts or prayers. These crosses are the "thorns in our flesh" that produce chronic pain, be it low grade or overtly disabling. Jesus warned us of these crosses and how they are a mark of the Christian life.

Anyone who has suffered for a prolonged period of time knows the anguish of soul that is born out of deep adversity. Our natural inclination is to escape our crosses. If we could, we would throw them off of our backs (unlike the One who willingly carried His to save our lives). But if we refuse to allow God to bear the load with us, we will experience a crisis of faith.

How do we refuse God? By avoiding Him when we are in pain. By becoming rooted in anger and bitterness. By demanding our way. By turning inward instead of upward. By fixing our eyes on the storm instead of fixing our eyes on the Lord.

Consider the night of Jesus' arrest. When a league of rebels tried to seize Him, the Apostle Peter cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant with a sword. Christ knew full well the atrocities to come, yet instead of commending Peter for his allegiance He rebuked His disciple and said, "Put your sword away! Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given Me?” (John 18:11).

When we suffer, do we agree to drink the cup God has assigned us? Or do we expect to drink only cups of blessings and joy?

For our faith to mature, we must come to the place where, like Christ, we are willing to accept our unchangeable "lots" and to embrace our crosses by seeking God for the strength, courage and faith to believe that in Him, death always leads to life.

SUFFERING AND PRAYER

Friendship With God

“Life without a friend is death without a witness.” --Eugene Benge

Who is your best friend? How would you describe the qualities of a good, deep and lasting friendship?

I have been blessed throughout my life with some really wonderful friends—friends in whom I have been able to confide my deepest and sometimes darkest thoughts—and yet they have stood by me and always will.

In the most difficult times of my life, these dearest friends are the ones whom I run to with my problems because I know that they understand me. More times than not, they don’t have the solutions to my problems . . . but that’s not why I go to them. I go because I need them to listen, to care, to help carry my heavy load in this world, if even for just a few minutes. And I know they will pray for me.

When a friend allows us to reveal who we really are, without fear of rejection or condemnation, then they validate our worth. In essence, their listening says, “you matter.” We all need to know that we matter, especially when we are suffering and undergoing difficult times. Knowing that we matter gives us the strength to push forward, even when we don’t know where the road is leading.

It took me a long time to realize that God is not only my Father, but my friend. During the darkest days of my medical afflictions, months of unresolved problems drained every ounce of energy or determination to go on, and I spent hours on my knees before God beseeching Him to heal me, to deliver me, to tell me what I needed to do or to say differently so that He would respond. Without realizing it, I had compounded my own suffering by believing that God wanted me to change something in my life, something in myself, before granting my petition. I turned myself inside out looking for that one elusive black mark to eradicate and nearly drove myself crazy in the process.

Then one day, while on my knees, I was getting ready to offer up my same old requests to the Lord—"God, please heal me." "God please deliver me." "God, please show me why this is happening to me."

I was so tired. Finally, I just said, “Lord, I’m just too weary to confess, to ask, or to pray. I just need to talk—to tell you how I feel.”

Suddenly I heard that still small voice say, "Are you seeking the blessings, or are you seeking the Blesser?

Stunned, I slowly proceeded to freely unload . . . to share with God as I would with my best friend. I didn’t ask for anything; I didn’t try to please. I simply let my words gush forth from the deep well of a broken heart.

When I was done, I felt more refreshed, more relieved than I had in months. And I was struck with a new realization: That was exactly what God had wanted me to do . . . to simply enjoy the Blesser.

From that day forward, my perspective toward prayer changed. I finally understood that in spending so much time asking God for things, I was missing out on the deeper reason that God had created me as His child. I am not implying that we should not ask God for things. In fact, we are told by God, Himself, to do just that.

But prayer is much more than asking. It is more than praising. Prayer in its simplicity is to commune with the Living God and to discover the joy of His fellowship as we relate to Him, even as a friend.

“No longer do I call you servants, for a servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I heard from My Father I have made known to you.” (John 15:15).

SUFFERING-IS IT WASTED TIME?

Are you going through a trial that has brought your life to a screeching halt?

That's what happened to me when I began to experience some perplexing medical problems that the doctors could not resolve. Over the months, as my symptoms increased they began to create more and more restrictions on my life, making it impossible, at times, to participate in some of life's basic functions: working, sleeping, socializing with friends, going to church.

