Love Standing in the Very Teeth of Suffering

“Our vision is so limited we can hardly imagine a love that does not show itself in protection from suffering. The love of God is of a different nature altogether. It does not hate tragedy. It never denies reality. It stands in the very teeth of suffering. The love of God did not protect His own Son. The cross was the proof of His love – that He gave that Son, that He let Him go to Calvary’s cross, though “legions of angels” might have rescued Him. He will not necessarily protect us – not from anything it takes to make us like His Son. A lot of hammering and chiseling and purifying by fire will have to go into the process” (Elisabeth Elliott).

Pain isn’t always bad. Sometimes pain means that healing is taking place. Those with broken bones can attest that while the breaking of the bone is painful, so is the healing of the break. But while neither is pleasant, the pain of healing must take place for there to be mending, or else the bone stays broken.

We are the same way. We’re broken. God is healing us. There’s pain involved in that process, but it’s better than the pain of remaining broken. And sometimes for a bone to set and heal properly, it has to be re-broken so it will mend properly.

If you want the ultimate picture of suffering in love, look at Jesus. God did not spare Jesus one moment of suffering, but He instead spared us from the worst of it. While we still undergo pain, God made sure that the worst of it fell on Jesus. He went through hell so we won’t have to. That’s love.

On a side note, parents that never allow their children to suffer or even be inconvenienced aren’t necessarily doing them any favors. Just as the butterfly’s struggle to emerge from the cocoon strengthens its wings to fly, so children struggle to become adults who are strong enough to think and live apart from their parents and on their own.

And for the record, I don’t believe the idea that God never gives us more than we can handle. He never gives us more than He can handle. Sometimes, it’s more than we can bear on our own, so we’re forced to rely on the God who made us to sustain us. That’s when we become more like Jesus.

Nearer Home

O’er the hill the sun is setting,
And the eve is drawing on,
Slowly drops the gentle twilight,
For another day is gone,
Gone for aye, its race is over,
Soon the dark’ning shades will come,
Still ’tis sweet to know at evening,
We are one day nearer home.
Still ’tis sweet to know at evening,
We are one day nearer home.

Nearer home, nearer home,
Oh, ‘tis always sweet to know
We are one day nearer home,
Nearer home; nearer home,
Oh, ‘tis always sweet to know at even,
We are one day nearer home.

Something else I read about Elisabeth Elliott recently said that one of her favorite camp songs growing up was called Nearer Home. It was something she evidently thought about quite a bit as she grew older and started losing her memory due to dementia. This speaks to anyone who is facing their own mortality or the mortality of a loved one. We as believers in Christ are truly getting nearer home each and ever day:

“One day nearer, sings the sailor,
As he glides the waters o’er,
While the light is softly dying,
On his distant native shore,
Thus the Christian, on life’s ocean,
As his lightboat cuts the foam,
In the evening cries with rapture,
I am one day nearer home.
In the evening cries with rapture,
I am one day nearer home.

Nearer home, nearer home,
Oh, ‘tis always sweet to know
We are one day nearer home,
|Nearer home; nearer home,
Oh, ‘tis always sweet to know at even,
We are one day nearer home.

Nearer home, yes, one day nearer,
To our home beyond the sky,
To the green fields and the fountains,
In our Father’s home on high,
For the heav’ns are growing brighter,
And the lamps hang in the dome,
And our hearts are growing lighter,
For we’re one day nearer home.

Nearer home, nearer home,
Oh, ‘tis always sweet to know
We are one day nearer home,
Nearer home; nearer home,
Oh, ‘tis always sweet to know at even,
We are one day nearer home.

Father, be near when my feet
Are slipping o’er the brink,
For it may be I am nearer home,
Nearer now than I think” (Alice Carey).

