On Suffering

I haven’t updated in a couple of weeks, and no, it’s not because I’ve been down in the depths of despair. The last you heard, I was. In fact, it’s been the complete opposite, and so I must thank you for your fervent and steady prayers of intercession on my behalf.

My parents bought me a plane ticket and I slipped away to North Carolina to visit my aunt and uncle. I had mounds of time to myself to read, lounge, heart-to-heart conversations with my aunt, and really dig into my Vann family history (pappy’s side). I realized that I’m a lot like my aunt (dad’s sister), and frankly, had such a good time I forgot I was supposed to be depressed. I don’t know that I’ve completely come to grips with the events in my life of which I had, and continue to have, no control, but I did find some semblance of peace and renewal in the hope of my eternity, of which I had temporarily lost sight.

One thing that helped was reading a book my counselor recommended…because yes, I did begin counseling. I read “When God Weeps” by Joni Eareckson Tada and some other guy. This book penetrated my soul in ways nothing else has, for the book was all about suffering. If you know anything about the author, she’s famed for her story of suffering. She’s paralyzed from a dive accident as a teenager and found Christ.

I could write an entire blog about this book; it was just that good, especially if you’ve suffered tremendously. I will simply summarize a few of the insights I gleaned.

• Those of us who are Christians forget that we’re actually promised suffering. Our modern day sensibilities are averse to suffering, for we think our status as “little Christ’s” precludes us from encountering real, and debilitating, suffering. Our counterparts in other parts of the world could teach us a thing or two. As such, we’re ill equipped when monumental suffering and tremendous trials occur; we flounder and faint. I had two such weeks.
  
  
• Anything I’ve felt as a result of suffering, Christ has already experienced. He is intimately acquainted with grief and with sorrow. Remember, as He was spread across that cross, with nothing but nails keeping Him there, He bore the brunt of every sin you ever committed, every sin I’ve ever committed, and the rest of the world’s upon His shoulders. When God looked at His very own Son (and He cannot look upon sin) what was he thinking or saying? He was meeting out the punishment each of us deserve on the most innocent of men…His Son. Re-read Isaiah 53 and gain a whole new appreciation for what Christ has done for you. I did. I cried all the way through it. Christ endured more than any of us ever will because of His great love for us.
  
  
• The more I suffer, the greater the capacity I have for Christ. We are promised suffering, not simply because evil exists in the world, but also to become more like Christ. The more I suffer, the greater my understanding of what He felt and went through, and the greater my understanding, the more I love my God for what He did for me. This whole time, I’ve incorrectly thought that God allowed me to lose my child and my small bowel because He knew I’d give Him glory. WRONG. He’s more concerned about my heart than He is my small bowel. He’s more concerned about me loving Him with my entire being than He is with my grief. He’s more concerned with my relationship to Him than anything else. That’s not to say that He is unconcerned with those things that trouble me or cause me grief, but His goal is my heart. My goal should be His heart. Does this mean my troubles will pass? Maybe. Maybe not. When I suffer, and I have suffered so deeply, I need God more.
  
  
• Does God rejoice in suffering? Rejoice in evil? Rejoice in the tribulation of His people? Of course not. He grieves, but He “permits what he hates to achieve what he loves.” (When God Weeps, 84). I love that quote. Additionally, “when we suffer and handle it with grace, we’re like walking billboards advertising the positive way God works in the life of someone who suffers.” (101)
  
  As such, this is my prayer: God, grant me the ability to see with your eyes, with eyes that have suffered and overcome. Let me be gracious, kind, and loving, no matter my physical or emotional ailments. Let me shine for you. Keep me honest; keep me true. Keep my humble. Though I’ve begged for healing, what I now mean is simply grant me a greater capacity for knowing and loving you. Help me share what I have learned, and when I feel close to despair again, help me remember Philippians 1:19-20: “19 for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. 20 I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.” Amen.