Not Done Yet

“But endurance must do its complete work, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:4 HCSB).

This verse caught my attention recently, perhaps because I was reading it in a different translation than I usually use. I think I’ve typically paid more attention to verses 2-3: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” But it’s verse 4 that points out the end goal.

We don’t endure simply for the sake of learning endurance, but so that we may reach maturity. But here’s the rub: we aren’t the ones who get to determine when maturity has been completed. The Apostle Paul, in one of my favorite verses, states, “I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 1:6). God not only sets the standard for perfection in our lives, but He’s also the one who will bring it about at the end of time. So long as we live in this fallen world with these broken bodies, we’ll have to keep enduring a variety of trials and struggles. And as we endure in Christ, we’re slowly being conformed to His image.

It’s possible to endure in ways that don’t lead toward maturity. Some people may be quick to tell you all that they are putting up with, but there is little evidence of the fruit of the Spirit growing in their lives. Enduring in your own strength can look like just gritting your teeth and holding on with all your might. But enduring with Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit brings peace in the midst of the storm, humbly trusting that God will sustain you as long as necessary. That kind of calm assurance comes with the maturing process.

Now that I can’t avoid the fact that I’m middle-aged, I generally consider myself to be pretty mature in most areas of life. But I’ve also been realizing areas where I’m still relying on false narratives I learned as a child. Looking back, I can see ways that I have matured over many years, but I know I still have much to learn to be truly mature and complete.

In an episode of the Being Human podcast that I listened to this week, the comment was made that in the Christian life suffering is a feature and not a bug. We tend to think that if we could just reprogram some part of our brains then we wouldn’t have to deal with suffering, as if endurance is simply one lesson we need to learn and then we’re done with it. If our Savior endured suffering, why do we think we should be exempt? We are to follow in His steps, even when it includes suffering (1 Pet. 2:21).

Just as little children need to mature by learning that they can’t always get what they want, we too need to remember that things won’t always go our way or be easy and pleasant. This world can’t satisfy all our desires, but it makes us long for the perfect life that is yet to come. When that day comes, then we’ll be mature enough to enjoy it as God intends.

“As for [the seed that] fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience [endurance]” (Luke 8:14-15).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Not My Strength

I Prayed and Nothing Changed is a new book by Ste Casey. Part of the book focuses on the Apostle Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:

“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three time I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. 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” (vv. 7-9).

Casey makes the point that whatever Paul’s thorn was, it was given to him by God for the purpose of keeping him humble. It seems that the thorn (or “stake”) was specifically suited for Paul’s temperament, to keep him reliant upon God.

When we face trials and difficulties, we can often forget that God is still in control. Satan could not touch Job without God’s permission (Job 1-2), and the same is true for us. We may also forget that God uses all things for the good purpose of conforming us to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:28-29). If those truths were always solidly planted in our hearts, we’d probably find it easier to “give thanks in all circumstances, [remembering that] this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thess. 5:18).

It is hard to accept and remember that our specific trials are those that God knows will best suit His purposes in our lives. I’ve often thought “If I just had that particular problem, I could handle it easily.” That’s probably why I have to deal with different challenges instead. Successfully handling something in my own strength is only going to lead to pride. But having to rely on God to uphold me day by day makes me remember that it is His strength that is perfect, not mine.

Modern culture tells us we aren’t supposed to be weak, dependent, or (heaven forbid!) uncomfortable. But that is not how God’s kingdom operates. Casey writes:

“We learn from Paul that in the kingdom of the crucified and risen Lord, surrender is success, weakness is strength, and humility is greatness. There is no joy without pain, no victory without wounds, and no wealth without loss” (ch. 1).

When we go through seasons, or a lifetime, of struggle in some area, may we cling to the truths that 1) God is good, 2) He is fully aware of what we’re dealing with, 3) He has permitted it in our lives, and 4) He will use it for our good and His glory. Therefore, we can rest in His sustaining power and give thanks.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Is. 41:10).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Who's In?

I’ve been catching up on episodes of The Chosen, and just watched the season 4 episode “The Last Sign.” In that episode in particular, there are various conversations between the disciples as they wonder, “Did you expect things to go this way?” Each one came with different expectations. You can almost feel sorry for Judas as he tries to push things in the way he thinks they are supposed to go, because he’s got a particular idea of what the Messiah is supposed to do. And for all the disciples, the death of Lazarus seemed like an anomaly. And then when Jesus raised him from the dead the question arose why Lazarus raised and not others they had loved and lost. I suspect we all have times when we want to say, “This isn’t what I signed up for!”