For months I prayed and waited for God to bring healing . . . to lead me to that one doctor who would have the wisdom to treat my problem so that I could resume living a "normal" life, but that prayer remained unanswered. As a result, I've had to deal with feelings of uselessness and deep frustration over the inability to live the life I thought I was supposed to live.

Forced inactivity led to a mental/spiritual tug-of-war with God's promise in Romans 8:28 that states: "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." How could anything good come from being sick all the time?

Then one day, while reading the book of Exodus and how the Israelites suffered for centuries under the oppressive bondage of slavery in Egypt, I came across a verse that struck a cord in my heart: "But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew." (Exodus 1:12).

The more the enemy afflicted God's children, the more God made them increase in number!

As I meditated on this verse for awhile, I became amazed how used His children's time of affliction to fulfill His promise of building a kingdom of people whom even the gates of hell could not prevail against.

Likewise, King David, a beloved servant of God and renowned leader of Israel, spent 14 years hiding in wilderness caves from Saul who wanted to kill him. God had appointed David to kingship in his youth, but more than a decade of seeming inactivity preceded David's actual assent to the throne—a decade of frustration and suffering. Was it wasted time?

Were it not for those years on the run, we wouldn't have some of the most anointed and prophetic words in Scripture today—the Psalms, written by King David durinig his years of affliction.

Dr. James Dobson, founder of Focus on the Family, wrote a book entitled, "When God Doesn't Make Sense" in which he states, "Most of us in Western nations are motivated to use every second of our existence for some gainful purpose. But the Lord sometimes permits our years to be 'squandered' or so it would seem . . . ."

Is it possible that in certain instances what God wants to accomplish through our lives can only come to fruition within the context of isolation?

Prayer: Dear Lord, I don't know why You have brought my life to a halt, or why You allow this prolonged suffering to keep me from serving You in the ways that I long to do. But You are the God who makes something out of nothing—You multiplied five loaves and two fish to feed 5000 and I know You can use this time in my life to multiply Your purposes. Thank you that no time is squandered in Your hands. Amen.

SUFFERING AND GOD'S FAITHFULNESS

Spiritual Sickness

Just as physical sickness can zap our strength and dim our vitality, sometimes the circumstances of life can tax our spiritual strength and deplete our reservoir of faith.

One potential threat to our spiritual health is our perspective toward prolonged suffering. Life is replete with circumstances that create long-term pain: the diagnosis of an incurable condition or disease; the loss of a loved one; an unfulfilled goal or heart’s desire; unemployment; betrayal; catastrophe.

When suffering persists we naturally ask the question, “What have I done wrong to deserve this? Is God trying to teach me a lesson?” When clear answers fail to emerge, the tendency may be to dig deeper which can lead to erosive doubts: “Does God really love me? Have I pressed Him too far?"

Once “spiritual sickness” takes hold, it has the potential to spread like a cancer, afflicting us with relentless anxieties that shake the core of our faith. The enemy will whisper into our heads: “You’re going to lose your salvation. You don’t have what it takes to hold on to God. If you were really a Christian you wouldn’t even be thinking like this.” Before we realize what’s happened, we find ourselves caught in a web of fear and spiritually paralyzed.

Unhealthy Doctrine, Unhealthy Faith

Part of what causes us to succumb to spiritual sickness is the lack of knowledge or the lack of trust in the basic doctrines of the Bible—particularly the assurance of our salvation. God has chosen us from the foundation of the world and has covenanted to keep us to the end. Prolonged suffering always presents the temptation to doubt this truth.

For the longest time I saw the amount of my suffering as a measuring rod of God's love for me. The more I suffered, the more sinful I must be. The more I suffered, the more God was displeased with me. So when I started undergoing a series of medical problems, and God did not grant the physical healing I had prayed for, I interpreted that as God’s rejection and I became plagued with the fear that I was not saved.

The Road to Spiritual Health

My afflictions brought me to a new place where I had to re-evaluate my deepest beliefs. It all boiled down to one question: Did Christ really die for all my sins—past, present, and future—or didn’t He? Which was it? If the former was true, then I had fallen for a lie.

I finally saw that in setting impossible standards of spirituality for myself, standards I could never attain, I had inadvertently consigned myself to a prison of fear. But God’s word says: “Perfect love drives out fear.” (I John 4:18). Obviously something was wrong with my thinking. If my sin had the power to undo what God had done (regeneration), then my sin had more power than God—and I knew that WAS NOT true.

I finally learned that I could no longer allow my circumstances to define truth. In doing so, I had lost sight of the foundation of the Christian faith: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” (Romans 8:1).

