(I started typing this up a couple months ago, and just got around to finishing it...it was good to remember some of these things. )

(From my journal on 9/30/10...)

"The foolishness in thinking that God won't be faithful to you is not just that this signifies a doubt concerning the character of God, but also that it reveals an idea concerning ourself that is false: that you are important. You are important to God, but that is simplly an outpouring of grace - you deserve none of it. And if your importance lies in the grace that exists because of the character of God, then you are important, but this is only because of God's mercy. This is why we can trust that God will care for us, and that He will be faithful: Our importance is rooted not in ourselves, but in His character. He can no more cease being faithful to us than He can cease being Who He is."

I was thinking about this a lot this morning. It's amazing how we can think that our trials are more important than the trials that someone else faces...because we are more concerned about what we could lose than what someone else could lose. And this is primarily because we have this idea that we are more important than they are. It is terrible when you actually get down to the heart of matters and realize how selfish you are. :-)

Clearly, though, if our importance is rooted in Who God is and not who we are, we are all equally important to God and equally instrumental in His plan for His glory. He will take care of us...so that takes a big weight off our shoulders and mind, and opens our hands and hearts for concern for others. The moments that have been easiest for me in the past months were moments where I was carried up in someone elses trial that seemed much bigger than my own, or when I was witnessing the suffering of another that made me completely caught up in compassion for them. I so often felt dry for compassion from others, and here I could stop thinking of myself and pour it out on others who were in need of compassion. Compassion is such a beautiful thing -- and where would compassion be without suffering? As Jesus wept for Lazurus, for Mary and Martha and their pain, when He knew He had all power to reverse the loss they were experiencing and even would do so very soon! But if He had not allowed that suffering and loss to be experienced, we would not have been able to see His compassion as He wept for those He loved, or His power as He raised Lazurus from the dead.

These paragraphs from John Piper's book "When the Darkness Will Not Lift" have made me think about this a lot:

“How Bill Leslie became a watered garden and a spring: He told of a near breakdown that he had and how a spiritual mentor directed him to Isaiah 58. He said it was verses 10–11 that rescued him from a season of darkness marked by feelings of exhaustion, burnout, and a dead-end ministry The text says:

'And if you pour yourself out for the hungry, and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness, and your gloom will become like midday. And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail.'

What struck Pastor Leslie so powerfully was the fact that if we pour ourselves out for others, God promises to make us like a watered garden—that is, we will receive the water we need for refreshment and joy. But even more: we will thus be a spring of water that does not fail—for others, for the demanding, exhausting, draining ministry of urban self-giving. He saw that God’s way of lifting gloom and turning it into light was to pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted. This gave him a pattern of divine life that got him through his crisis and kept him going for the rest of his days.
God has made us to flourish by being spent for others. Jesus said, “it is more blessed to give than to receive.” Most of us do not choose against this life of outpouring, we drift away from it. We confuse pressure and family life and stresses at work with Christian sacrifice, when in fact much of it has little to do with meeting the needs of the hungry and afflicted and perishing.”

Leave it to Me, Child, leave it to Me,
Dearer thy garden to Me than to thee,
Lift up thy heart, Child, lift up thine eyes,
Naught can defeat Me, naught can surprise.

Leave it to me, Child, leave it to Me,
Trust in the Wall of Fire, look up and see
Stars in their courses shine through the night
Both are alike to Me -- darkness and light.

Leave it to Me, Child, leave it to Me,
Let stop the burden too heavy for thee.
That which I will, My Hand shall perform,
Fair are the lilies that weather the storm.

:: Amy Carmichael

Journal entry from December 12, 2005

"But I know You would never lead me down a wrong path to the purpose of my own detriment... And I know that You are faithful to those who fear Your Name, that Your eyes 'run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward [You]'.

"I believe You would not deceive me...

'But Zion said, "The Lord has forsaken me; my LORD has forgotten me." Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion the son o her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you...' " (Isaiah 49:14-15)

Behold the mercy of our King,
Who takes from death its bitter sting,
And by His blood, and often ours,
Brings triumph out of hostile pow’rs,
And paints, with crimson, earth and soul
Until the bloody work is whole.
What we have lost God will restore -
That, and Himself, forevermore,
When He is finished with His art;
The quiet worship of our heart.
When God creates a humble hush,
And makes Leviathan His brush,
It won’t be long before the rod
Becomes the tender kiss of God.