Instruments of the Potter

“Everything about which we are tempted to complain may be the very instrument whereby the Potter intends to shape His clay into the image of His Son–a headache, an insult, a long line at the check-out, someone’s rudeness or failure to say thank you, misunderstanding, disappointment, interruption. As Amy Carmichael said, ‘See in it a chance to die,’ meaning a chance to leave self behind…”(Elisabeth Elliot)

A quote like this seems to be so far removed from current American Christianity as to almost be another religion. Actually, it’s a lot closer to New Testament faith than what a lot of churches and professing believers hold to.

But it’s not easy. I have a well-developed sense of injury. I don’t like it when people mistreat other people, especially when that other person is me. I want instant vindication. I say I want justice but what I really want is more like revenge.

But seeing an insult as a chance to die to self? That seems like a foreign concept. But it wasn’t to Jesus. Look at how He kept quiet during the farce that passed for a Sanhedrin trial. He was unjustly tried, convicted, and murdered, but not only did He accept it as from the Father, He forgave the very people who killed Him while they were in the very act of killing Him.

If Jesus did that for me, surely I can suffer inconvenience and insult. I can handle a headache from time to time. But it all starts with the right attitude and the right perspective. Philippians 2:5 says for us to have the mind or attitude of Christ and goes on to list a downward trajectory from heavenly throne to earthly manger, from human to slave, from rejected to murdered.

To die to self is to come alive to Christ in me. That’s the real life anyway. Not me hanging on to my perceived rights and nursing grudges and bitterness, but choosing the way of forgiveness and acceptance as from the very hand of God, seeing it as God’s way of shaping me into the very image of Christ.

No Matter What

“Our prayers for guidance (or for anything else) really begin here: I trust him. This requires abandonment. We are no longer saying, ‘If I trust him, he’ll give me such and such,’ but ‘I trust him. Let him give me or withhold from me what he chooses” (Elisabeth Elliot, God’s Guidance: A Slow & Certain Light).

It’s easy to fall into the trap of trying to bargain with God. Something along the lines of “I’ll trust you if you will give me a) a job, b) a spouse, or c) lots of money.”

It feels more like a transaction than faith. If God does X, then I’ll do Y. The trouble is that I’m in no position to bargain with God. He’s the Eternal Lord and King of the Universe who has every right to destroy me because of my sin, and I’m the one who’s only alive at this moment because of His grace.

The truth is that if all God ever did was to save me from an eternity in hell and leave me alone, that would be way more than I deserve. That alone would merit my praise from now until 10,000 X 10,000 years have passed.

But that’s not all God did. He has sustained me and blessed me and been with me through every kind of joy and sorrow, triumph and trial. All He asks in return is my allegiance. My loyalty. My surrender. Me.

It’s not wrong to ask God for things, but the more I spend time with God and in His word and the more I grow in Christlikeness, the things I ask for change and my desire to have them changes.

God doesn’t owe me anything. Even the next breath is a gift. I owe God everything, more than I could possibly ever pay in a million lifetimes. Yet all God asks for is me. I think that’s a good enough reason to trust Him no matter what.

The Sweetest Lesson

“Spread out your petition before God, and then say, ‘Thy will, not mine, be done.’ The sweetest lesson I have learned in God’s school is to let the Lord choose for me” (Dwight L Moody).

I love the imagery of spreading out my petition before God. It comes from 2 Kings 19 where King Hezekiah receives a threatening letter from the Assyrians who are poised to invade the land. Instead of rushing into rash action, Hezekiah takes it before the Lord, literally spreading it out as a kind of offering of submission.

I also think of King Jehoshaphat who faced another massive army, but responded with the prayer, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20:12, ESV).

In short, they both chose to let God fight for them. They decided to let God choose for them.

In my lifetime, I have had several instances where I chose for myself and it did not go well. I was like the greedy man who took the wrong grail cup in the Indiana Jones movie only to hear the words “You have chosen . . . poorly” and basically shrivel up and die.

But every time I have been wise enough and patient enough to let God decide, I have never regretted the outcome. That’s assuming my patience lasted long enough for me actually to wait on the outcome, no matter how long it seemed to take.