I like the way Philip Graham Ryken is quoted in the book Assured by Faith by Burk Parsons: “If our salvation depended on us, then we would be about as faithful as the stock market.”

The Faithfulness of God

I found a number of verses confirming the faithfulness of God and began to read them out loud, incorporating them into prayers on a regular basis. In time, the power of God’s living word, the sword, forced the enemy of my mind to retreat.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned so far is that even when we cannot hold on to God, He holds on to us. We do not make it to the end because we have great faith, but we make it to the end because of His great faithfulness! This is the assurance that we have in Jesus Christ. "My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father’s hand. (John 10:29).

"If we are faithless, He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself. (2 Timothy 2:13).

For I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me. This is the will of the Father who sent Me, that of all He has given Me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day. (John 6:38-39).

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39).

GOD AND SUFFERING

Discovering Faith

I thought I would deviate from my normal postings about Bible passages and lessons learned about the Lord and inject some personal thoughts. This is not easy for me, as I’ve been told I tend to be a “private” person. And I’ve often wrestled with just how personal to get on this blog. But here goes:

Tonight I am feeling whimsical and somewhat nostalgic. So I thought I’d open my heart. The main thing on my mind this day is that I do not know what I would do if it were not for the truth and reality of God in my life.

You see, I wasn’t always concerned with the things of God. I was raised in a traditional church environment where I showed up on Sundays, but it was a duty and meant nothing on any level beyond obligation. I’ve always believed in the existence of God and the historical explanation that Jesus died on the cross for man’s sins, but I understood that to mean that Christ’s death was for some universal, blanket-type application for all human beings on the planet. I still had so many personal, unanswered questions.

Not until I was 28 years old and going through a heart-breaking broken engagement did I attend church for the first time in years and actually “hear” the gospel message. God had a plan for my life. But sin was keeping me separated from Him. If I would confess my sins and place my trust in Jesus’ sacrificial death on the cross, which erased my sins against God, then God would adopt me as His child and guide me for the rest of my life.

I didn’t understand everything I heard that day in church, but what I did understand is this: I had never considered consulting God about my day-to-day life. I had never known that such a thing was possible. I’d wrestled for the longest time with the question of the purpose of this world and my place in it. What was the point of being here? Where was I going? Was there any such thing as absolute truth?

That day was the beginning of a new life for me. That day I did a 180 and began to follow Jesus Christ.

It’s been 21 years since that day, and I have to say that life as a Christian has certainly been different from what I ever anticipated, but God is truly an “anchor for my soul” and has proven the truth of Christ’s words: “I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.” (John 8:12).

God And Suffering

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, then you are familiar with the four years of prolonged medical problems and resulting sufferings I have experienced. And this leads me back to what I said at the start: Were it not for the faithfulness of God; were it not for the absolute truth of His promises as given to us in the Bible; were it not for the reality that Jesus Christ is who we are all seeking for…who holds the answers to every deepest longing of our hearts, I would not be here right now. I would not have made it this far. I would have given up. Life is too hard and cold, and apart from having a relationship with the living God, there is no meaning in this world. God promises to those who trust in Him that their life will not be in vain. Christ is the one who makes it possible for our sufferings to have eternal purposes. Apart from Him, all suffering is without hope.

I remember when I first came to this realization in July of 1988. That was the day that I turned toward God. I recall thinking, “What if this is just a fad?” I had followed so many philosophies—considered so many religions and viewpoints up to that point. How could I know this was REAL?

About a year later I ended up spending a semester at an international Bible School in Chicago where I met people from at least 30 different countries around the globe. It was as if we all spoke the same “language.” Everyone, although unique in personalities and experiences, shared a common thread of understanding—that Jesus Christ was the way, the truth, and the life of this world. That experience cemented my faith forever.

If you are undergoing prolonged suffering, and if you feel there is no point to your existence in this world, then please consider that God is the only one who can turn your experiences into “gold.” Ask Him to forgive you and to change your heart and lead your life. Read His word, the Bible. Talk to him honestly about your thoughts and feelings. Let go of this world and follow Him instead. “Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will by no means pass away.” (Mathew 24:35).

Following Christ does not mean that you will never suffer, or question, or struggle in this world. But it does mean that He will infuse you with His enduring strength and transform your agonies of this world to eternal rewards. And when your time comes to leave this earth, you will have the assurance that you will live forever, with Him, in the world to come!

“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelations 21:4).

WHAT IS AUTHENTIC FAITH?

