Several days ago I battled discouragement for an hour or so. "It's too hard, Daddy!" I cried in the bathroom, after we had another setback. Visions of negative outcomes piled into my mind and I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel Then I remembered that a couple of days earlier, after the first or second setback, I had determined before the Lord that I was NOT going to get rattled by these setbacks. The doctors had all warned us they would occur, and that his ultimate recovery (of breathing, anyway) was not in question. I could trust them to do their best and Joel's body and the Lord to do the rest, and the bumps in the road would not stop us from reaching our goal.
My current challenge, and I think all of ours, is to gain that eternal perspective that Paul writes about in 2 Corinthians 4: "Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comprehension, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." Previously he had written about his "light and momentary" affliction as "afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down, and always carrying in the body the death of Jesus," so I'm guessing it wasn't that light or that momentary.
If I really believed Jesus when he said things like, "My kingdom is not of the world," and "The kingdom of God is within you," and understood the upside-down nature of the laws of the kingdom of God, I would not panic over the various circumstances of this "seen" life. I would constantly ask myself, "How can this circumstance be used to glorify God and make his kingdom more real to me and those around me?" I would trust that the bumps in the road will not stop me from reaching my goal of knowing Christ and making him known.
Lord, I believe - help my unbelief!
Showing posts with label trials. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trials. Show all posts
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Blessings in the Midst of Trials
Lori was buried today. On March 21, the thirteenth anniversary of my mother's death, the sister of my college roommate breathed her last and went to be with the Lord. Last night and today, hundreds of people gathered at the funeral home and her church to remember her life, cry for their loss, and support the family. I was privileged to play the (wonderful grand) piano for the service; it was an honor not only to serve the family and congregation, but also to work with the talented and experienced singers and string players, and to praise the Lord with "Amazing Grace," "It is Well with my Soul," "Blessings" and "Revelation Song." The personal tributes and the sermon inspired us all to emulate Lori's joy, peace and love. She knew Jesus Christ in a very real way, and her life reflected His Spirit in her work, play and relationships before her diagnosis, and in her trust and hope through the last five months of illness and decline.
Reflecting on the many small blessings in the midst of this very big trial, several of Lori's relatives and friends, as well as her pastor, declared their confidence that God was present and at work throughout. From Shelley's ability to quit her job and come three or four days every week to care for her sister, to the timing of Lori's last breath - just days after her husband took a leave of absence from work, and with every member of her family plus friends able to be present - to myriads of little circumstances, they could see the Lord's love and grace in the midst of trouble.
The parallel to a loving parent training a child came to my mind. There are many "big trials" we have to put our children through - from weaning to walking to driving to leaving the nest, and dozens more. Sometimes they want to go through the troubles to get to the prize, but often they don't and we have to use some measure of discipline, force or discomfort to get the job done. When we're good parents, we reassure the children that we are with them - physically and/or emotionally - as they go through the necessary hardships. But they have to go through them. These thoughts comfort me when I think about my mother's death; perhaps they comfort others too.
Reflecting on the many small blessings in the midst of this very big trial, several of Lori's relatives and friends, as well as her pastor, declared their confidence that God was present and at work throughout. From Shelley's ability to quit her job and come three or four days every week to care for her sister, to the timing of Lori's last breath - just days after her husband took a leave of absence from work, and with every member of her family plus friends able to be present - to myriads of little circumstances, they could see the Lord's love and grace in the midst of trouble.
The parallel to a loving parent training a child came to my mind. There are many "big trials" we have to put our children through - from weaning to walking to driving to leaving the nest, and dozens more. Sometimes they want to go through the troubles to get to the prize, but often they don't and we have to use some measure of discipline, force or discomfort to get the job done. When we're good parents, we reassure the children that we are with them - physically and/or emotionally - as they go through the necessary hardships. But they have to go through them. These thoughts comfort me when I think about my mother's death; perhaps they comfort others too.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Lies We Believe
A recently-divorced friend (call her Peggy, since I have no friends by that name) posted on Facebook, "I read that my kids will remember my attitude more than the things I tried to teach them. It made me cry, because my kids had me during the worst years of my life, when I was a stressed-out, depressed person. That's not who I really am. I'm sorry, kids - I wish it could have been different."
This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why. The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.
1. I'm not me some of the time. This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances. Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin. Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self. She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage. But who was stressed-out and depressed? Peggy. Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids? Peggy. Who broke up their unhappy home? Peggy. Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body. She really was, and is, that person.
2. Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims. Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced. Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles. My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.
3. Things couldn't have been any different. Things could have been different. When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better. She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work. She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault. She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never." She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.
This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes. Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise? Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?
I am no better than Peggy. I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them. What will my children remember? I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them. I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us. I pray they will remember my humble moments. And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.
This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why. The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.
1. I'm not me some of the time. This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances. Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin. Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self. She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage. But who was stressed-out and depressed? Peggy. Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids? Peggy. Who broke up their unhappy home? Peggy. Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body. She really was, and is, that person.
2. Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims. Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced. Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles. My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.
3. Things couldn't have been any different. Things could have been different. When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better. She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work. She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault. She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never." She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.
This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes. Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise? Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?
I am no better than Peggy. I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them. What will my children remember? I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them. I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us. I pray they will remember my humble moments. And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.
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