-- John Piper, The Misery of Job and the Mercy of God

By healing or death, I know that one day this trial will be over. That fills me with hope; but it also fills me with urgency -- to hold on to all that God has been enabling me to see! I do not want to forget what I have learned, and I pray so earnestly that the Lord will let me hold fast to the ways He has caused me to grow. "Before I was afflicted, I went astray, but now I keep your word."

This is why I want to journal, to help me remember. Just as it is so powerful to be able to read what I have learned from past experiences, I know someday this will also be a lesson of the past.

What I want to remember...

:: Humility. We are weak. Completely incapable and helpless apart from God's mercy. My ability to perform well DOES NOT MATTER ALREADY!!!!! What I am able to do is the grace of God, and not anything of my own. My physical, emotional, mental and spiritual strength comes from God. Instead of always thinking that I don't measure up, I need humility; I need to realize that what I can't do is no surprise, that I really am nothing apart from Christ, capable of nothing apart from Him. It is what I CAN do that is the miracle; it is a miracle that God enables me to do anything at all. Instead of demanding that I should be able to do more, I need to rest in the gift of just being alive, and enjoying the ways God has made me able to serve. If I am striving, then I am trying to do things on my own strength -- I can add nothing to what Christ has done. And where I see my helplessness, I should see this as an opportunity for my greater realization of HIS POWER and my weakness A great thought: If apart from Christ I am not capable of any success, then apart from Christ I cannot fail either. A dead man can't fail to breathe. I should expect nothing of myself, but great things of Christ in me! And praise Him for every single (even seemingly small) thing He enables me to do.

:: Priorities. Some things that I do really don't matter that much. That doesn't mean I shouldn't do them, but I should realize what they are in light of my priorities. I am talking of things like cooking meals, having a perfect schedule with which to run my house, keeping my house clean and neat at all times, and in general keeping that "perfect housewife" image. I cannot tell you how many days in the last 3 months have NOT looked like the above picture! And my family survived. You might be thinking "what else does a wife and mom do?". The answer is, a lot. The things that my husband and kids need most from me are the intangible: my love. My time. My desire and ability to listen. My interest in everything that matters to them. My prayers. The strength that I find IN GOD and in His word, and the hope I can give them from understanding His promises to us. Understanding what the gospel means for me, what it means for them, and living and behaving towards them in a way that reflects that understanding. Being willing to set aside everything to just be there for them, and being sensitive to their needs and desires. Them being my highest priority. What that looks like on a day-to-day basis is often very practical, and serving them by giving them a warm and clean environment with good food to enjoy is certainly apart of that. But it is easy to forget why we really do those things. If the practical things fall apart, we will find ways to get through. But what a loss if we forget why we do them, and for Whom.

:: Evangelism. I don't mean in my head, or in my performance, but in my heart. God has really been opening my eyes to a lot on this one lately, and I am so thankful and praise Him for it! While I have been sick, I have begun to view others differently...I feel a closeness to those who are hurting in the world that I never did before. I always used to see the lost as another species from me -- we were from different worlds. But during these recent physical struggles, I have seen that we are all suffering from the same thing...the effects of sin in the world and in our own bodies and hearts. I hate the sin I see in the world, and the effects of sin in my life, and all the suffering it brings -- and this moves me to contrition and compassion. We were all born in sin, all have been slaves to sin. Before God adopted and made me HIS child through the saving blood of Christ, I had the same father that they did. And I did nothing to deserve this adoption! I deserve the condition that they are currently in, and the punishment that they will receive. Before I was adopted, they were my siblings. Everything that now separates me from them is the mercy of God...righteousness, a love for God and His truth, a love for His people, and the freedom to live as God has intended for us to. Seeing them should be a constant reminder to me of what I was saved from -- the effects, consequences, and eternal punishment of sin. And that is what I deserve. If God has been so gracious to me, one who deserved grace no more than they do, how can I not plead with God for them, having faith in His mercy and trusting that He does all things for a good purpose?

It is 2 am, and I can't sleep. This time, I didn't wake up because I couldn't breathe; it was a nightmare, and I knew I couldn't sleep until I had fought off my fears with the Word of God. Being so exhausted physically, I just wanted to go back to sleep and forget my spiritual needs...

God continues to remind me that with my current physical struggles I am very much in a spiritual battle as well; they can't be separated. The only battle that I must always win is the spiritual -- it is the only one I am promised to win, through Christ. And He has overcome death! That realization is so, so powerful.