“For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’ … inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.”(Matthew 25:35-36, 40).

What is authentic faith? Have you ever wrestled with this question? Throughout the years, as I’ve followed the Lord, I’ve repeatedly prayed to understand more about the illusive depths of what constitutes truly authentic faith.

For me, discovering the mystery of faith is much like peeling an onion—as each layer of faulty perceptions are stripped way, you get closer to the core (God). When I was first saved, walking in faith was about taking on a new way of life filled with spiritual practices that included learning how to pray, to read God’s word, fellowship and serve.

Later, I became more acquainted with the aspect of Christ’s Lordship over my life. Faith then involved an awakening to the battle between the flesh and the spirit, and the aspiration to lead a more obedient life.

In time I encountered some bitter disappointments that caused my passion for Christ to dull. I entered into a spiritual wilderness void of emotion. All the activities I had once enjoyed became chore-like and rote. But in that place, God was teaching me about another facet of faith, as I learned the importance of trusting His word instead of relying upon what I could feel.

Years later, I began to see various inconsistencies in what other Christians believed. This plunged me into a renewed passion for the scriptures and faith became a pursuit of doctrine.

A FACET OF FAITH

But when I reached the season of my prolonged medical problems, a drought of unanswered prayer, empty doctrine, lost hope, and feelings of abandonment caused me to question everything I’d believed up to that point. If the God I had been following would allow this much suffering, then He was not the God I had thought Him to be. And if that were the case, then I was not the Christian I thought myself to be…so who was I? I had lost all sense of spiritual equilibrium. A week’s stay in the hospital during one Christmas season brought this crisis to a head. I found myself pleading again with God: “What is authentic faith?”
I’ll never forget how God met me in that hospital and answered my question in a most astonishing way.

On Christmas Eve, an unexpected visitor showed up at my hospital room. Alana was a woman I had met a few years before at church. We had taught classes together a couple times, but we did not know each other well, nor did we socialize together.

Of all the people I knew well at that time who never visited me in the hospital, Alana, an almost virtual stranger, drove over an hour from her home, delaying a Christmas dinner with her husband, to comfort me--a sick acquaintance. The kindness of her gesture brought me to tears of sheer gratitude—to think that anyone would make such a sacrifice for me.

And I heard God whisper in my heart, “Now that is authentic faith.”

That night, Alana was the body of Christ in action. She will probably never know how that one selfless act impacted my understanding of Jesus forever. And I realized that if it were not for my suffering, I would never have learned what it's like to be on the receiving end of God’s tender love through such a faithful servant.

“If you truly want to experience an authentic faith, go where people are hurting the most and get involved in their lives. You’ll not only see God at work, you’ll also gain his heart and very likely become transformed in the process.” –Gary Thomas in Authentic Faith.

HE CHOSE TO SUFFER

A story was once told to a group of children:

"What if I loved the birds and wanted them to eat out of my hand?"
“They’d be too afraid,” came the reply.
"But what if I talked to them and told them not to be afraid?"
“They wouldn’t understand your words,” said the children.
"Then what if I first became a bird for awhile?"
“Then they would love you.”

The simplicity of this analogy touched my heart, reminding me of what great lengths God went to in order to identify with us. Not only did He communicate His love in words, but He became one of us for awhile, in the Person of Jesus Christ—God in the flesh.

When I get weary of my afflictions, I sometimes become frustrated with God—even resentful. I’ll start to reason within myself that if God is all-powerful and can do anything He pleases, and if He truly loves me, then why does He allow my suffering to continue? It’s so difficult to equate love with pain. It doesn’t make sense within my limited framework of rationality.

One morning during church worship, when I was wrestling particularly hard with this question, the following scripture flashed up on the screen: “When Jesus knew that His hour had come that He should depart from this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.” (John 13:1). Immediately a thought pressed upon my mind: Consider how Jesus departed from the world. I sensed the Holy Spirit prodding my thoughts, and I became lost in several moments of reflection on exactly how Jesus left the world--through the doorway of suffering.

It is amazing how in His deity, the King of Kings could have chosen to exempt Himself from the troubles of life, but instead entered into the full constraints of the human experience, forgoing His glory for a time to endure both the common and the extreme afflictions of this corrupted world. On our behalf, HE CHOSE TO SUFFER, to take upon Himself the ultimate horror every human must face—death. In this way, He fully identified Himself with us.

I don’t know why God has created a world where suffering must exist—that’s a mystery that only He fully understands right now. We can only speculate by piecing together various fragments of information from His word, and beyond that we must exercise faith.