Maybe it’s a good idea to literally take whatever it is that is troubling you and spread it before the Lord. It could be unpaid bills or a jury summons or some other document that gives you great anxiety. Or maybe you can spread out your hands in a posture of surrender.

Either way, you and I both need to let God choose. The old prayer still works: Thy will be done. One of my favorite fictional characters, Father Tim Cavanaugh, calls it the prayer that never fails because you truly can’t go wrong asking for God’s will over and above your own.

Thy will be done, no matter what. Thy will be done, even if it means my will is undone (with a nod to Elisabeth Elliott). Thy will be done. Period.

Wise Words from Amy Carmichael

One of my favorite authors growing up was a lady named Amy Carmichael. She served as a missionary to India for over 50 years and wrote quite a bit on the topic of suffering patiently under the hand of God. Some of her books include Gold by Moonlight, Edges of His Ways, and If. Most people who are familiar with her and her writings probably know her from the fact that she was a hero of Elisabeth Elliott’s. Here is a sample of what made her so great. It’s one of my favorite quotes of hers:

“Let us end on a very simple note: Let us listen to simple words; our Lord speak simply: ‘Trust Me, My child,’ He says. ‘Trust Me with a humbler heart and a fuller abandon to My will than ever thou didst before. Trust Me to pour My love through thee, as minute succeeds minute. And if thou shouldst be conscious of anything hindering that flow, do not hurt My love by going away from Me in discouragement, for nothing can hurt so much as that. Draw all the closer to Me; come, flee unto Me to hide thee, even from thyself. Tell Me about the trouble. Trust Me to turn My hand upon thee and thoroughly to remove the boulder that has choked they river-bed, and take away all the sand that has silted up the channel. I will not leave thee until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of. I will perfect that which concerneth thee. Fear thou not, O child of My love; fear not.’

And now…to gather all in one page:

Beloved, let us love.

Lord, what is love?

Love is that which inspired My life, and led Me to My Cross, and held Me on My Cross. Love is that which will make it thy joy to lay down thy life for thy brethren.

Lord, evermore give me this love.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after love, for they shall be filled” (Amy Carmichael).

Getting Back to the Gospel

“Everything about which we are tempted to complain may be the very instrument whereby the Potter intends to shape His clay into the image of His Son–a headache, an insult, a long line at the check-out, someone’s rudeness or failure to say thank you, misunderstanding, disappointment, interruption. As Amy Carmichael said, ‘See in it a chance to die,’ meaning a chance to leave self behind…” (Elisabeth Elliot).

We’ve lost that aspect of faith. In our myopic, selfie-driven, self-focused faith, we miss the part where Jesus told us to take up our cross daily and follow. We’ve forgotten that He said that unless a single seed falls into the ground and dies, it can’t break open and blossom.

I’ve forgotten what it means to die to self daily. All these interruptions and inconveniences, even the hard stuff that shakes the very core of who we are, are merely chances to die and leave self behind. We have the opportunity to become more like Jesus the less we whine and the more we worship, the less we agonize and the more we adore.

So many of us follow after false teaching because we’re not grounded in the goodness of God. As one writer puts it, we lower our theology to match our pain because we’re not steeped in that goodness. The only way for our rough edges to be smoothed away and for the impurities in us to be burned away is to let the Master have His way in us and with us.

That means those thousand tiny deaths to self that happen every day in a thousand different ways. That means that all the negativity in your life, from flat tires to rude co-workers to tragedy in your family is God working in you to be more like Jesus. And God works even those things for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.

This is me reminding me again that nothing is wasted in God’s economy. Everything serves a purpose — even pain — and every trial is a chance to die and be transformed into the image of God’s Son.

Wanting and Willing

What follows was originally penned by Elisabeth Elliott. It speaks to the distinction between wanting to obey and willing to obey. The key is that you obey even when you don’t feel like it. You do the acts of love and then the feelings of love will follow:

“We don’t always have complete control over what we want to do because ‘wants’ are determined by circumstances, feelings, other people, social climate, times in which we live. Nobody ever wanted a pair of Reebok tennis shoes before Reebok tennis shoes were invented. The fact that you want it doesn’t mean you go and buy it. It’s a matter of ‘willing’.