In a recent episode of the Being Human podcast, Steve Cuss interviewed Beth Moore. Towards the end he comments on the fact that she felt a strong call to ministry when she was really young, but she never imagined that she would have a ministry of trauma healing and helping those who battle mental illness. Beth says, “We would no more have signed up for the ministries He ends up calling us to than anything. And yet, when all is said and done, these have been the things that mattered most.”

Beth went on to mention the man born blind in John 9. When the disciples ask whose fault it was that the man was blind, Jesus responds, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (v. 3). Perhaps his whole life he’d wondered why he had to deal with this particular form of suffering. Maybe he had sought out healers in the past and been disappointed. But then Jesus came along and healed him—so that God’s work might be displayed in him. It doesn’t take long for the man to start proclaiming that Jesus is a prophet (v. 17).

What things make you wonder “Why is this part of my life?” Maybe it’s a physical problem, an emotional challenge, or relationship issues. It could be just about anything. Have you ever considered how God might use it for His glory? It may be something as simple as your testimony of God’s sustaining you through dark times. You are the only one who can share your particular testimony, and it may help someone who is experiencing trials of their own.

Sometimes in the church we may give people the impression that following Jesus makes life easy and doubt-free. I think we do a disservice to our young people especially when we don’t share the struggles we face at all stages of life, even when we are faithfully serving God. Rebecca Olson wrote in A New Normal: Learning to Thrive in Suffering:

“Your response to a shipwrecked life may draw more of the right kind of attention to God than a lifetime of smooth sailing. Your commitment to honor God even in your doubt and confusion can prove to a watching world that God is worth following... Furthermore, not only does your steadfast commitment to Christ present a compelling witness to unbelievers, but your perspective on your own suffering emboldens other believers (see 2Co 11).”

In my many miles of trail hiking and running, I’ve realized that the narrower the trail is, the more twists, turns, bumps, and roots there are to trip over. Wide trails make it easier to speed along without concerns. Jesus said the wide path is easy, but it leads to destruction. “The gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few” (Matt. 7:14). He never promised an easy life or smooth sailing for those who follow Him. But He did promise that He’d be with us through the hills and valleys and every bump and turn of the trail.

When we come to those times of wondering what in the world God is up to, and we’re tempted to say “This isn’t what I thought I was signing up for,” we can return again and again to the words of Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). We probably brought some misconceptions with us when we decided to follow Jesus, and we’ve all faced detours that took us in directions we weren’t prepared to go. But in the end, there is only One who can redeem all our trials and use them for our eternal good and His glory. Why would we turn away now?

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Rom. 5:3-4).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

What Do You Want?

In John 5 Jesus went by the Pool of Bethesda, where supposedly an angel occasionally stirred the water and the first person to enter the pool would be healed. There He encountered a man who had been an invalid for 38 years. Jesus asks him, “Do you wanted to be healed?” Some translations phrase it, “Do you want to get well?” The man responds, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me” (v. 7). I’ve heard this interpreted as the man making excuses and not really desiring healing. This reading makes Jesus’s question almost a rebuke— “Do you really want to get well, or are you just laying around?”

I’ve seen this interpretation enough times that it’s hard not to read the passage with that tone of voice. But I don’t think that’s how we ought to hear it. For one thing, Jesus immediately healed the man, and apparently didn’t heal anyone else at the pool that day. Jesus knew the what was in the hearts of those He met (John 2:25), so He certainly would have known if the man had hidden motives. Besides which, Jesus didn’t make anyone justify their worthiness to be healed, whether they came looking for help or not. None of us are worthy of God’s intervention in our lives.

Instead, I believe Jesus looked at the man with great compassion and His question was intended to let the man give voice to his helplessness and hopelessness. Who among us wouldn’t lose hope after 38 years in bed? Did he shed a tear each time he missed out on getting into the pool, or had he managed to convince himself it wasn’t such a big deal?