But God has promised that one day we will understand in full. In the meantime, He gently reminds us to focus on the ultimate proof of His love—the shedding His blood for our lives.

“Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” (John 15:13).

Subtle Beauty

Photo By: Eileen Gregory Selby

THE SEASON OF SUFFERING

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4).

If suffering could be compared to a season, it would certainly be winter.

Winter is dark, cold and isolating. As the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer, flowers die, creatures hide, and the world recedes into a canvas of gloom and gray. Winter--the longest of the four seasons--has a way of triggering depression as it wears out its welcome and stretches the limits of human patience.

If suffering is like winter, then it’s no wonder we disdain it so deeply. Suffering is an uncomfortable “activity under heaven”—one that provokes cross emotions and behaviors while rubbing up against our godly strivings for hope, joy and peace.

But the sorrow of suffering has an appointed time and purpose in each life under heaven. God does not want us to deny our pain, nor to escape it—rather He calls us to embrace what He has paradoxically designed. Like winter, our suffering has a subtle beauty that can only be appreciated within the framework of faith.

PERMISSION TO SUFFER

One of the greatest acts of kindness we can extend toward someone in crisis is to grant them the permission to suffer. We don’t always need to cheer people up, or to suggest explanations for their troubles, or to put a positive spin on every circumstance. Sometimes when people are suffering, what they need most is validation—someone to simply acknowledge that their crisis is, indeed, sad. As Romans 12:15 says: “Rejoice with those who rejoice—and to weep with those who weep.”

I think some people try to brush off sadness because they fear it is a weakness of faith. But sadness is not an unrighteous emotion, and a number of scriptures display this truth. One in particular is Psalm 88. Please take a moment to click on this link and read over this unique passage in the Bible.

Did you notice what was so unusual about this Psalm? Unlike most of the others, this one both begins and ends in despair. The author of the Psalm is a man named Heman, which is Jewish for “faithful.” Look at the words he used to describe his feelings: afflicted, rejected by God, close to death, the object of God’s wrath, cut off. Yet, Heman’s psalm reveals an ember of faith as he casts his sorrows upon “the God who saves me.” (vs. 1).

If you are in a season of suffering, no one but the Lord knows how long it will last. But God does not expect you to pretend. He does not condemn you for your feelings. Jesus is a compassionate high priest—a “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53:3). God is able to use the uncomfortable emotion of sorrow to conform us to image of Christ, for within the experience of sorrow is the opportunity to develop compassion.

Prayer: Dear Lord, You have created the seasons of our lives—each with a specific purpose and designated time. Even winter, in Your hands, reveals a subtle beauty. Thank you for allowing me to feel what I feel without the fear of Your rejection. Help me to grieve my crisis for the appropriate length of time, and to know when I should look for the spring. Meanwhile, send me a companion who will mourn with my mourning and allow me to be real. Amen.

WHY?

by Anne Graham Lotz

"Have you doubted God's love for you personally? Are you mentally wandering in confusion as you seek to determine what you have done that was so bad as to deserve this?"

"Bad things do happen to those Jesus loves. But remember the spiritual principle: Glory follows suffering, and life follows death. It's a principle that's as true today as it was in olden days..." Read more in Why?

AUTHENTIC FAITH

by Gary Thomas

"The Christlike life is not simply about practicing impeccable morality and overcoming temptation and faithfully performing a few spiritual disciplines…..we are called to give ourselves over to the salvation and sanctification of Christ’s bride, the church, rather than to be consumed by our own welfare. This holy self-forgetfulness is the most genuine mark of true faith, the evidence of God’s merciful grace in our lives." --Gary Thomas in Authentic Faith

THOUGHTS IN CRISIS

"For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:3-5).

The Mind Set on the Flesh

The mind is a restless wanderer, continually seeking to occupy itself with thoughts. Often when we suffer, our minds become obsessed with our troubles, rehearsing them over and over until they loom so large that we can see nothing else.

Chronic pain, whether physical or emotional, has the capacity to wear down our mental resolve and to take our minds hostage. Thought processes can easily become caught in harmful repetitious patterns, sometimes before we even recognize what has happened. And once we allow our uncensored thoughts to interpret who God is, rather than filtering our thoughts through the light of God’s word, then we become vulnerable to the darts of fear and discouragement. In time, these hurtful emotions will drive us away from the One we need the most—our Heavenly Father.

