An Overdue Update

I'm stunned and a bit embarrassed by the fact it's been THREE MONTHS since my last post. I have nothing to say for myself.

It isn't that I don't have things to write about. Life is busy, rich, and full. I could post every day. I just haven't figured out how to manage everything. Exercise and blogging are particularly difficult to fit into my daily schedule. But that has to change. Soon. The blogging part, anyway.

It's platform building time.

But first, let's catch you up.

THE PHANTOM NOVEL

Back in December, my daughter came down with mono. Poor girl had a go of it, and I clocked lots of hours in the recliner holding her. Needing an occupation, I pulled out the manuscript of my novel, which I hadn't touched since September 2015.

The novel you either forgot about or gave up on because I haven't mentioned it in forever.

As with this blog, I hadn't meant for so much time to pass before picking it up again. But between an attempt to make the one novel into two (per the recommendation of three readers) and the inherent life changes which come with being miraculously healed of an incurable disease, it slept sad and alone in the files of my laptop for over a year.

I fiddled with a revised plot outline for the "first" novel two or three days before I realized I had no heart for that story. None. I couldn't make myself care.

I remember God saying, "Well if you don't care about it, no one else will."

Touche.

So I abandoned the 80k word NaNoWriMo draft I crafted a year prior and began the task of making my original novel work as one cohesive story. On January 6th of this year, I submitted my manuscript to an editor. She returned it last weekend. I'm now ready to make one last round of revisions before I'm done. And that, my friends, will be the easiest part of what's left of the process before my book is in your hands.

AAAAALL THE DECISIONS

Like most authors, I prefer to write my stories and leave the business side of self-publishing to someone else. Unfortunately, that isn't the way it works. When you self-publish, you ARE the business. For better or for worse, you make all the decisions.

Book title. Artwork. Blurbs. Biographies. Dedications. Cover design. Internal formatting. ISBNs. Publishing company title. Logo design. Budgeting. Marketing. Platform. Web site design. Core value statement. Wordpress themes. Photography.

Oh, and apparently I have expensive taste. Yikes.

Once upon a time, I needed to breathe into a paper bag when contemplating these things. Now I remind myself God's got this and it will all fall into place in due time.

HOW YOU CAN HELP

The next step is clear. I need my own online domain.

Very soon, my blog will undergo a change of address. I would LOVE for you guys to make the move with me. I need to build a following on the new website so I will have an audience waiting when I release my novel this spring. Everyone who signs up for my newsletter will receive a FREE unpublished short story. So that's fun.

MISCELLANY

Book stuff doesn't monopolize all of my mental real estate, believe it or not.

Superman and I are looking into starting another business this year. In addition to our day jobs. Don't worry, I fully realize the insanity of starting two businesses the same year, but we aren't getting any younger. If not us, who? If not now, when?

God has laid out a fresh vision for local ministry over the past few weeks. I'm stepping into more of a leadership role in our Personal Prayer Ministry in Ruston. There's also a new sister ministry in the inception stage. My future role in the new ministry is hard to guess at this time, but I suspect it will eventually be a significant part of my life.

I continue to enjoy my work at Geneva Academy, where my children attend school. The longer I'm there, the more I love the heart, the vision, and the people. My friend Jarrod Richey would like me to return next year as a part-time music teacher, particularly if I'm able to attend a Kodály methodology training this summer in Moscow, Idaho. I haven't yet decided what I'll do.

After I release my novel, I will write my autobiography, which will focus on my illness and healing. God says it's time to tell the whole story--a story most people haven't heard. I plan to finish the book this summer and release it in the fall. There's a possible children's book in the works as well.

Next month, my family and I will travel to Austin, Texas to spend some extended time with my best friend and her family and to share my story with their church community group. I look forward to our time there.

IN CLOSING

Feel caught up now? You're not. Not even a little bit.

I could tell you story after story about how God is working in my life, the lives of family members, the lives of friends and the various communities I'm a part of. The first church experience is my new normal. I see people healed, delivered, saved, and encouraged on a regular basis.

Over the past 14 months, it has been my delight to discover that God still works today as He did in the book of Acts. The very same way. I'm not a special case. God is actually as generous with healing now as He was in Jesus' day, if not more so. Nothing has changed except our expectations.

But even sweeter than the miracles I've seen is God's abiding presence in my life. He is everything, and without Him, miracles would be meaningless.