If you’ve dealt with any kind of recurring or unremitting suffering, the last thing you need is some kind of guilt trip like “If you really wanted to be well, you’d find a way” or “If you had enough faith you’d be healed.” That is one of the lies of the prosperity gospel and groups like the Christian Scientists. In contrast, J. C. Ryle wrote:

“Affliction is one of God’s medicines. By it He often teaches lessons which would be learned in no other way. By it He often draws souls away from sin and the world, which would otherwise have perished everlastingly. Health is a great blessing, but sanctified disease is a greater. Prosperity and worldly comfort are what all naturally desire; but losses and crosses are far better for us, if they lead us to Christ. Thousands at the last day, will testify with David, and the nobleman before us, ‘It is good for me that I have been afflicted.’ (Psalms 119:71).”

If we are completely comfortable and content with this life, we are likely not longing for the new life to come. And if we are not eagerly awaiting the blessed hope of Jesus’s return, we probably aren’t focused on living as citizens of His kingdom or sharing the good news that this world is not the goal or end of the story. Affliction can remind us where our priorities ought to be. A few decades of suffering might seem interminable now, but one day we’ll look back and realize that was nothing compared to the “surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord” (Phil. 3:8).

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:17-18).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Amidst the Unknown

In his book Seasons of Sorrow, Tim Challies shares meditations on the death of his only son at the age of 20. He comments,

“God is working out his good will, not despite dark days, difficult trials, and broken hearts, but through them. Such circumstances are the raw material he uses to form and shape his good plans, his perfect purposes... The history of God’s work is this world is full of such ‘afterwards.’ Joseph had to be for many years a slave before he could be a ruler and declare to his brothers, ‘God sent me before you to preserve life’ and ‘you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.’ Moses’s mother had to set him afloat on the river and release him to be raised by a foreign princess before she knew her son would lead the great exodus.”

I would add a few details to that: Jacob lived for many years believing that his beloved son Joseph was dead, and only in his old age did he find out that Joseph was alive and well in Egypt. Moses’s mother is not mentioned in Scripture after her baby was weaned and adopted into the royal family. There is no evidence that she was even alive when Moses returned to lead the people out of Egypt. She likely died knowing only that her son had fled the palace.

There was also Job, afflicted in almost every conceivable way, and trying to figure out what God was up to in his life. It appears that God never did answer why it all happened, and only reminded Job that He was still sovereign. In addition, there were many generations of Israelites in the Promised Land awaiting the Messiah and wondering when God was going to fulfill His promises.

Jesus told His disciples, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand” (John 13:7). Eleven of them found out the truth a few days later and were emboldened to preach the gospel to a hostile world. But one died in his despair, not believing that he could ever be forgiven for betraying his Lord.

There is much in this life that we cannot know or understand now. Some of our questions may be answered in short order, and some may not be answered even in eternity. I truly believe that God is working all things together for good for His children, but many times I wish I knew exactly what good He is planning to bring about and what His schedule is. His good purposes will probably look somewhat different in each of us. I don’t know why Tim Challies lost his son at the beginning of a life of faithful ministry, but I am glad to read his thoughts as he has processed this with God at his side. I don’t know what good comes through having a parent with Alzheimer’s (though I’m learning). I don’t know why a teenager gets cancer or a young man rebels. As Challies notes, “Our lives are not our own. They never are. They never were. ‘In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind’” (Job 12:10).

I can only speak for myself, but I am (ever so slowly) learning a few good things that come out of a lifetime of recurring depression. I am more conscious of my weakness and my need for God’s strength to keep carrying me through the valleys. I am more honest and more likely to reach out to others for help and encouragement. I am more faithful in praying for others I know who are struggling in various ways. In these small ways I am becoming more like Christ and, hopefully, contributing to the needs of His Body here on earth. I don’t know what the future holds, and I can’t even begin to fathom the “eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:17) that is to come. But from where I am today, would I erase depression from my life story if I could? No. God has used it to make me who I am now and who I will be in the future, and I trust that His plan is best even if I can’t fully understand it.

“These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth” (Heb. 11:13).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Encouraging Words

As we near the end of Mental Health Awareness Month, I thought I’d share a selection of resources that I’ve found helpful at different times in life, some of which I’ve quoted in prior blog posts. I may not agree with everything these authors and speakers share, but have generally found them to be helpful and encouraging.