Reading through old journals has really encouraged me lately. Although at this point of my life I would say that this is by far the most difficult struggle I have found myself dealing with for such a long period of time, it is so good to be reminded of the trials that God has brought me through, and the promises that held me up then. There have been a few trials that I particularly remember being very dark, and in the middle of them it was also hard to see that God was engineering my circumstances for my good. And would He really be faithful? So much seemed to be at risk if He didn't follow through. It really seemed at times that my whole life would be ruined forever if He didn't, but every time, He has proven Himself so faithful and so good. And one day I know I will be able to say the same of what He is doing in my life now.

I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints.

You hold my eyelids open;
am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old,
the years long ago.
I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;
let me meditate in my heart.”Then my spirit made a diligent search:
“Will the Lord spurn forever,
and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?”

Then I said, “I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”

I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph.

When the waters saw you, O God,
when the waters saw you, they were afraid;
indeed, the deep trembled.
The clouds poured out water;
the skies gave forth thunder;
Your arrows flashed on every side.
The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
Your lightnings lighted up the world;
the earth trembled and shook.
Your way was through the sea,
Your path through the great waters;
yet Your footprints were unseen.
You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

::Psalm 77

O LORD, God of my salvation,
I have cried out day and night before You.
Let my prayer come before You;
Incline Your ear to my cry.

For my soul is full of troubles,
And my life draws near to the grave.
I am counted with those who go down to the pit;
I am like a man who has no strength,
Adrift among the dead,
Like the slain who lie in the grave,
Whom You remember no more,
And who are cut off from Your hand.

You have laid me in the lowest pit,
In darkness, in the depths.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
And You have afflicted me with all Your waves.
You have put away my acquaintances far from me;
You have made me an abomination to them;
I am shut up, and I cannot get out;
My eye wastes away because of affliction.

LORD, I have called daily upon You;
I have stretched out my hands to You.
Will You work wonders for the dead?
Shall the dead arise and praise You?
Shall Your lovingkindness be declared in the grave?
Or Your faithfulness in the place of destruction?
Shall Your wonders be known in the dark?
And Your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?

But to You I have cried out, O LORD,
And in the morning my prayer comes before You.
LORD, why do You cast off my soul?
Why do You hide Your face from me?
I have been afflicted and ready to die from my youth;
I suffer Your terrors;
I am distraught.
Your fierce wrath has gone over me;
Your terrors have cut me off.
They came around me all day long like water;
They engulfed me altogether.
Loved one and friend You have put far from me,
And my acquaintances into darkness.

:: Psalm 88

"Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us." (Ps.62:8)

Yesterday was very hard. I had one really bad episode after a day of extreme weakness: I became so weak and faint that I had to lay down, but even then it took effort to just breathe. My head began to feel very faint...was I going to die? I can't tell you how many times I wondered that yesterday. I was afraid. At the peak of my weakness, my body began a strange cycle of repetitive tensing -- all of my muscles tightening at once over and over again. The weakness I felt subsided some after that...but it still hasn't gone away, and this morning I am praying for the grace to get through another day with so many unknowns.

"I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the LORD. The LORD has disciplined me severely, but He has not given me over to death." -- Ps. 118:17-18

I wonder what gave David confidence to say that? He must have felt sure that God was not going to let him die at that time. I wish I had that confidence. Not that I am afraid of dying; but I am afraid of how I might die. And I don't want to die like this.

This verse comforts me: "Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His saints." (Ps 117:15) I don't know when God will have me die, and I don't know how it will happen...but I know that my death is precious to Him, just as my life is. And that all that He does is for my good. We serve a God Who is "merciful and gracious, abounding in steadfast love"!

My confidence must be in Who He IS. He has let me go through so much, that I fear where He might take me next. But "He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust"(Ps 103:14). And even what He has allowed is because of His mercy to me. I have to keep remembering that. His promises keep us. "THIS is my comfort in my affliction, that Your promise gives me life"! (Ps 119:50)

God of the day and of the night, in me there is darkness, but with You there is light. I am alone, but You will not leave me. I am weak, but You will come to my help. I am restless, but You are my peace. I am in haste, but You are the God of infinite patience. I am confused and lost, but You are eternal wisdom and You direct my path; now and for ever. Amen
–Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 1906-1945

In You, O Lord, do I take refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
in your righteousness deliver me!
Incline your ear to me;
rescue me speedily!
Be a rock of refuge for me,
a strong fortress to save me!