Today, I enjoy the intimacy with God I dreamed about as a young teen. On one hand, I'm satisfied. I don't need a thing this world offers. If on the off-chance I become rich and famous, okay. Great. If I don't, who cares? On the other hand, I know there's more of God to be had so I have to have more. And more and more and more and more. Like any good addict. I love that I serve an infinite God. Anything less would fail to satisfy.

Whatever happens over the next few months, sink or swim, He is all I need. It was true when I was sick. It's true now that I'm healed. That's the joy of serving a God who doesn't change in a world that never stays the same.

The Best Night of My Life

Life holds several great moments. Memorable vacations, holidays and birthdays. Graduations. Engagement. Your wedding day. The births of your children. My personal highlight reel is pretty spectacular, despite my desert years. So maybe the other night wasn't really the best night of my life, but it was pretty darn close.

Jesus had me like...

I don't remember how many people I've led to the Lord. Not that many, but enough to lose count and no one recently. On Monday, August 1, 2016, I had the indescribable privilege of leading both of my children to the Lord.

Bet I don't forget that.

The moment took me by surprise. For several reasons. First, I was tired and kind of grumpy. Ten minutes prior, Micah had thrown a fit because I let Sara lick a drop of honey off my finger and not him. So like any good descendant of Juanita Chapman, I lectured him on the general unfairness of life--I may or may not be guilty of having mentioned starving kids in Africa--and reinforced my refusal to be held hostage by a standard of equality.

Ain't. happenin'.

So Micah didn't even like me when we sat down for our bedtime reading and devotional. Fortunately, Shel Silverstein loosened things up a bit before we got into real things.

But there's also my whole deal with the famous "sinner's prayer." Before my Baptist friends cry heresy, let me explain. 

I've seen way too many people pray a magic "save me from hell" prayer, go on like nothing happened and convince themselves they're Christians. The ABCs saved them. Once saved, always saved. Nothing to worry about.

While there's nothing inherently wrong with the ABCs or the sinner's prayer, unless there's friendship with God which leads to genuine transformation from the inside out, there's a decent possibility that nothing happened. At least, nothing that lasted. 

For myself, I don't believe I had a moment of salvation. Rather, it happened in stages and is--arguably--still happening. 

"But he who endures to the end shall be saved." ~Matthew 24:13

Thus, I've always encouraged my kids toward relationship with Jesus and operated under the assumption they belong to Him unless proven otherwise as they exercise their free will over time. While I encourage prayer, I've never encouraged "asking Jesus into your heart." But what do you do when your kids realize they're sinners and want to be rescued?

Apparently, you revisit your roots. But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

God's gonna do what God's gonna do. 

 

God loves to prove me wrong. He loves to surprise me, and he loves to give me good things in spite of myself. (Not too different from that husband of mine.) So despite the fact I was far from a suitable frame of mind, the Holy Spirit dropped in my living room Monday night. 

We opened our copy of Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing* to the entry entitled "Friend of Sinners."

 *Seriously, if you have littles, get this book.

The following conversation went something like this--

Sara's brow furrowed. "Why does Jesus love sinners, Mama?"

I straightened. They don't usually ask questions about the Bible story. I love questions. "Well, he loves people and all people are sinners. God made us all to be like Him. To be His friends. But we disobeyed Him and ruined everything. Thankfully, God sent Jesus to live with us and to die to pay for our sin so we don't have to. When we believe in Him, we aren't sinners anymore. We're the righteousness of God. Because I count on Jesus for salvation, I'm the righteousness of God."

Micah stretched his body forward and looked at me intently. "Are we sinners?" He pointed to himself and Sara.

I smiled. My son was having a light bulb moment and there was a holy weight in the air. "Yes. Until Jesus lives inside of you."

Micah blinked tears from his big brown eyes. "I want Jesus to live inside of me. I don't want to be a sinner anymore."

Sara's eyes grew bright and she bounced in her seat. "Me too! Me too!"

So I led them in a carefully worded prayer. Never mind that I almost broke a sweat trying to accommodate my personal biases. (Feel free to laugh. I'm ridiculous.)

When it was over, I sang hymns which celebrate salvation. The kids leaped from the couch and danced joyfully to the thin melody sounding from my hot and swollen throat.

Immediately after, Micah wanted to tell his favorite person in the world--his Nona.

This, my friends, is the Gospel. 