Books

Glimmers of Grace, Kathryn Butler

What Does Depression Mean for My Faith? Kathryn Butler

Not Quite Fine: Mental Health, Faith, and Showing Up for One Another, Carlene Hill Byron

Midnight Mercies: Walking with God through Depression in Motherhood, Christine Chappell

Pursuing Health in an Anxious Age, Bob Cutillo

Spurgeon’s Sorrows: Realistic Hope for those who Suffer from Depression, Zack Eswine

Darkness Is My Only Companion: A Christian Response to Mental Illness, Kathryn Greene-McCreight

Untangling Emotions, Alasdair Groves and Winston Smith

Companions in the Darkness, Diana Gruver

Blessed Are the Misfits, Brant Hansen

Embodied Hope: A Theological Meditation on Pain and Suffering, Kelly Kapic

You’re Only Human: How Your Limits Reflect God’s Design and Why That’s Good News, Kelly Kapic

Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, Tim Keller

When Darkness Seems My Closest Friend, Mark Meynell

A Christian’s Guide to Mental Illness, David Murray and Tom Karel, Jr.

Christians Get Depressed Too, David Murray

Sacred Endurance: Finding Grace and Strength for a Lasting Faith, Trillia Newbell

I Trust When Dark My Road, Todd Peperkorn (free pdf download!)

God’s Grace in Your Suffering, David Powlison

The Scars That Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering, Vaneetha Risner

Depression: Looking Up from the Stubborn Darkness, Ed Welch

Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, Mark Vroegop

CSB Life Counsel Bible- contains many of the New Growth Press minibook series

Blogs

CCEF Blog

Penetrating the Darkness, Terry Powell

Podcasts

Hope + Help Podcast, Christine Chappell

CCEF Podcast, Alasdair Groves

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Yes, Mental Illness Exists

A prominent Christian leader is reported to have said recently that “There is no such thing as mental illness.” While I agree that we need to normalize the experience of suffering, mourning, and anxiety within the church, his statement is likely to have the opposite effect, which makes me sad. Those of us who take medication for various mental illnesses don’t need added shame for not being able to cope without them. We feel plenty of shame already, because it feels like everyone else has stronger faith and better coping skills than we do. Even if science can’t explain why, some medications do help some people. They don’t necessarily fix the problems, but they reduce the symptoms enough that we can carry on with daily life and, hopefully, get good, godly counsel as well. As Kathryn Butler notes in a new article from TGC:

“The first stop when seeking help for depression is your primary doctor’s office, but it shouldn’t be the last. While a doctor determines whether an antidepressant will help, it’s critically important to couple any medication with counseling.”

However, godly counseling can be hard to find as well, particularly if one is relying on the local church to provide it. Most pastors and church leaders don’t have the training or the time to provide the deep, long-term counseling that many of their church members need. And depending on their theology, they may create more problems than they solve. I’ve been blessed to find a Christian counselor within the medical system, but available appointments are few. For those with more intensive needs, it can be expensive to get the necessary help.

In the CT 2024 Pastors Special Issue, Jeannie Whitlock writes of Recapturing Wonder in a Cynical Age:

“Many of us haven’t even processed everything we have lost, pushed by a culture that urges us to quickly move on. But as Christian Wiman warns, unaddressed grief will make itself known, showing up in ‘every kind of crying but the kind you can see.’ Our bodies keep the score. Bottled sorrow can metastasize into physical ailments, unexplained fatigue, heartache, weakened immunity, or constant irritation. Yet, many American Christians are terrible at grieving.”

Often times it seems as though the church has lost the art of lament, in part because we’ve forgotten how to bear one another’s burdens. We’ve accepted superficial relationships as “good enough.” If the church were better at all the “one another” commands, there probably would be less need for medications and outside counseling services, but those will never completely go away in this lifetime. We live in a broken world, where our bodies and minds are impacted by sickness, suffering, and sin (our own and others’). Telling people “there’s no such thing as mental illness” is somewhere on the spectrum between “Just deal with it” and “If you just have enough faith you will be healed,” neither of which is helpful or encouraging.

In the midst of writing this, a severe storm moved through the area, providing me with an analogy. The property next to my house was recently clear-cut for building an electrical substation. When the storm came, a large pine tree that was left at the edge of the woods fell across the power lines. Because it no longer had neighboring trees on three sides, it was more susceptible to the wind than it had been before. Likewise, many Christians, and especially those struggling with mental illness, feel like they are on the fringe of church life with little support and protection from the storms of life. We need aid in whatever forms we can get it.