In his book entitled Far From Home, Joseph Stowell, former president of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, talks about the deceitful spins that Satan attempts to put on our thinking patterns. Here are a few:

• God cannot or will not fix this;
• God likes others better than He likes me;
• God hasn’t rewarded me for my sacrifices;
• God’s ways are too hard and strict.

Now I’d like to add a few of my own:

• God doesn’t love me any more;
• I’m not worthy of God’s love;
• I’ve lost my salvation;
• I’ve committed the unpardonable sin.

In your suffering, have any of these thoughts ever crossed your mind? If so, I can guarantee you are not alone! Satan’s very first move in the Garden of Eden was to twist Eve’s thoughts about God, and nothing is new under the sun. The enemy still uses the same strategies today.

The Mind Set on the Spirit

2 Corinthians reminds us that when our faith is in crisis, that crisis takes place in the battlefield of the mind. Here, in our thoughts processes, is where we will either win or lose the fight. At times we need to disengage ourselves from our emotions, and with an act of our will to think about WHAT we are thinking about. In this way we will be able to expose the lies. As we read God’s word and become more familiar with the truth, we will become better armed to resist the attacks of the enemy.

Has suffering stolen your peace? Perhaps its time to take inventory of your thought life: “For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.” (Romans 8:6). If you are feeling the weight of “death” in your heart, it may be that your mind is filled with dark (carnal) thoughts. Only God’s word has the power to break the chains.

Suggestion: At one point in my crisis my mind had become so entrenched in fear that I was unable to pray myself out of it. So I wrote the words of Joshua 1:7-9 on an index card and placed it beside my bed. Every night before going to sleep, I read that verse aloud, and every morning, the moment my eyes opened, I did the same. Before long, that verse reached deep into my unconscious and began running through my dreams. Eventually, the power of God’s word set me free from the tyranny of fear.

WEAK FAITH

"Jesus asked the boy's father, 'How long has he been like this?' 'From childhood,' he answered. 'It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.' 'If you can'?' said Jesus. 'Everything is possible for him who believes.' Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, 'I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!'" (Mark 9:21-24).

Imagine this man’s plight—he’d seen his beloved son tormented for years by an evil spirit that had rendered the boy mute and often tried to kill him. The disciples were unable to drive the spirit out. When Jesus arrived at the scene, the father pleaded for his help. When Jesus challenged the man’s belief, the man made an honest confession: "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

How conflicted. A part of the father believed that Jesus had the power to deliver his son; yet, at the same time, a part of him doubted. Have you ever felt that way? Torn between faith and doubt? I admit that I have. In my suffering, I knew that only God could help me, but when prayers for healing went unanswered for months, I became fearful and confused. Doubt took hold.

At first glance, it may sound like Jesus is saying that “faith” heals us. But a deeper principle is at work here. It is God who heals us. In other words, faith in “faith” itself is a work—when we try to muster up what we simply do not possess. But having faith in the Person of God is the key. There is a subtle difference between these two perspectives, and that difference has the power to either wreak havoc or to produce peace in our hearts.

What if we simply do not have that kind of faith within us?

I’ve come to realize that we can only believe someone to the degree that we trust them, and trust takes time to develop. As with our earthly relationships, trust in others develops over time as it is tested and repeatedly proves faithful. The same holds true in our relationship with God. Faith is a lifelong journey filled with various experiences designed to increase our trust in Him.

Look at Abraham. Young in his faith, he convinced his wife to lie about her identity in Egypt, fearful that he would lose his life because of her beauty. Abraham lacked trust in God to protect him. Yet, decades later, this same man demonstrated giant faith when he sacrificed his only son on an altar at God’s command. Through various circumstances over the years, God had developed Abraham’s faith.

STRONG FAITH

Notice that Jesus did not wait for the man’s faith to “kick in” before responding. No. Instead God entered into this man’s crisis and responded in a way that produced the end result—faith. You can bet that after seeing Jesus work, the father’s belief in Him was strengthened.

Nothing challenges our faith more than prolonged pain. Suffering draws to the surface what is hidden in our hearts, forcing us to come face to face with our gut beliefs. Sometimes what emerges from within is shocking—it can be an uncomfortable purging.

Looking back, if God had healed me at first cry, my understanding of Him would never be what it is today. Because He allowed my trial to continue, inaccurate and harmful perspectives were uncovered and healed. God is more concerned with our internal state rather than our external comforts. Hebrews 12:2 tells us He is both the author and the perfector of our faith.