 

The Gospel tells the truth about our sad state, but with hope. It convicts, but doesn't scold. It doesn't condemn, but woos. It's about love, not fear. The motivation is less about avoiding hell and more about enjoying heaven on earth through right relationship with our Creator and Savior. It's about discovering the greatest Beauty of the universe and telling everyone so they can appreciate Him, too. It makes us dance for joy because we were once lost and are now found.

Micah and Sara invited Jesus into their lives because they want to be His friends. They want to know Him.

Before heading to bed, Micah asked me, "Mama, will I be able to hear God now?"

"Yes, Baby. When you read the Bible, when you pray, when you listen for Him, He'll speak and you'll hear."

Again, tears filled his eyes. (I love that boy's tender heart.) "Do you hear from God?" he asked me.

"Yes, Love. All the time. And you will, too." Then I laid hands on him, asked God to fill Micah with his Spirit and to give him all the gifts He gave to me.

Seeds Sown

 

For years, I've sat with Micah and Sara day after day, night after night telling them of my Jesus. I've read the stories, sung the songs, praying all the while that it would matter. I've asked God time and again to help me live in such a way that they would want a life with Jesus for themselves. What an honor to lead these precious ones to Him.

I now can see the first hint of green peeking above the soil. And I know--my real work has just begun.

A Call to Arms, A Call to Peace: Thoughts on the Syrian Refugee Crisis

 

When I first read about the Syrian refugee crisis on Ann Voskamp's blog back in early September, I prayed, "Oh, God. Send them here. Let us take care of them."

Now He has. Praise the Lord!

But His timing tests us. 

His timing tests us because the refugees chase the heels of state elections and a terrorist attack. We are reminded--it can happen to us. We are vulnerable.

And now our officials use the tragedy to promote or to attack the 2nd Amendment. In Louisiana, it divides voters and may change the outcome of the runoffs.

I want to live in a world in which a tragedy can be tragedy and not a platform for political agendas. In which the media takes a quiet breath to mourn bloodshed before they try to fix things only God can fix.

We can't heal horror with legislation. Nor can we prevent it.

But we can feed the hungry.
We can clothe the naked.
We can take in the stranger on our doorsteps.

But we don't want to. Because we're afraid. 

Sisters and brothers, may I humbly suggest that if we're too afraid to love, then Satan has rendered the American church useless? Faith without works is dead, Beloved.

This morning I read the words of Jesus in Luke 12:4--"My friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do."

The Holy Spirit takes me to Matthew 25:34-40--"Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a sojourner and you took me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.

"Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You? And the King will answer and say to them, 'Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.'"

And Deuteronomy 10:18-19--"For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality...He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the stranger, giving him food and clothing. Therefore love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt."

Yes, it is true that ISIS sleepers may be among the refugees.

What of it?

At the heart of the gospel is the willingness to get hurt for humankind. Jesus was willing to get hurt for you, Beloved. He told us long ago we would be hurt for him.

"Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who persecute you." (Luke 6:27-28)

"But God demonstrates His own love toward us in that while were still [enemies], Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)

"A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for a disciple that he be like his teacher, and a servant like his master." (Matthew 10:24-25)

"For to [suffering] you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps..." (1 Peter 2:21)

This is a fearful thing, yes. But it isn't new. And being American doesn't exempt us. Furthermore, we pledge allegiance to God and the gospel before the flag or our personal comfort.

"Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy." (1 Peter 4:13)

Suffering for the sake of Christ is also the utmost honor. 

"Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven..." (Matthew 5:11-12)

"Do not fear any of those things which you are about to suffer. Indeed, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and you will have tribulation ten days. Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life." (Revelation 2:10)

Remember, it is to death we are called. 

"Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel's will save it." (Mark 8:34-35)

Welcoming refugees is risky. And the government has a responsibility to protect its people. I neither possess the wisdom nor the desire to make the decisions they must make. So I pray for them that they will listen to the voice of God and obey.

BUT we are not to trust in the government for protection. Nor our flag, nor our guns, nor our economy.

"No king is saved by the multitude of an army;
a mighty man is not delivered by great strength.
A horse is a vain hope for safety;
neither shall it deliver any by its great strength."
(Psalm 33:16-17)

"Some trust in chariots, and some in horses; but we will remember the name of the Lord our God" (Psalm 20:7). Who numbers the very hairs on our heads "and not one of them falls to the ground apart from [His] will" (Matthew 10:29-30). 

I urge you, Beloved--don't give in to blind fear...

See the opportunity.