Perhaps we all need the reminder that God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer” (2 Cor. 1:4-6).

“Therefore encourage one another with these words” (1 Thess. 4:18).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Image courtesy of SAMHSA.gov. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Fast Forward

Reading through the Simplified Harmony of the Gospels, I came across a couple verses that got me thinking. The first comes from John 17:24:

“Father, I desire that they also, whom You have given Me, may be with Me where I am, to see My glory that You have given Me because You loved Me before the foundation of the world.”

Why did Jesus pray this? Like much of His “high priestly prayer” it states things that were already predetermined. In a way, the whole prayer is more of an encouraging word to the disciples than a petition to the Father. However, another verse just a little later in the timeline shifted my focus a bit:

“My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will” (Matt. 26:39).

It’s clear that Jesus would have preferred a less painful and difficult way to achieve salvation for mankind, but He submitted to the Father’s plan. If you take that perspective back to the verse in John, it sounds to me as though Jesus might have been praying, “Father, I wish we could just skip to the end where we all dwell together in eternal glory.” That is encouraging because it sounds like many of my own prayers.

Even if my interpretation is stretching it, we can still draw strength from the fact that Jesus knows our struggles and our desire to avoid pain. He can “sympathize with our weaknesses” (Heb. 4:15) and He “endured the cross” for us (Heb. 12:1). When life is overwhelming and we want to fast forward to the end, He understands and He walks with us through it all. I imagine it brings a smile to His face each time we pray “Lord, come quickly!”

It’s okay to wish for and pray for an end to pain, suffering, and difficult circumstances, though we know that God may not answer those prayers in the way we want. It’s also okay to long for that final Day when all things will be made perfect. In fact, I believe that the longer we live and grow in faith, and the more we experience of the brokenness of this world, the more we should long for the “new heavens and new earth in which righteousness dwells” (2 Pet. 3:13b).

Jesus spent a lot of time speaking of eternal things, and He encouraged His disciples by point ahead. “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also” (John 14:3). He never sugarcoated suffering (e.g. Matt. 5:3-12), but He urged us to remember that this is not “your best life now” but merely a prelude to real life in His kingdom. So we can continue to wish and pray for the soon-fulfillment of our hope in the presence of His eternal glory!

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him... The world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever” (1 John 2:15, 17).

***

Here’s an episode of the Broken Vessels Podcast that touches on some of these ideas and more.

© 2023 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

A Long Journey

In his book Angry with God: An Honest Journey Through Suffering and Betrayal, Brad Hambrick writes,

“We usually only think of sanctification in terms of purification from sin… But if we only think of sanctification in terms of purification, we begin to believe that every unpleasant emotion that emerges from suffering reveals an idol, some aspect of life taking on a God-sized role in our heart. This belief is inaccurate, creates false guilt, and causes God to come across we an uncaring cosmic Cop… What is the complementary aspect of sanctification that needs to be emphasized? If sanctification is the process of becoming more Christlike, the following question will point us to the answer. What verb does the Bible use to describe Jesus’ response to suffering? Consider what Hebrews 12:2 says of Jesus: ‘Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God’ (emphasis added). We become like Jesus when we endure suffering in a way that resists the shame that often accompanies it. We need a view of sanctification that allows us to both be purified from sin without a condemning sense of guilt and endure suffering without a stigmatizing sense of shame. That is what it is to be Christlike in a broken world where sin and suffering are both common experiences” (143-144).

This is a perspective I had not heard before, and one that is much needed in the church. We can get so fixated on sanctification as removal of sin that we look for, and often find, evidence of personal sin behind every difficulty in life. And then when people are suffering for unknown reasons or for reasons outside their control, they feel a need to hide it lest others think the worst of them.

In one sense sin is the cause of all suffering, because all of creation was impacted by the sin of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. But not all suffering is directly linked to personal sin. Many of us live with broken bodies, broken hearts, and broken minds. For those who are suffering, it can be hard to know how to relate to others in the church when they all seem to be content with projecting the “Life is good” image. Chronic illness, whether physical or mental, carries an unspoken stigma simply because it has no end, and other people don’t know how to relate to that unchanging need.