For You are my rock and my fortress;
and for Your name's sake You lead me and guide me;
You take me out of the net they have hidden for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into Your hand I commit my spirit;
You have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.

I hate those who pay regard to worthless idols,
but I trust in the Lord.
I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love,
because You have seen my affliction;
You have known the distress of my soul,
and you have not delivered me into the hand of the enemy;
you have set my feet in a broad place.

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress;
my eye is wasted from grief;
my soul and my body also.
For my life is spent with sorrow,
and my years with sighing;
my strength fails because of my iniquity,
and my bones waste away.

Because of all my adversaries I have become a reproach,
especially to my neighbors,
and an object of dread to my acquaintances;
those who see me in the street flee from me.
I have been forgotten like one who is dead;
I have become like a broken vessel.
For I hear the whispering of many—
terror on every side!—
as they scheme together against me,
as they plot to take my life.

But I trust in You, O Lord;
I say, “You are my God.”
My times are in Your hand;
rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors!
Make Your face shine on Your servant;
save me in Your steadfast love!
O Lord, let me not be put to shame,
for I call upon you;
let the wicked be put to shame;
let them go silently to Sheol.
Let the lying lips be mute,
which speak insolently against the righteous
in pride and contempt.

Oh, how abundant is Your goodness,
which you have stored up for those who fear You
and worked for those who take refuge in You,
in the sight of the children of mankind!
In the cover of Your presence you hide them
from the plots of men;
you store them in your shelter
from the strife of tongues.

Blessed be the Lord,
for he has wondrously shown his steadfast love to me
when I was in a besieged city.
I had said in my alarm,
“I am cut off from Your sight.”
But You heard the voice of my pleas for mercy
when I cried to You for help.

Love the Lord, all you His saints!
The Lord preserves the faithful
but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride.
Be strong, and let your heart take courage,
all you who wait for the Lord!

:: Psalm 31

"Who are you?" He said, scarcely above a whisper.
"One who has waited long for you to speak," said the thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep.
"Are you - Are you a giant?" asked Shasta.
"You might call me a giant," said the Large Voice. "But I am not like the creatures you call giants."
"I can't see you at all," said Shasta, after staring very hard.
Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, "You're not - not something dead, are you? Oh, please - please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!"

Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hands and face.
"There," it said, "that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows."

Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and about all their dangers at Thashbaan and about the night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since he had had anything to eat.

“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice.

“Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?”said Shasta.

“There was only one lion,” said the Voice.

“What on earth do you mean?”I’ve just told you there were at least two the first night, and –“

“There was only one: but he was swift of foot.”

“How do you know?”

“I was the lion.” And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

“Then it was you who wounded Aravis?”

“It was I.”

“But what for?”

“Child,”said the Voice, “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no-one any story but his own.”

“Who are you?” asked Shasta.

“Myself,” said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again “Myself,” loud and clear and gay: and then the third time “Myself,” whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all around you as if the leaves rustled with it."

-- C.S. Lewis The Horse and His Boy

I love how C.S. Lewis depicts our limitations. Shasta is convinced there is nothing that could have been "lucky" about his life, and is feeling very sorry for himself. Aslan makes him see his blindness -- that the very things that he felt were the most unfortunate of his life were really the most wonderful of all.

Sometimes I feel so blind, just like Shasta. In those moments, it really doesn't seem at all possible that anything could make this worth it, and I just wish God would let me die (very dramatic, I know -- I'm just being real! :-P). But then I have other moments that hint of something so beautiful and so full of the nearness of God, that I almost -- almost -- find myself praying that it wouldn't end. And someday I know I will see everything clearly, and I will be praising God for all the things I couldn't see to praise Him for now. I am so thankful for the grace that has allowed me to see the little bit that I do.

"I know now, Lord, why You utter no answer. You are Yourself the answer. Before Your face all questions die away. What other answer would suffice?" -- C.S. Lewis Till We Have Faces

1 Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things to you is no trouble to me and is safe for you.
2 Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who mutilate the flesh. 3 For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh— 4 though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. 7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— 10 that I may know Him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

:: Philippians 3

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

-- William Cowper


"Jesus answered him, 'What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.'" -- John 13:7

I am soooooooooooooooooo excited!!!!

I made dinner for my family tonight, for the 3rd night in a row. Oh, praise God, I was so thrilled!!!!!! :-) And I am praising Him for the renewed perspective that this is His mercy to me, that I can give to others; even these small things.

His mercy allows my heart to keep beating...and His mercy fits my heart and hands to serve. Praise be to Him.

