Tag Archives: Suffering

Recognizing and Resting in God’s Wisdom

by Christina Fox, in category Wisdom

SARAH IVILL|CONTRIBUTOR

Have you ever asked questions like these?:

Why am I suffering when I have sought to please the Lord?

Does God really love me?

Will God forgive me of this sin?

How do I handle my child’s anger?

How do I live a life of purity in a sex-crazed culture?

What is the purpose of my life?

Will the Lord save my parents, my in-laws, my siblings, my best friend?

What do we do when such questions spring from our hearts? Perhaps the most common way is to proclaim God’s sovereignty or love. But I want to suggest that we also speak about God’s wisdom.

From creation to the consummation God reveals that He is the only wise God. He is the Creator and He is the King.  

God’s Wisdom in Creation

In six days God spoke light, heaven, earth, seas, plants, trees, sun, moon, stars, sea creatures, birds, and beasts of the earth into existence. He also formed man out of the dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life. Then He made woman from one of man’s ribs (Gen. 1-2).

Significantly, God’s wisdom in creation is one of the ways God responds to Job’s interpretation of his suffering (see Job 38:4-11). When we cannot understand God’s ways in our lives, the remedy is not found in understanding what God is doing, but in knowing God. He is the all-wise Creator…       

Delicious Despair 201

by Christina Fox, in category Grief

ANN MAREE GOUDZWAARD|CONTRIBUTOR

My entire backyard burst with the colors of spring. Everything bloomed. It was a perfect, 70-degree day and the landscape showed off. I looked out my window and saw the wicker chairs scattered under the pergola and balloons dotted on the boulders strategically situated throughout the yard. When we invested in landscaping last year, I had visions of hosting joyful events. The picturesque backdrop was perfect for a tea party or bridal shower. In fact, we planned to host a “baby sprinkle” for my daughter that very day. (A “sprinkle” is a baby shower for couples who already have children.) Cori and Brett had all they needed for two kids, but then they found out they were expecting twins. So, we planned a sprinkle to help them provide for multiple babies.

We hosted a memorial for the twins (Deacon and Hallie) that day instead.

In 2020, the pandemic reminded us to preface our plans with “if the Lord wills.” Everyone’s agenda hit a “hard stop,” and we realized how precarious goals are. For our family, 2021 ushered in the opportunity to experience that truth in real time. My husband and I planned for chaotic bliss in adding a twelfth and thirteenth grandchild to our already bustling family. Together with our other children, we coordinated our calendars to support Cori and Brett at her due date. God had another plan. The Lord willed something different. Something more difficult. An accommodation we had no idea we would need to make. And so began my education in grief.

What’s essential in the grief process is to try and grasp God’s redemptive plans. This takes time. It may even last indefinitely. In Delicious Despair 101, I wrote that Martin Luther fully expected the pain of suffering to result in a transformation.[1] For instance, in opposition to the “first step” of grief (denial)[2], candor looks suffering in the face and says, “Yes, that really happened.” Candor acknowledges devastation, but it also asks, “Now what do I do?” Wallowing in self-pity over the events God ordains is antithetical to biblical grieving. In 1 Thess. 4:13, Paul instructs mourners not to grieve as those without hope. So, we must keep moving through our grief and actively seek wisdom to reinterpret what happened as perfect and good…

Delicious Despair

by Christina Fox, in category Grief

ANN MAREE GOUDZWAARD|CONTRIBUTOR

It was date night. My husband and I were enjoying our first outing in over a year. Our favorite restaurant looked a lot more like a family night; kids and babies were everywhere. My eyes kept connecting with the sweet baby boy at the table next to us. He was cooing in his daddy’s arms while his father gently rocked him. He was content despite all the commotion.

I’ve never been much of a baby person. I prefer hanging out with teenagers. But ever since my twin grandchildren were born and passed too soon, I’ve found my eyes lingering on chubby cheeks and toothless smiles. Deacon and Hallie’s brief life outside the womb created an emptiness in my arms for something I had but lost. The void is overwhelming.

So, instead of growing impatient with the noise of children and a baby’s laughter, I smiled.