The same thing is true of the will of God. We can determine to will to do the will of God. It’s a conscious choice. You may not w’ant’ to do what you know God wants you to do, but you can will to do what He wants you to do.

Don’t ever allow the devil to take you in with the argument, “You gotta do what you gotta do because if you do something that you don’t wanna do or you don’t do something that you wanna do, You’re being a hypocrite.” That’s rubbish! Do you think a mother changes a baby’s diaper only when she wants to, when she feels like it? No, she does it when the baby’s diaper needs to be changed. She WILLS to do it. It has nothing to do with whether she feels good about it.

Here is a poem I came across:

[ I believe the author was Anna J. Graniss.]

“I saw a little child
With bandaged eyes
Put up its hands
To feel its mother’s face.

She bent and took
The tender, gropy palms
And pressed them to her lips
A little space.

I know a soul
Made blind by its desires
And yet its faith keeps feeling
For God’s face.

Bend down, O Mighty Love
And let that faith
One little moment
Touch Thy lips of grace.”

The same thing as what our loving God does. Even if we are made blind by desires, the things that we want–yet faith–which is a willed act, keeps feeling for God’s face. And when we will to come to Him, will to seek His face, then He in tender love reaches down and takes our hands and leads us to Him.

George McDonald said, ‘f I felt my heart as hard as a stone, if I did not love God, or man, or woman, or little child, I would yet say to God in my heart, ‘Oh, God, see how I trust Thee because Thou art perfect and not changeable like me. I do not love Thee. I love nobody. I am not even sorry for it. Thou seest how much I need Thee to come close to me, to put Thy arm around me, to say to me, ‘My child’. For the worse my state, the greater need of my Father Who loves me.’

If anyone feels he/she has no religious feeling whatsoever, but still desires God, believe me, the Father waits for your slightest move in His direction and He will meet you” (Elisabeth Elliot).

A Symphony of Prayers

“We are not alone. My prayers are perhaps a single note in a symphony, but a necessary note, for I believe in the communion of saints. We need each other. The prayers of one affect all. The obedience of one matters infinitely and forever” (Elisabeth Elliot, Keep a Quiet Heart, See I Corinthians 12:12).

I love that image. All the prayers of all the saints make a kind of symphony that is pleasing to God. I do think that God hears and answers each individual prayer, but I also believe that collectively they rise to the Lord as an incense and aroma like the animal sacrifices of old.

There is something powerful that happens when two or more are gathered in Jesus’ name. The Church can have a greater Kingdom act when gathered together than all the people working and praying separately. That’s why it’s vital to gather and not neglect the meeting together of the people of God.

Each prayer matters. Each act of obedience matters. Together they make up a symphony and show the hands and feet of Jesus to a world that has a need that it cannot name but will recognize Jesus in us as we preach both in our actions and our words.

Christ in Me

It’s Thursday, or as I like to call it, Friday Eve. That means of course that tomorrow’s Friday.

I joke about looking forward to Friday, but so many of us live our lives that way, just getting by from Monday to Friday at 5 pm. That’s not really living as much as it is existing.

If you’re job is something you have to endure to get to the weekend, maybe you need to look for a new job that better suits you.

Maybe what I need isn’t a new set of circumstances (or a new job– I like the one I have) but Christ in me making for a different me in the same circumstances.

Simply put, what I need is Christ in me. As a friend of mine once said, I don’t need a stronger, faster, better version of me. I need a whole new me. That’s Christ in me.

Maybe what I also need is people surrounding me who will bring out the Christ in me, calling forth my best self and not my worst.

Thankfully, Christ in me is not dependent on how super spiritual I am or how disciplined I am or anything like that. It’s all about how Christ is always faithful to His promises to finish the good work He started in me way back when.

My part is to stay surrendered and willing, no matter what.

That’s my everlasting hope, Christ in me.