Many believers lament they cannot GO to the mission field. Rejoice, Christian! The mission field has come to us!

Let us not assume these people are our enemies. The Muslims I met in 2000 grieved with me in September 2001. Most of them are peaceful people who, just like us, are trying to save themselves and just...can't.

Let us look into their eyes and see ourselves.
Let us arise and be the Church!

Loose the bonds of wickedness.
Undo the heavy burdens.
Let the oppressed go free.
Break every yoke.
Share your bread with the hungry.
Bring into your house the poor who are cast out.
Clothe the naked.
Do not hide from your fellow human beings.
THEN
 your light shall break forth like the morning,
your healing shall spring forth speedily,
and your righteousness shall go before you;
The glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
You shall cry, and He will say, "Here I AM!"
(Isaiah 58:6-9)

Brother, if you are afraid, I do not condemn you.
Sister, I do not shame you for your fear.
I only implore you to confess it to our great God as sin and to remember He is with you. He loves you. He is faithful and just to forgive and restore you.

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit" (Romans 8:1).

I encourage you to ask to be baptized with the Holy Spirit, who brings the gift of boldness. And honey, you can BANK on God answering that prayer (Luke 11:13).

For those who welcome the refugees with open arms, you do well. But do not condemn our brothers and sisters who have fallen prey to the devil's schemes. Do not imagine yourself holier than they. Repent of your pride and vitriol of which you so vehemently accuse them.

If you cannot love your brothers and sisters in Christ, what hope have you of loving anyone else?

This is not the time for division.
This is the time for unity.
This is not the day of judgment.
This is the day of salvation!

Do not lose heart. 

The Holy Spirit is even now changing minds and convicting hearts of fear and pride and turning them toward our fellow men and women who need God and all He is every bit as much as we do.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon us. He has anointed us to preach good tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, to offer sight to the blind, to liberate the oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord! (Luke 4:18-19)

Let's get hurt for the gospel, Church.
Let's make peace and arm ourselves with the love of God.
Let's join ranks with those of whom the world was not worthy.

Jesus screams it loud and clear on the cross--
People are worth it.

A Portrait of the Gospel

My spirits tend to sink when weighted by a chain of hard days. I wish I was past this weakling business. I'm not. Here's the lovely thing--the bad days were proceeded by several good ones.

Brandon and I attended Brian and Jenny's wedding in Houston. I will try to give an adequate description of the day, but I am afraid words will fail. The highlights are as follows:

The way was prepared for me. I had prayed long and hard concerning the event. I held it loosely so the sting wouldn't be too great if plans fell through. A thousand things could have gone badly, any of which would have prevented me from attending. Not one came to pass. We were nervous. We remembered too well our last trip to Houston, specifically the drive back home through the rain as I struggled for breath and clung to my Epi pen. We were driving west and almost at the Texas state line when the Lord gave me a word--"redemption." I spoke it aloud. I told Brandon that this trip would be the opposite of our last. God was going to redeem the trauma of the year before.

 The hotel room made me sick, but my reactions were controlled with TBM and BioSet (energy/acupressure work). Jenny had asked my groomsman escort not to wear cologne. The bridesmaids--strangers almost--elected not to wear any fragrance on my behalf without being asked by anyone. There are only a handful of people in my life who make this kind of accommodation for me. I was stunned by their thoughtfulness. My mask was still needed, and it provided sufficient protection until I passed a particularly fragrant wedding guest in the reception area. My reaction was not life threatening, but I was made unwell enough to require treatment.

God smiled on the day. The air was cool and crisp. Sun rays glowed golden, slipping through morning shadows to dry the dew and warm our shoulders. God's seal of approval was apparent in every detail. His Spirit hung quietly about us all, manifesting in joy, calm, intentional moments and physical strength for Jenny. And she looked absolutely beautiful.

I generally don't cry at weddings, but I cried at this one. It was simple and impossibly sweet. Every expression, word, musical choice and ceremonial symbol bore significance. The congregation was called to sing, "Ode to Joy"--a fitting song for the event. When the chorus began, voices like angels rang from the loft above. The church had granted Brian and Jenny an unexpected gift of a women's choir to bless them. They blessed us all.

Unfortunately, I kind of derailed after the trip. Now ask me if I regret going. (Hint: See facial expressions in photos above.)

Pain, brain fog and heightened sensitivity set in the evening we returned home, growing worse each day. These symptoms are often accompanied by depression. Depression is a nasty foe, particularly so because it consumes a person with self. Self is never a good focus. Self fails in every way. It blinds you to what is real and vital. It takes from you without ever giving anything back.

