Epicenter: Rome (Exchanging Death for Life) — Wednesday
Psalm 13:1
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? (NIV)
When suffering, desperation is normal. Author Joe Bayly tells about a conversation with a woman who visited his home after his five-year-old son died of cancer. She suggested that he might not have died if Joe had more faith.
“Do you really believe that?” he asked.
“Yes, I do,” she said.
“Do you believe that enough to pray that your son will become sick with leukemia so that you can prove your faith?”
After a long silence, she said, “No… I guess I don’t.”
You know what I think? Perhaps we should save our easy answers for math problems, not human suffering. Maybe a better question is, “How can I face suffering?” And dare I add, “grow from it?”
Friend, don’t deny your pain. Never be too religious to hurt. Some Christians say, “Praise the Lord anyhow!” I find that depressing, not encouraging. Life isn’t a Norman Rockwell holiday painting; that’s not reality. Reality is that our dysfunctional parents were deeply flawed. Reality is that good friends sometimes desert us. Reality is that miscarriages are jolting. Reality is that wayward teenagers can wrench your heart out. Reality is that losing a job creates desperation. Reality is that sexual or spousal abuse causes inexplicable agony. Reality is that the whole world is shot through with heartache, and sometimes you and I are caught in the middle of it. When tragedy comes, admit your anger, disappointment, fear, and desperation. It’s okay, because it’s real.
Then, dear one, don’t waste your pain—grow from it. Cynicism and bitterness accomplish nothing. Stay in the game. Fight one more round. Never give up. You can never win if you quit. Paul wrote, “We know that our suffering gives us the strength to go on. The strength to go on produces character. Character produces hope” (Romans 5:3-4, NIRV).
Hope. We’ll talk about that tomorrow. But one last thing today: When pain comes, move toward God, not away. Back in the days when teachers paddled unruly students, I got my fair share of their barbarism. But along the way, I learned that if I moved closer toward the paddle, there wasn’t as much leverage and it didn’t hurt as bad. I know—that’s a terrible illustration, but you probably won’t forget it, will you?!
Wednesday’s Reflection
Friend, when trials come, when hurt is closer than your last breath, when you feel like you can’t go on—just get nearer to the Father. That’s what Jesus did, even on the Cross. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit,” He said (Luke 23:46, NIV). There’s nowhere else to go, friend. You know that.