If we waiver, we don’t need to cower under a cloud of guilt because our faith is not what it should be. Instead, as we humble ourselves before God, honestly acknowledging our weakness and needs, He will rise to our rescue. “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” (Psalm 51:17).

Prayer: Dear Lord, Help me when I am weak to have stronger faith. Forgive me when I doubt, and teach me to trust You in the depths of my heart, in every circumstance. Thank you that You not only initiated my faith, but You will perfect it until You bring me home. Amen.

GOD'S RESPONSES

TO SUFFERING

Disoriented. That’s what I felt from months of suffering with no relief and no answers from God. It seemed I had prayed every prayer I could think of, beseeching God for healing, for mercy, for understanding. I longed for the days when I would read the Bible and sense God’s voice speaking to me through the scriptures. Those moments warmed my heart and made me feel secure. God seemed so close then, so involved in my life.

But prolonged suffering had dulled my spiritual ears. I wondered if I would ever “hear” from God again. Then one Sunday in church, my pastor preached a sermon I will never forget. He talked about the three ways God responds to our suffering:

• Sometimes God delivers us from suffering.
• Sometimes God preserves us through suffering.
• Sometimes God permits something in us to die.

God Delivers: There are times when God chooses to protect us from suffering. When the Jews sought to kill the Apostle Paul, God made a way of escape through the disciples who lowered him in a basket over a wall. (Acts 9).

God Preserves: There are times when God allows us to pass through a storm, but He preserves us intact. When the Hebrew children were thrown into the fiery furnace, the Lord shielded them so that not one hair on their heads was singed. (Daniel 3).

God Permits: There are times when God allows us to suffer “to the death” in order to create something new within us. Whether it be a deep and faulty perspective, a binding habit, an undesirable character flaw, or some aspect we cannot even imagine, God permits a part of us to “die” so that He can plant new life in its place.

Jesus replied, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life." (John 12:23-25).

That Sunday morning I finally heard from God. In my heart, I knew that I was undergoing the third response. I did not know, at that time, what in me was “dying,” but I was deeply comforted just to know that God was at work in me, and I sensed He was guiding me how to pray about my situation.

Prayer: Dear Lord, You didn’t even spare Your own Son, but allowed Him to die in order to create life in us. Just as you created the world out of nothing, I know that You can create something new out of the ashes of my life.

Mount Greylock, MA ( Byways.org)

ONE STEP AT A TIME

One of the fondest memories of my younger years was the summer that I interned as a park ranger at Mount Greylock State Reservation in the Berkshire Mountains. The summit, which tops off at 3,491 feet, is the highest point in Massachusetts and offers a breathtaking view of five states.

I was looking for a serious adventure that summer, so I decided to pitch a tent in the campgrounds and rough it for three months—alone. Nothing stirs my senses more than being submerged in nature. The subtle snapping of a tree limb in the stillness of the woods, the pungent aroma of pine mingled with earth, the prickly sting of cool mountain air on bear skin, the taste of food cooked over an open fire all made for an exhilarating experience, except for one minor detail . . . the out house!

In the mountains, the sun descends early giving way to a thick blanket of darkness at night. Without fail, no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, every evening I would have to trek 100 yards through the woods in order to relieve myself. On cloudy nights, with no moon or stars to light the way, this became a particularly nerve-wracking experience. I was acutely aware of the potential dangers lurking out there—bear, bob cat, skunks and porcupines.

My only source of navigation was a flashlight. Even then, it was impossible to see beyond a few feet at a time. All I could do was plod forward, trusting the light to lead me to my destination. Yet, in the back of mind was the gnawing fear that if the batteries died mid-journey, I’d be hopelessly lost in the dark.

Learning God's Ways

More than two decades have now passed, yet the memories of those nighttime jaunts have crossed my mind countless times over the years. It’s funny how spiritual analogies exist all around us, yet we often fail to perceive them. Looking back, I believe God orchestrated those night time walks as an illustration of an important spiritual truth--God wants us to depend solely upon Him for our direction.

Letting go of my independence has been one of most difficult challenges of my illness. By nature I am a person of high mental energy and a lot of drive. When something blocks my goal, I’m quick to devise a plan B, C, or D. And when I cannot resolve problems, I tend to become easily frustrated—with both myself and with God. When my crisis dragged on for months, I started to resent the way all my plans had been put on hold. It was impossible to project into the future or to work toward anything when my energy was consumed with just making it through one day. I even attempted to reason with God—“Look at me! I’m useless to you in this condition. I can’t even help myself, let alone serve anyone else. How can this possibly be Your will?”