As we were leaving, I turned to stand and saw the baby boy seated in a Bumbo on his table happily eating his dinner. I smiled at him. He smiled at me. But, in a flash my joy turned into ugly tears because, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a second Bumbo. Seated next to the baby boy was his sister. His twin sister. My eyes went back and forth between them. Was I seeing correctly? Were twins really sitting right in front of me?

Torrents of grief washed over me. I couldn’t stand. I looked to my husband to confirm the scene. He saw the shock in my eyes. He wrapped his arm around my heaving shoulders and helped me walk out of the restaurant. I barely made it to the car.

In an instant, I found myself back to square one. Denial. It’s typically the first “step”[1] of grieving.  It had only been a little over two weeks since our grandchildren’s death and, in a heartbeat, I was once again questioning, “Did that really happen? Did mourning really crash into our family’s world? Were the sweet little babies we expected to love and cradle ushered into the presence of God instead?”

Grieving is not passive. Suffering isn’t something that just happens to you and then you ride a wave of emotions until the circumstances quell. Suffering is like school, and grieving is how we accomplish the coursework. It’s not the kind of education anyone willingly signs up for. But, when devastation enters our lives, we are automatically enrolled into the seminar on suffering. And, just as we would prepare for any class, we must download the syllabus and begin to faithfully complete the assignments…

I Didn’t Sign Up For This!

by Christina Fox, in category Encouragement

Have you ever exclaimed, “I didn’t sign up for this!”? Most of us have likely heard or read it somewhere, perhaps spoken it in jest or real pain, seething anger or confused disappointment. This______ (fill in the blank) is not what you hoped for, anticipated, or expected. You prayed, asked for God’s help, waited, moved forward and:

The job would that was supposed to be fulfilling and a wonderful way to spend eight hours of your day? Your boss makes life miserable for you.
Your marriage isn’t the place of emotional intimacy or sexual faithfulness you expected and vowed to keep yourself.
You obeyed Jesus, giving up relationships that you knew were sinful, yet were a source of love and affection. Instead of the “all things” being used for good, you’re left with loneliness and deferred hopes.
You moved by faith into the costly, arduous, emotional, adoption process and now life is complicated and exhausting as scars from your child’s pre-adoption years manifest daily in overwhelmingly sad ways.
You prayed for God’s help to remain sexually obedient, yet the temptations still rage. How is that fair?!

Sigh. Was Anne of Green Gables right, that the life we thought we signed up for eventually becomes a “… perfect graveyard of buried hopes”?[1]

Jesus chose you and ‘signed you up’ to share in his life.

Friends, what did we sign up for when we became followers of Jesus? Or asking it another way, what did we understand the Christian life to entail once we believed, committed, and began to follow Jesus? Were you told that Jesus blesses his followers with abundance and ease as a reward for forsaking sin, especially the ones we most enjoy? Maybe like many of us, you just assumed that a loving, gracious God would remove troubles, because after all, he has the power to do so!..

Seasons of the Soul

by Christina Fox, in category Suffering

PATSY KUIPERS|GUEST

Editor’s Note: The following is an adapted excerpt from Patsy Kuiper’s new book, Be Still: Quiet Moments with God in my Garden.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted.
 Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

Nature’s Seasons

I once attended a presentation where the speaker began with, “Summer, fall, and winter are seasons – spring  is a miracle.” I’ve thought about her comment every spring since. Early warm spells begin to nudge plants from their slumber in January here in the South. Witchhazel, Lenten roses, and paperbush start the floral parade that continues for multiple weeks as plants take turns in the spotlight. Trees, flowers, baby birds – all embody the joyful message of rebirth, which in turn stimulates hope and rejuvenation in us.

But spring gives way to summer, and tender ephemerals[1] disappear for another year as heat-loving specimens flourish.  Summer annuals and perennials bloom, then set and disperse their seeds before beginning their decline. Fall arrives. Crops are ripe for harvest, the fruit of spring planting and summer tending. Soon daylight hours decrease, as does the temperature, and autumnal leaves create a riotous display of color – one last hurrah before they let go and blanket the ground for the winter.

Ah, winter. Based on my observations, I’ve concluded it is the most misunderstood, under-appreciated season, at least from a gardening standpoint. Those unfamiliar with the ways of plants scan the leafless, apparently lifeless landscape and pronounce, “everything’s dead.” I used to think that too, but my horticulture studies dissuaded me from that notion. For instance, some seeds won’t germinate without scarification,[2] and some bulbs won’t bloom without adequate chill time. Many plants depend on the decreased daylight and increased darkness that accompany winter to flower at the appropriate time.