I came across this quote from Hudson Taylor, and though he seems to be primarily addressing obedience, it also speaks to the mystery of suffering and the sovereignty of God:

“If God has called you to be really like Jesus in all your spirit, He will draw you into a life of crucifixion and humility, and put on you such demands of obedience that He will not allow you to follow other Christians; and in many ways He will seem to let other good people do things that He will not let you do… So make up your mind that God is an infinite Sovereign, and has a right to do as He pleases with His own, and He may not explain to you a thousand things which may puzzle your reason in His dealings with you.”

There is much that we do not know, cannot understand, and do not enjoy about the way God works in this world and in His people. Faith often means trusting that God will one day make all the darkness disappear in the light of that new day of eternity.

“Behold, I go forward, but He is not there, and backward, but I do not perceive Him; on the left hand when He is working, I do not behold Him; He turns to the right hand, but I do not see Him. But He knows the way that I take; when He has tried me, I shall come out as gold” (Job 23:8-10).

© 2023 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Walking with God through Pain and Suffering

Perhaps the best book I’ve read so far this year is Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, by Tim Keller. He starts with a few chapters on the “problem of evil” and how that shapes or is shaped by our understanding of God (theodicy). But then he moves into more practical application for those who are suffering. Following are a few quotes that stood out to me:

80- [One] of the main teachings of the Bible is that almost no one grows into greatness or finds God without suffering, without pain coming into our lives like smelling salts to wake us up to all sorts of facts about life and our own hearts to which we were blind. For reasons past our finding out, even Christ did not bring salvation and grace to us apart from infinite suffering on the cross. As he loved us enough to face the suffering with patience and courage, so we must learn to trust in him enough to do the same. And as his weakness and suffering, thus faced, led to resurrection power, so can ours.

121-122- If God actually provided an explanation of all the reasons why he allows things to happen as they do, it would be too much for our finite brains. Think of little children and their relationship to their parents... though they aren’t capable of knowing their parents’ reasons, they are capable of knowing their parents’ love and therefore are capable of trusting them and living securely. That is what they really need. Now, the difference between God and human beings is infinitely greater than the difference between a thirty-year-old parent and a three-year-old child. So we should not expect to be able to grasp all God’s purposes, but through the cross and gospel of Jesus Christ, we can know his love. And that is what we need most.

262- It is perhaps most striking of all to realize that if God had given Joseph the things he was likely asking for in prayer, it would have been terrible for him. And we must realize that it was likely God essentially said no relentlessly, over and over, to nearly all Joseph’s specific requests for a period of about twenty years... In the dungeon, Joseph turns to God for help in interpreting the dream. Despite all the years of unanswered prayer, Joseph was still trusting God. The point is this—God was hearing and responding to Joseph’s prayers for deliverance, rescue, and salvation, but not in the ways or forms or times Joseph asked for it.

264- We must never assume that we know enough to mistrust God’s ways or be bitter against what he has allowed. We must also never think we have really ruined our lives, or have ruined God’s good purposes for us... The pain and misery that resulted in their lives from his action were very great. Yet God used it redemptively. You cannot destroy his good purposes for us. He is too great, and will weave even great sins into a fabric that makes us into something useful and valuable. Ultimately, we must trust God’s love.

287-288- And in the end, God said Job triumphed. How wonderful that our God sees the grief and anger and questioning, and is still willing to say “you triumphed” —not because it was all fine, not because Job’s heart and motives were always right, but because Job’s doggedness in seeking the face and presence of God meant that the suffering did not drive him away from God but toward him. And that made all the difference.

312- When things go wrong, one of the ways you lose your peace is that you think maybe you are being punished. But look at the cross! All the punishment fell on Jesus. Another thing you may think is that maybe God doesn’t care. But look at the cross! The Bible gives you a God that says, “I have lost a child too; not involuntarily— voluntarily, on the cross, for your sake. So that I could bring you into my family.”

In short, I found the book to be an encouraging reminder to trust God more fully (I’m still a work in progress), because He is the only One who can work all things together for our ultimate good and His glory.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).

© 2023 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. Image courtesy of Amazon.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Not Me

Last Sunday at our church, Ron Thomas preached on Luke 9:

“And He said to all, ‘If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses His life for My sake will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?” (9:23-25).

As Ron pointed out, we have accepted a rather watered-down version of Christianity in the modern world. We settle for being “Christian-ish” rather than fully committing to Jesus as our Lord. During the sermon another passage came to my mind:

“After this many of His disciples turned back and no longer walked with Him. So Jesus said to the twelve, ‘Do you want to go away as well?’ Simon Peter answered Him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that You are the Holy One of God’” (John 6:66-69).