From Elisabeth Elliot's Gateway to Joy program archives:

I read to you yesterday a letter from a mother who was told when her baby was one day old that he had had a brain hemorrhage. And she had no idea whether he was going to be all right, but God gave her peace. She felt that she was just enfolded in those everlasting arms.

And that same lady went on to tell us about some far less daunting troubles. She said when she began to learn to accept and to thank the Lord for the things which cut across her natural desires, that God gave her peace even in the little things.

She said, "I even learned to apply this to getting up at night with my boys. Instead of stumbling grumpily out of bed, I could stop and say, 'Lord, Your will be done,' and take care of their needs in peace and calmness. And I want to share an episode with my mother-in-law," she says. "She has always been a very domineering, outspoken person--the kind of person I usually avoid, especially because I have always had a problem with self-esteem. We used to call it an inferiority complex. I always had fears of not measuring up, of failing, and I covered this up with a veneer of never admitting that I couldn't do something or didn't know how to do it.

Well, at one point I asked God to give me love for my mother-in-law. He responded by letting me spend a week with her while she was recovering from a fall. The first day she constantly told me everything to do and criticized everything I did. That night I went to bed churning inside and had a long argument with God. But finally I gave in and I said, 'All right. I will allow her to totally boss me around, to treat me as if I know nothing. I will ask her every little detail.' And then, guess what? I had peace."

You know, these principles that I'm trying to explain again and again on this program Gateway To Joy, they apply just as much to the tiny little things as they do to the big things. All of them are purposeful. The serious and painful events, the trivial disappointments, they are purposeful. They are God's purposeful arrangements for our fulfillment. They are, in fact, if we will accept them, our gateway to joy. That's right. These little things, these little troubles, can be our gateway to joy.

Blaise Pascal, author of THE PENSEES, was born in Clermont, France in 1623. His mother died when he was three years old. He was educated by his father, who was a government official. And he was exceedingly precocious, to the point of actually damaging his health by studying so hard. He became one of the greatest physicists and mathematicians of all time.

When he was 31 he had a mystical experience while reading the 17th chapter of John, feeling the emptiness of his life suddenly filled with the presence of God. He called this his second conversion--so crucial that he wrote notes about it which he sewed into the lining of his coat. It was found in the coat he was wearing when he died.

The notes in part were these: "The year of grace, 1654, Monday the 23rd of November, from about half past ten at night to about half an hour after midnight. Fire. God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob. Not of philosophers and scholars. Certitude. Heartfelt joy. Peace. God of Jesus Christ. God of Jesus Christ. My God and Your God. Your God shall be my God. The world forgotten, everything except God. Joy. Joy. Joy. Jesus Christ. I am separated from Him for, I have shunned Him, denied Him, crucified Him. May I never be separated from Him. He can only be kept by the ways taught in the Gospel. Complete and sweet renunciation. Total submission to Jesus Christ and to my Director. Everlasting joy in return for one day's striving upon earth. I will not neglect Your Word."

And that's the end of those notes that were found sewed into the lining of his coat. And this man Pascal endured many different kinds of suffering in his life. During the last six months, his physical suffering was really intense. But he prayed that he might endure it like a Christian. "Sick as I am," he prayed, "may I glorify You in my sufferings."

And one of the 15 prayers that he wrote asking God to use his sickness for His glory is this one: "Take from me, O Lord, that self-pity which love of myself so readily produces and from the frustration of not succeeding in the world as I would naturally desire. For these have no regard for Your glory.

Rather, create in me a sorrow that is conformable to Your own. Let my pains rather express the happy condition of my conversion and salvation. Let me no longer wish for health or life, but to spend it and end it for You, with You, in You. I pray neither for health nor for sickness, life or death; rather, I pray that You will dispose of my health, my sickness, my life, my death for Your glory, for my salvation, for the usefulness to Your church and Your saints, among whom I hope to be numbered. You alone know what is expedient for me. You are the sovereign Master. Do whatever pleases You. Give me or take away from me. Conform my will to Yours and grant that with humble and perfect submission, and in holy confidence, I may dispose myself utterly to You. May I receive the orders of Your everlasting provident care. May I equally adore anything that comes from You."

Just yesterday I heard two horrifying stories, one of a minister (who was also a missionary) guilty of blatant, deliberate, prolonged sexual sin. It was not with that man that I had to do. It was the suffering of his wife. The other was a story of another missionary. The wife had had to relinquish all hopes for a godly home, for secure children, and for strong, fatherly examples.