My newfound knowledge has given me a different perspective…

The Comfort of Covenant Theology

by Christina Fox, in category Covenant Theology

SARAH IVILL|CONTRIBUTOR

One of the things I love to do is sing covenant theology with my children. We have CDs that put the First Catechism: Teaching Children Bible Truths to music, as well as CDs that put the Westminster Shorter Catechism to music. I love both! I have found that we learn the questions and answers better when we sing them. Not only do I love to hear my children sing these truths, I love to sing them too. Whether I’m singing the catechism while doing chores, or while homeschooling, the truths of covenant theology comfort me.   

Perhaps comfort isn’t the first thing you think of when you hear “covenant theology.” Maybe you’re not even sure what covenant theology is, or if you do, maybe you aren’t confident in explaining it to others. I want to help you associate covenant theology with comfort, and hopefully be better able to teach it to others.

We need comfort on a daily basis, and we don’t want to get it from the wrong sources, such as food, shopping, or media. We want to remember that the covenant-making and covenant-keeping God is with us in our physical pain. He is with us in that messy relationship. He is with us as we battle habitual sin. And He is with us as we engage in service.  

Five Ways Covenant Theology is a Comfort

Covenant theology is a comfort because it teaches us that God is the Creator and Redeemer who wants to be in a relationship with His people. He created us to glorify Him and enjoy Him forever, so our greatest satisfaction will always be found in Him. He could have chosen to relate to His people in any number of ways, but He chose to relate to us by way of covenant. We could not have initiated a relationship with God, but amazingly He initiated one with His people. This isn’t a relationship that can be broken; it’s binding. And this isn’t a relationship without structure. It’s grounded in His grace and promises. Furthermore, this isn’t a relationship without security. The blood of God’s Son, Jesus Christ, secures it.

Covenant theology is a comfort because it teaches us the promise of God’s presence…

Remember the Red Sea Road

by Christina Fox, in category Suffering

When my youngest was little, we took her up the St. Louis Arch. I was excited to have my youngest join me for this notorious St. Louis excursion, and when we entered the cart that makes the slow trek up the steel structure, with excitement I said, “Are you ready?” And then she screamed.

I attempted to reassure my daughter, who listened to absolutely none of my comforting words, and then resorted to lollipops and singing. But none of my tricks removed the panic…until we got to the top. With the snap of a finger, all was well again, and she couldn’t get enough of the people below who “looked like ants.” 

When we visited the arch again several years later, my tween girl seemed a little nervous about the impending cart ride. So, I reminded her multiple times of the fact that she made it up fine the last time, and that she loved the experience once at the top. Remember how much you liked it? Remember? But apparently, she did not because when we entered the cart, she screamed.

She was fine once at the top, and while she admired the incredible view, she said, “Mom, next time just remind me that the ride is not so bad.”

Right.

The Red Sea Road

In the book of Exodus, the Israelites also struggled to remember how they had been brought through a great trial. In chapter 14, God’s people are pursued by Pharaoh and his army. And this was not a small group chasing them; we’re told Pharaoh had his horses, chariots, horseman, his entire army. Understandably, the Israelites were exceedingly afraid!..

Where do Your Burdens Carry You?

by Christina Fox, in category Suffering

Our burdens carry us somewhere. Where do your burdens carry you? 

2 Corinthians 12 records a burden Paul carried, a thorn in his flesh. Three times Paul pleaded with God to remove it. But to keep Paul humble, God would not remove it. Paul’s response was to see his suffering as a reason for rejoicing because it revealed Christ’s power at work. “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Cor 12:10)

A Present-Day Example

When I think of people today who have carried burdens for long periods of times, I think of Joni Eareckson Tada. If you have read any of her books you know that Joni attempted a dive into shallow water in the Chesapeake Bay. The moment her head crunched against the sand bottom, she knew she was in trouble. She recalls feeling like her life was over when she learned she was permanently paralyzed.