It is a shame that after freshly experiencing something so beautiful and divine, I returned home to wallow. Like a pig in filth.

I allowed unholy thoughts to pour in and puddle--This is too hard. I've been sick so long. I may never be well. I am forgotten. No one understands what my life is like.

At Jenny's wedding, I was asked, "What is your illness?" This question is always hard for me. It reminds me there is no name for what I have. People understand names like "cancer" and "diabetes," but they cannot understand the craziness I've got going on. If I say I have allergies, people think I'm being extremely dramatic about a runny nose. If I talk about immunity or methylation, their eyes glaze over with information overload. My disease is a mystery to me. How do I answer the question? I try. It always comes out in too many confused words.

When there is no name for the disease, there is no established protocol. My doctor and I really have no idea what we are doing. Muscle testing keeps us from making major, life-threatening mistakes, but really all we have to go on is trial and error. Two prospective treatments have recently come to my attention. I did not realize how desperately I was hoping to be a candidate for either or both until Dr. Yakaboski tested that I was a candidate for neither. I wasn't prepared for the disappointment.

More unholy thoughts--You are a freak. No one knows what is wrong with you. You are too sick to tolerate the treatments that can make you better.

There are people who need me--my time, my "spoons," my prayers, and all I have been thinking about is myself. Last night, I had enough. I'm sure God had enough before it began. I wielded my secret weapon--the self sermon.

I preach a mini sermon almost every day either for me or the kids. I have gotten pretty good at it. I began preaching to myself out loud over my stove as I cooked. Micah and Sara were unphased. Eight kinds of crazy are accepted here. I began by quoting scripture to myself:

"Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance." --Psalm 42:5

"If I say, 'My foot slips,' Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up. In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul."--Psalm 94:18-19

"'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.'"--2 Corinthians 12:9

"Let us run with endurance the race that is set before, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him [US] endured the cross...." Hebrews 12:1-2

"When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I."--Psalm 61:2

I did not realize how bad I was feeling physically until this inexplicable weight on my body and haze in my brain lifted. Last night Scripture literally brought a manner of healing to my body. Not just to my soul. To my body.

Enjoying the new clarity, I began pouring my heart out to Jesus. My feelings were utterly selfish, but He listened. And He not only listened--He responded.

Me: I feel so misunderstood.

GOD: Is not my understanding enough for you?

Me: Ouch. Yes, it is. I feel forgotten.

GOD: The eyes of God of the Universe are upon you. You cannot comprehend what this means.

Me: Wow. Yeah, I guess I don't. Well, how am I going to get better if I cannot tolerate treatment?

GOD: You will continue to patiently walk in my wisdom until my purposes are accomplished and you are healed. The treatments of man are irrelevant to you.

Me: And there ya go. I feel unimportant.

GOD: When Jesus was born into the world, He was God made into flesh yet only his parents and a few animals were present. During His world changing ministry, He only had a handful of friends. Jesus made Himself unimportant. This is your model. Do not forget the cross. Your importance to Me was made clear there.

Me: I am ridiculous.

Later, Brandon ministered to me as well. He listened. He validated my feelings. And he preached to me from Scripture, the gist of which was Paul had it way worse than you and was joyful in all things so suck it up! Perfect! I was taken aback by this sweet manifestation of the Spirit in my husband. Generally, men like to play Mr. Fix It. You offer a problem; they offer a solution. Brandon knew he couldn't offer me a real solution, so he offered me something better. He gave me an ear and a godly kick in the pants.

Even the sum of these things fell a mite short of what I really needed. I needed a flag to follow--something greater than myself as a rally point. The Billy Graham special reminded me of what that is tonight.

Billy Graham is gifted. He preaches a simple message simply. The gospel of Christ is incredibly elementary. A preschooler can grasp it. It is also devastating, earth rending, life changing. Tonight I recalled my purpose. I have been bought with a price. I am owned. My purpose is to enjoy Jesus regardless of my circumstances, to make Him look beautiful to the world, and to spread His fame. I cannot do this if I am looking at myself. I am entitled to my feelings. God gave us the capacity to feel. But I must not allow my feelings to consume me. I must be consumed by the truth and permanence of the cross.