That's pain, isn't it? Those of you who have been there know that that is pain. What do I know of such pain? Nothing. I've never been abandoned by my husband. I've never had a husband who was guilty of blatant, deliberate, prolonged sexual sin. I've never been divorced. I don't know that kind of pain.

But I do learn from Hebrews 12 that each of us has a race to run. The writer says, "Surrounded as we are by these ranks of witnesses [and he's speaking of all the heroes of the faith listed in Hebrews 11], let us strip off everything that hinders us, as well as the sin which dogs our feet, and let us run the race that we have to run with patience, our eyes fixed on Jesus, the source and the goal of our faith. For He Himself endured a cross and thought nothing of its shame because of the joy He knew would follow His suffering."

You see, I always try to bring in, whenever we talk about these heavy things like suffering and death and pain and divorce and sin, that joy is promised when we endure the cross. Jesus endured the cross, thought nothing of its shame because of the joy He knew would follow His suffering. And He is now seated at the right hand of God's throne.

Think constantly of Him, enduring all that sinful men could say against Him, and you will not lose your purpose or your courage. Each of us has a race to run of some kind. You have one kind; I have another. But we all have the same Master, the source and the goal of our faith, the pioneer and the perfecter, Jesus Christ. We have to run that race with our eyes fixed on Him.

The runner back in those days was stripped, you know. People who ran relays and competed were actually naked. So he says, ''Let us strip off everything that hinders us." The runner has a clearly defined goal. He's given strength for his particular race, according to this passage. "And you will be given strength to let go of all that hinders you." All the weights.

And some of those weights, don't forget, are the good things that you'd like to take along. Things that there's nothing wrong in, and yet you can't run the race that Jesus has given you to run and lug along a lot of baggage. So you've got to let go and fix your eyes on the One who gave us everything.

The writer of the Hebrew goes on and says, ''After all, your fight against sin has not yet meant the shedding of blood, and you have perhaps lost sight of that piece of advice which reminds you of your sonship in God. My son, regard not lightly the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art reproved by Him. For whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth."

Remember that. There's one of the reasons why bad things happen to good people. The Lord loves you. He has to chasten you, to purify you, and "He scourgeth every son whom He receiveth."

Yesterday was amazing.

The day before was very difficult for me. On a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being an "I feel the worst" kind of day, this day was probably a 2. The last several days had been very hard, too. One night I remember praying with John before we went to bed, asking God for mercy: that He would look upon my humanness and my frailty, that He would consider my frame and the smallness of my faith, and that He would show me His goodness in some way. My faith and hope in God felt like a small thread, and I was crying out to Him to strengthen it with some reminder of His grace.

Over the last three months of my feeling unwell, I can remember days like this one where I had prayed a similar prayer. It has been incredible to me to see how God would answer these prayers -- truly, His mercies are new every morning. It was often something small, like a call from a friend, compassion or practical help from family or someone from our church. But sometimes it was even the interruption of a new trial. Fracturing my foot and spraining my ankle was one of the biggest hidden blessings that I feel God has sent me in answer to prayer. I am so thankful for the added helplessnes and the helpful distraction it has been, and how it has helped me grow at the same time. It has also been a visible sign of the time of trial God has me in right now (in His mercy), which has provided an opportunity for me to see the compassion of others because of something they could more easily understand and relate to. There have been many days and weeks where difficulties and disappointments piled so high that John and I could almost laugh (after we cried :-)). And in the midst of it all, I had to praise God for showing me that He had not just forgotten about us -- that it was very apparent that He was sending trial after trial very deliberately. And He disciplines those He loves.

"“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom He receives.” (Hebrews 12:5-6)

But back to yesterday. This time the answer to my prayer was a day that was more like a 7 (refering again to the sickness scale above) -- I hadn't felt that good in so many weeks. I was able to get groceries, make dinner (all with the help of my awesome sister-in-law Hannah, of course :-)), clean house and really take care of my family in practical and non-practical ways. I was definitely sending up praises to God...especially at the end of the day, when I even had the energy to chase Isaac around the basement and tickle him like I haven't in forever! (But don't tell my PT; Running is still prohibited. ;-)) And instead of feeling like I had to do all those things to be a good mom, I realized like never before that being able to minister to my family like this is a privelege; not a burden. A gift from God to me that I can give to my family. I pray that God will continue to shape me through the difficulties He is sending.