Joni was a Christian at the time and spent those early months praying for healing, getting anointed with oil, confessing every sin that she could recall and attending one healing service after another, until finally she whimpered, “I cannot live this way. I’m so lost. God, show me how to live.” Her burdens drove her to Christ where for over 50 years she has lived in a wheelchair, and describes her life as dying daily to self and rising with Jesus.

Joni wrote this about her life: “A ‘no’ answer to my request for a miraculous physical healing has meant purged sin, a love for the lost, increased compassion, stretched hope, an appetite for grace, an increase of faith, a happy longing for heaven, a desire to serve, a delight in prayer, and a hunger for His Word. Oh, bless the stern schoolmaster that is my wheelchair!” The thorn in Joni’s side has never been removed. Her burden carried her straight to Christ’s arms…

Looking at the Cross Through the Lens of Christmas: Hope for Excruciating Moments

by Christina Fox, in category Christmas

ELIZABETH TURNAGE|CONTRIBUTOR

Mary’s pain must have been excruciating. For how could a mother watch her son, the supposed Savior of the world, be crucified without feeling that agony herself? In the most excruciating moment of her life, what did Mary remember of the first Christmas, and how did it give her hope? In the most excruciating moments of our lives, what can we remember, and how can those memories give us hope?

As the frenzied crowd shouted around her, “Crucify him!” did she remember a night over thirty years ago? Into the quiet of that night, the bright and fearsome angel Gabriel had burst with a troubling announcement, “You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus” (Luke 1:31).

As Pilate sentenced Jesus to death by crucifixion, did she remember how she and her cousin Elizabeth had celebrated Gabriel’s announcement and the early days of their pregnancies together?

As Pilate scrawled out the word “King of the Jews” on a makeshift sign, did she remember the angel’s words, “…and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:33)?

As she watched the life leak out of Jesus, did she wonder how a dying king could reign forever? Did she remember Gabriel’s assurance, “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37)? Did she remember how easily she had surrendered to God’s plan, voicing her faith, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38)?

As the Roman soldiers ripped her son’s clothes, did she remember swaddling Jesus in a soft cloth the night she gave birth to him in the stable, because there was “no room for them in the inn” (Luke 2:27)?

As Jesus called to her from the cross, “Woman, behold your son,” and pointed to his beloved disciple, John, did she remember gazing into the shining dark eyes of her newborn son, the Savior of the world?

As she heard Jesus cry out, “It is finished,” did she remember the “impossible” beginning of Jesus’ life? Did that memory of the miraculous lead her to wonder if life could yet again emerge from death?…

Call Me Bitter: From Recovery to Restoration

by Christina Fox, in category Suffering

Editor’s Note: The following is adapted from Elizabeth’s devotional, From Recovery to Restoration: 60 Meditations for Finding Peace & Hope in Crisis:

Crisis and Recovery

Rain pounds the windows and roof as I type. Tropical Storm Marco is making its way through the Gulf coast, so far wreaking only a minimum of havoc. Tropical Storm Laura follows fast, also threatening to flood homes and businesses along the Gulf Coast. Meanwhile, in California, the Lightning Siege wildfire rages, having torched some 1.5 million acres already. So much destruction, even as hundreds of thousands of lives have been lost to the coronavirus pandemic.

While these current crises rage, many of us are facing personal crises, radically life-altering events: a bad diagnosis, a daughter’s divorce, a lifetime of injustice, a major surgery. The crises and recoveries we face can plunge us into a state of chaos and confusion, disorder and depression. Shalom has been shattered, equilibrium lost. Despair threatens hope. Strife assaults peace. What we yearn for is a return to normal, a way to regain what was lost in the crisis. A recovery.

From Recovery to Restoration

Although we may find our way to a new normal after a crisis, we may never fully regain what we lost in the shattering. And yet, there may be hope.

In literature, crisis refers to a turning point in the story. What if our crisis presents a turning point in our story? What if our season in recovery leads us to unearth treasure even richer than what we lost?  Scripture suggests that God has something more for us in crisis and recovery. What if we could discover the genuine hope of final restoration in our recovery? What if we could discover…

Restored trust in the God who allowed this suffering?

Recognition of our profound need for a Savior who has rescued us from sin?

Renewal of our hearts, souls, bodies, and minds, so that we may live and love like Jesus?…