Then I came across a passage of Scripture which reminded me of those night walks, and I sensed the Lord was trying to teach me something new:

After leaving Succoth they camped at Etham on the edge of the desert. By
day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way
and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel
by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by
night left its place in front of the people. (Exodus 13:20-22).

For more than 400 years, the Israelites had lived as slaves under the bondage of the Egyptians, until God miraculously intervened. Using Moses as His instrument of deliverance, He led the Israelites out of darkness and into the wilderness with the intent of bringing them to a new land--a land “flowing with milk and honey.” But the only way to get there was by following God's light. Through this process, I believe God was trying to develop their faith by teaching them to depend on Him one day at a time.

It can be scary to relinquish our sense of control--to find security in the Person and character of God rather than our own ingenuities. But the reward is peace. Particularly when we are suffering or in crisis and life feels like it has spun out of control, the only way to move securely through the darkness is by relinquishing our self-sufficient tendencies to God and by following His light to safer grounds. Just realizing that God was, indeed, using my suffering to develop an understanding of His ways gave me comfort and lifted my spirits. How wonderful to catch even a glimpse of how God uses the baffling circumstances of life for our good.

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path. (Psalm 119:105)."

Prayer: Dear Lord, sometimes I am so self-reliant. I know that your Word teaches me to depend solely on You for all things. Help me to trust You with my future--that whatever becomes of me is completely in Your hands. I can't see where this path is taking me, but I trust Your leading, one step at a time. Amen.

(Moab: http://www.bibleplaces.com/)

BEHIND THE SCENES

"Don't call me Naomi," she told them. "Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the LORD has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The LORD has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me." (Ruth 1:20-21.)

This was the declaration of Naomi, an elderly Jewish woman who had lost her husband and two sons over the course of 10 years. Famine in Israel had driven the family from their home to the land of Moab, a foreign country many miles away. A decade later, Naomi returned to her people with only the clothes on her back and the companionship of her daughter-in-law, Ruth.

While Naomi’s response sounds like an accusation against God, it actually reveals a mature understanding of the truth. Although her perspective was colored from pain, Naomi recognized God’s sovereignty over the circumstances of her life. God, alone, was ultimately in control of her fate.

Some folks will say, “A real Christian would never feel bitter,” yet if that is true, then what are we to make of Naomi's words? What I love about this passage is that God has not hidden the conflicting and objectionable emotions of human beings. Naomi was in anguish and she blamed God for her fate. I can identify with her because I, too, have fallen into pits of bitterness, feeling that God had permitted too much loss in my life. Bitterness is clearly a damaging emotion and certainly not a state of mind that we can afford to maintain. Nevertheless, it is an emotion that we must contend with--to deny it or suppress it does more harm than good. God knows our weaknesses and He is our only hope for overcoming them.

I struggled over my bitter feelings toward God. I didn’t want those emotions, and I knew I needed to change. But I took great comfort from this passage about Naomi. To discover that the saints of the past had also dealt with bitterness helped to dispel the fear that God would reject me because of mine. God’s word opened my understanding to see that He is bigger than my emotions, and that He is willing to help us overcome them if we will be honest with Him.

Even more stunning about this story is this: Although Naomi believed that God had dealt her a raw hand, all the while God had been working behind the scenes, setting her up for one of the deepest honors in the world. Not only was Naomi chosen to bring Ruth into the fold of faith, but Naomi became the grandmother of Ruth’s son, Obed, who became the father of Jesse, who became the father of King David, who eventually led to the birth of Jesus! After reading this story literally dozens of times, it occurred to me that Naomi lived and died never knowing the bigger picture—never seeing God’s long range plans and the way He connected her to the royal lineage of Christ.

Unlike the Old Testament saints, we are privileged to have access to God’s full written word, the Holy Scriptures, so we can peer into the past and witness the unfolding of God’s wonderful plan throughout the centuries. When our hearts cry out, “What is the point of my suffering?” we can know from the book of Ruth that God uses even seemingly unimportant people and events to orchestrate monumental happenings in this world. Naomi’s life is a beautiful demonstration of God’s promise in Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Prayer: Lord, it is so difficult to keep a big-picture perspective, to trust that you are lovingly working behind the scenes to weave my afflictions into your perfect plan. Free my heart of any bitterness and open my eyes to the blessings You have bestowed upon me. Help me to trust You even though I cannot perceive Your purpose. Amen.