"THAT I MAY KNOW HIM and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death." -- Phil. 3:10

"Our culture is terrified of facing death. It is obsessed with medicine. It idolizes youth, health and energy. It tries to hide any signs of weakness or imperfection. You will bring huge blessing to others by living openly, believingly and lovingly within your weaknesses. Paradoxically, moving out into relationships when you are hurting and weak will actually strengthen others. ‘One anothering’ is a two-way street of generous giving and grateful receiving. Your need gives others an opportunity to love. And since love is always God’s highest purpose in you, too, you will learn his finest and most joyous lessons as you find small ways to express concern for others even when you are most weak. A great, life-threatening weakness can prove amazingly freeing. Nothing is left for you to do except to be loved by God and others, and to love God and others. "

* * * * * *

"Show the world this different way of grieving. Paul said that he would have had “grief upon grief” if his friend Epaphroditus had died. He had been grieving, feeling the painful weight of his friend’s illness. He would have doubly grieved if his friend had died. But this loving, honest, God-oriented grief coexisted with “rejoice always” and “the peace of God that passes understanding” and “showing a genuine concern for your welfare.” How on earth can heartache coexist with love, joy, peace, and an indestructible sense of life purpose? In the inner logic of faith, this makes perfect sense. In fact, because you have hope, you may feel the sufferings of this life more keenly: grief upon grief. In contrast, the grieving that has no hope often chooses denial or escape or busyness because it can’t face reality without becoming distraught. In Christ, you know what’s at stake, and so you keenly feel the wrong of this fallen world. You don’t take pain and death for granted. You love what is good, and hate what is evil. After all, you follow in the image of “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” But this Jesus chose his cross willingly “for the joy set before him.” He lived and died in hopes that all come true. His pain was not muted by denial or medication, nor was it tainted with despair, fear, or thrashing about for any straw of hope that might change his circumstances. Jesus’ final promises overflow with the gladness of solid hope amid sorrows: “My joy will be in you, and your joy will be made full. Your grief will be turned to joy. No one will take your joy away from you. Ask, and you will receive, so that your joy will be made full. These things I speak in the world, so that they may have my joy made full in themselves” (selection from John 15-17). "

* * * * * *

"Suffering really is meant to wean you from sin and strengthen your faith. If you are God-less, then suffering magnifies sin. Will you become more bitter, despairing, addictive, fearful, frenzied, avoidant, sentimental, godless in how you go about life? Will you pretend it’s business as usual? Will you come to terms with death, on your terms? But if you are God’s, then suffering in Christ’s hands will change you, always slowly, sometimes quickly. You come to terms with life and death on his terms. He will gentle you, purify you, cleanse you of vanities. He will make you need him and love him. He rearranges your priorities, so first things come first more often. He will walk with you. Of course you’ll fail at times, perhaps seized by irritability or brooding, escapism or fears. But he will always pick you up when you stumble. Your inner enemy – a moral cancer 10,000 times more deadly than your physical cancer – will be dying as you continue seeking and finding your Savior: “For your name’s sake, O Lord, pardon my iniquity, for it is very great. Who is the man who fears the Lord? He will instruct him in the way he should choose” (Psalm 25)."

-- David Powlison

"Christians are never anywhere by divine accident. There are reasons for why we wind up where we do. Consider what Jesus said about painful, unplanned circumstances: “They will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake. This will be your opportunity to bear witness” (Luke 21:12 -13). So it is with cancer. This will be an opportunity to bear witness. Christ is infinitely worthy. Here is a golden opportunity to show that he is worth more than life. Don’t waste it. "

-- John Piper

"Recognizing his designing hand does not make you stoic or dishonest or artificially buoyant. Instead, the reality of God’s design elicits and channels your honest outcry to your one true Savior. God’s design invites honest speech, rather than silencing us into resignation. Consider the honesty of the Psalms, of King Hezekiah (Isaiah 38), of Habakkuk 3. These people are bluntly, believingly honest because they know that God is God and set their hopes in him. Psalm 28 teaches you passionate, direct prayer to God. He must hear you. He will hear you. He will continue to work in you and your situation. This outcry comes from your sense of need for help (28:1-2). Then name your particular troubles to God (28:3-5). You are free to personalize with your own particulars. Often in life’s ‘various trials’ (James 1:2), what you face does not exactly map on to the particulars that David or Jesus faced – but the dynamic of faith is the same. Having cast your cares on him who cares for you, then voice your joy (28:6-7): the God-given peace that is beyond understanding. Finally, because faith always works out into love, your personal need and joy will branch out into loving concern for others (28:8-9). Illness can sharpen your awareness of how thoroughly God has already and always been at work in every detail of your life. "