Looking at the cross requires looking away from ourselves to gaze at something glorious--something worth living, worth suffering and worth dying for. The cross demands everything we are; the resurrection supplies the power to give what is demanded. We are not victims, brothers and sisters. We are warriors, overcomers, victors!

I thought about Jenny's wedding again after the special. It was a true to life portrait of the gospel. We are a broken bride. We are sick with physical, spiritual and emotional maladies of all kinds, the names of which do not matter, for it is all disease in need of healing. We are frail and imperfect. We need to be saved, restored and healed. Though we have done nothing to deserve it, God has clothed us in a lovely, white gown. He has made us radiant with His love. This is our reality right now, and we are still only our shadow selves. We are not yet who we really are. We still carry our brokenness with us. But if we will just keep looking to the Groom and bask in the love shining from His eyes, we will make it down the aisle just fine.

 "God has been too good to me to play the victim anymore."--Jenny

Hope in the Midst of Suffering

Awhile back, a dear friend asked me why I would choose to faithfully serve a God who has allowed bad things to happen to me. One could rephrase the question this way--"Why do you choose to serve a God who claims to be all-powerful, loving and good when He has allowed you to suffer so much?" My friend is an atheist. She is intelligent and kind, and she would not have asked this question flippantly or with ill intent. She truly wanted to know. Instinctively, she knew that I had wrestled with the hard questions which suffering brings into the life of a person of faith, and she wanted to know what I had discovered. I felt she deserved a thorough and heartfelt response, a response I would give to anyone whom I love and respect. I doubt very much that my answer satisfied her because the answers we are given to these questions are never satisfying.

Recent events have me revisiting these questions. Why must Jenny suffer the horrors of Stage 4 cancer in the prime of her life, just as she was given everything she had dreamed of and hoped for? Why have things been so hard for my immediate and extended family lately? Why can't a single compartment of my life or the life of my husband go untouched by hardship? Why were 20 children and 6 adults mercilessly slaughtered right before Christmas? It all seems so preventable, so unnecessary.....

Timothy Keller places these questions and those like them under the umbrella of the "Questions of Suffering." I have extensively read and listened to his thoughts concerning these difficult questions. His insight has profoundly shaped my own, which will be obvious if you are familiar with his teaching. I am going to share with you what I wrote in response to my friend's question. I'm going to share this with you now because if you are like me, grieving and suffering in a myriad of different ways this holiday season, you need to be reminded that our existence yet contains the hope of joy because of Christmas and that the birth of Christ is something worth celebrating even if our hearts are not merry.

I wrote most of the following on August 15, 2012. I have edited a bit in order to clarify my thoughts and speak to recent events:

"[Friend], your question is not unique. I recently read somewhere that according to a nationwide survey, the issue of suffering is the number ONE reason many people reject Christianity. I am going to be very honest with you—you won’t be completely satisfied with my answer because I have not found the answer to why there is suffering ANYWHERE in the Bible. And I’ve looked! All we know is that the Bible tells us that once the world was perfect, but man chose to disobey God. Since that choice, evil, sin and suffering has been a part of the world in which we live, and these things are the result of our brokenness, sinful natures and the destructive schemes of Satan, the anti-God.

The best answer I have found to the “why” of suffering is located in Isaiah 55—“’For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,’ says the Lord. ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.’” That’s not very satisfying, is it? 

For a moment, let’s pretend that the issue is a philosophical one. The problem so many people have generally boils down to this—“The presence of evil and suffering in the world must mean that God cannot be simultaneously all powerful and all good because if He can’t stop the evil, He isn’t all powerful, and if He can stop the evil and doesn’t, He can’t be all good.” This problem turns countless people away, people who have never believed and people who at one time said they did. But turning away from God doesn’t help anyone with the issue of evil and suffering because if one turns away from God how does one define suffering?

 Evil and suffering must be defined by some absolute moral code or who is to say "_____ is evil" or "____ is suffering"? If there is no God, there is no divine law. Nature rules, and we all know that nature rules by violence. So if there is no God, who is to say that violence is wrong? And if there is no God, who is to say that suffering is not natural? If there is no God, we are slaves to evolution, which means that the weak have to die so the strong can live and carry on. Suffering should and would still happen if there was no God. If there is no God, there are no moral absolutes, so “right” and “wrong” are just feelings, and who is to say that one person’s feelings about morality are more valid than those of another? So, while I have no real answer for why I am suffering, I realize that disbelief and anger get me nowhere.