-- David Powlison

(http://www.desiringgod.org/resource-library/taste-see-articles/dont-waste-your-cancer)

Each morning I wake up and immediately wish I could go back to sleep. Better yet, that I had never woken up. A feeling that I had just slept a couple hours haunts my body, accompanied but such extreme weakness that I wonder how the miracle will come about that I get through another day.
As the day wears on, a host of symptoms come and go -- headaches accompanied by sensitivity and pain in my ears, a great weakness/numbness/tension all throughout my body, a fast heart rate, and at times such acute weakness in my chest and head that I feel like my heart will stop. My head feels full of pressure and concentrating is a huge hurdle for me. Sometimes the littlest bit of exertion feels like a marathon, sending my heart rate up and challenging my ability to breathe; I experience a dizziness and feelings of imbalance, even while sitting and sometimes lying down. My appetite is gone. I battle feelings of extreme anxiety -- a tension in my chest, even during peaceful moments of prayer and hope in God. Often despair and hopelessness seizes me.

I am aware that I can tend to be a dramatic person. In writing about my current physical struggle, I am not trying to say that I am not convinced that hundreds of millions of Christians have already gone before me in dealing with very similar chronic physical trials. How do we rate pain and suffering? How can we measure it? And perhaps one trial to me may seem easy to you, or a deathblow to someone else. Some may think I am a saint by the way I am bearing up under this, and someone else might want to yell "you wimp!". I've seen both reactions. The only real way to measure the depth of someones suffering is what they say it is to them; not what we think it would be to us, or what it has been to others.

I am also aware that countless people have dealt with very long-term, undiagnosed illnesses. But that doesn't make the struggle easier. (Sidenote: talking to people who have faced similar struggles is HUGELY encouraging! I am only stating that just knowing that they exist isn't particularly helpful...) Inside, I am crying "it doesn't matter what they could do!! I can't do that!!" Their strength doesn't convince me of mine, or make the trial more bearable.

Writing honestly about how difficult this is for me is to show the depth of my weakness...my greatest moments of helplessness. My biggest fears. But I know what the Word of God says -- that our weakness is our strength:

2 Corinthians 12: 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 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.

I love this quote by Tim Keller:

"Look at the story of David and Goliath. What is the meaning of that narrative for us? Without reference to Christ, the story may be (usually is!) preached as: "The bigger they come, the harder they'll fall, if you just go into your battles with faith in the Lord. You may not be real big and powerful in yourself, but with God on your side, you can overcome giants." But as soon as we ask: "how is David foreshadowing the work of his greater Son"? We begin to see the same features of the story in a different light. The story is telling us that the Israelites can not go up against Goliath. They can't do it. They need a substitute. When David goes in on their behalf, he is not a full-grown man, but a vulnerable and weak figure, a mere boy. He goes virtually as a sacrificial lamb. But God uses his apparent weakness as the means to destroy the giant, and David becomes Israel's champion-redeemer, so that his victory will be imputed to them. They get all the fruit of having fought the battle themselves. "

This giant of my current illness seems like too much for me. So many times I have told God that I just can't do it. As though this is news to Him! He knew that Israel was incapable of defeating Goliath; they were the ones that needed to realize that. And then once they did, He used something they would consider too small and too weak to overcome the giant that they felt they themselves couldn't defeat, to show that HE was able to conquer on their behalf.

Don't tell me to be strong. Don't tell me that I can do it. Don't tell me about how so many others have done it, so I can.

Tell me that He is strong.

Tell me that He has done it.

Tell me that He has done it, so I can.


Every day, my prayer is for faith to see: that yet again, God is working in my life another expression of my great humanness and His great salvation.

Recieve, then, what are trials

"Whatever thy grief or trouble be, take every drop in thy cup from the hand of God. He with whom, 'the hairs of thy head are all numbered,' knows every throb of your brow, each hardly drawn breath, each shoot of pain... each sinking of the aching heart.

Receive, then, what are trials to you, not in the main only, but one by one, from His all-loving hands, thank His love for each; unite each with the sufferings of the Redeemer; pray that He will hallow them to you. You will not know now what He will work in you; yet, day by day, you will receive the impress of the likeness of the ever-blessed Son, and in you too, while you don't even know, God shall be glorified..."

E. B. Pusey