I know you didn’t ask, but I want you to know how I get through my suffering with happiness and hope. We are friends, and I love you. It would be wrong to cut short my response at a philosophical level because the real issue you have isn’t one of philosophy, but one of faith. I don’t mean that in a condemning or condescending way at all. I hope you read this feeling the compassion and empathy I’m trying to communicate. 

I’ve been studying 1 Peter in the Bible, which could be otherwise titled, “Suffering for Dummies.” This dummy (me) has learned a lot from this letter to the suffering, Roman church. I’m going to quote a passage from Chapter 1 not because I’m trying to preach or whop you over the head with a Bible, but because God’s words have power that mine do not. Also, they have been my lifeline, so you can’t understand my attitude about my illness unless you know the source of my hope--

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a LIVING HOPE through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you who are kept by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen, you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the goal of your faith—the salvation of your souls.”--1 Peter 1:3-9

In this passage, Peter likens suffering (trials) to a fire. I will give evidence of God’s goodness in a moment, but for now, I will tell you that God’s wrath (God is wrathful because He is just and righteous, and justice and righteousness can’t allow evil and suffering to go unpunished) is also likened to a fire, and it is the ultimate fire. No fire I will ever face [even the soul-burning fire of losing a child to a mass murderer] will be as great as the fire of God’s wrath. I include that tidbit because there is One who faced that fire. Christianity is the only religion in the world that boasts of a deity becoming a man in order to die for His subjects. Jesus willingly left Heaven, giving up His God-ness and all of the privileges thereof, knowing better than any human that ever lived what the fire of God’s wrath is like, and He PLUNGED Himself into that fire so that He could end evil and salvage us. The fact that He did that does not give me the answer to why there is suffering in the world, but it DOES tell me what the answer ISN’T. It isn’t that He does not care! 

 I firmly believe that my suffering is personal to Jesus because He felt everything on the cross that I am feeling now . . . . only much more profoundly. He was cast into utter darkness so that I could live in light. My mind is so blown by that! Though it is old knowledge, it rips my heart to shreds every time I think of it. I cannot think about the cross without tears. Jesus went to the greatest lengths imaginable to keep His promise He made in Isaiah 43—“Fear not for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name, You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you . . . . . Fear not, for I am with you.”

In addition to the blazing emblem of God's love--the cross--1 Peter 1 tells me that I have this “living hope” thing to which I can look when all seems lost. I believe that because the living hope is “through the resurrection” of Jesus that I can bank on that hope being more than just some spiritual, ethereal Band-aid that will somehow make me feel better about my suffering. No. I believe it is going to be a restoration of everything I’ve lost—my health, my dreams, my happiness, and every cent I’ve given away believing that I am indeed laying up my treasure in Heaven. It’s going to be this life, this world made right! 1 Peter 5:10 says, “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will Himself RESTORE, confirm, strengthen and establish you.” (If everybody in the house wasn’t asleep right now, I would shout!)

I believe that everyone has to have a “living hope” to get through suffering without being ruined. So, I wonder, what was Jesus’ living hope? What did He NOT have in Heaven?  What could possibly make the ultimate suffering worth it for Him?

 It’s us. WE are His living hope. And knowing that I am His living hope, makes Him mine!

But none of that is philosophical. That’s faith. It boils down to Jesus, “whom having not seen [I] love. Though now [I] do not see Him, yet believing, [I] rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of [my] faith—the salvation of [my soul.]”   

God has given me the gift of faith, and I have accepted His lordship over my life. The Guy who jumped into the hottest fire in existence to save me is worthy of my submission. Once that decision is firmly made, the “problem” of suffering isn’t really a problem anymore. You asked specifically about Job. I will quote from a poem written about Job by John Piper. It is a sentiment to which I deeply relate—“Unkindly has He kindly shown me God.” 

The reason suffering isn’t a problem for me anymore is that I want to see God more than I want to live a life of ease, happiness or comfort. And the truly amazing thing about God is that He ALWAYS shows up in suffering." 

End entry.

This Christmas season, more than any other, I am thankful to serve a God who is "a Man of sorrows and well acquainted with grief." We need the suffering Savior this year. I need the suffering Savior this year. May we all find our solace in Him during this difficult Christmas season.

And if anyone from Newton, Connecticut happens upon my humble blog, I want you to know that I am crying real tears with you, my soul hurts with yours and I am lifting you before my great and awesome God, who will hold you in His very arms if only you will let Him. Grace and peace be with you.