Do we truly believe Christianity is about life or death, or is it merely a lifestyle choice? If it is a lifestyle, then we have no grounds for asking others to make the same choice, no reason to share the gospel—for what is the “good news” of telling others to give up their comforts and pleasures? But if it is a matter of eternal life or death, our choice to obey Jesus as Lord really does matter. We don’t give up things that we enjoy simply for the sake of giving them up. We give up seemingly good things when we know that there is something supremely better to come. “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose” (Jim Elliot).

When the world is enticing, Lord, help us to choose holiness.

When people hurt or disappointment us, help us to seek only Your face.

When culture judges or ridicules, help us to look only to You for approval.

When life is hard, help us to look to eternity.

“The world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever” (1 John 2:17).

***

You can listen to Ron’s sermon here: https://www.buzzsprout.com/8612/12235779

© 2023 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

The Needs of the One

There are two scenes from Star Trek that have come to mind frequently in recent weeks. At the end of “The Wrath of Khan,” when Spock is about to die because of his efforts to save the ship, comes the following dialogue:

Spock: Don't grieve, Admiral. It is logical. The needs of the many outweigh... 
Kirk: ...the needs of the few.
Spock: Or the one. I have been and always shall be your friend.

Then at the end of “The Search for Spock” is this interaction:

Spock: My father says that you have been my friend. You came back for me.
Kirk: You would have done the same for me.
Spock: Why would you do this?
Kirk: Because the needs of the one... outweigh the needs of the many.

If I’m honest, I often think that the first scene reflects God’s attitude toward mankind— “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.” When difficulties arise in life, it’s tempting to think that God has bigger concerns than the wellbeing of one person, that He’s weighed us in a balance and the “best result for the most people” will always outweigh the few who are hurt in the process. I suppose that reflects Western business principles.

It’s complicated by the fact that God is focused on eternal priorities—salvation and sanctification—when we are often craving temporary comforts. It is also difficult to understand when God doesn’t reveal all His plans ahead of time and He rarely answers the question “Why?” However, Scripture tells us:

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows” (Luke 12:6-7).

“Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, You know it altogether. You hem me in behind and before, and lay Your hand upon me… Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:4-5, 16).

“When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:17-18).

Somehow, in God’s economy, His care for individuals is intricately woven into His care for His Church as a whole, along with His care for humanity in general. One way that gets worked out is that God uses suffering to strengthen and purify each of us. James wrote,

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:2-4).

Peter put it this way,

“In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:6-7).

I suspect that if given a choice, most of us would prefer satisfaction over sanctification, comfort over completion, ephemeral peace over eternal perfection. Paul Tripp wrote in Suffering: Gospel Hope When Life Doesn’t Make Sense,

“Here is suffering’s paradox: the very thing we would do anything to avoid, the very things that confront our understanding of who we are, and the very things that cause us the most pain become the very things that usher into our lives the blessings of the help, hope, peace, and rest that we all long to experience” (162).

“So your suffering isn’t purposeless, impersonal pain that robs you of what’s good. It’s a tool picked up by a Savior of wisdom, love, and grace to produce wonderful things in and through you that you could never produce on your own” (185).

We need a change of perspective (and I’m preaching to myself here!). We need constant reminders that God is good, that He cares, and that He is in control. May God give us the faith to endure and to trust that His good purposes will prevail even when we can’t begin to fathom what He is doing here and now.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose. For those whom He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, in order that He might be the firstborn among many brothers… [Nothing] in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:28-29, 39).

***

The end of today’s prayer from Valley of Vision is relevant to this subject:

Give me unwavering faith
  that supplications are never in vain,
  that if I seem not to obtain my petitions
    I shall have larger, richer answers,
    surpassing all that I ask or think.
Unsought, thou hast given me
  the greatest gift, the person of thy Son,
  and in him thou wilt give me all I need.

***

© 2022 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. Image copyright free from pixabay.com and revised by Dawn Rutan. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

In the Storm

Have you ever thought about the storms in Scripture? There are quite a few of them. The first and biggest was the flood in the days of Noah (Genesis 6-8). Noah had the privilege of hearing God’s direct commands to build the ark and take in the animals. But after the door was shut, it seems that God was silent for about a year. I imagine Noah and his family were wondering if the earth would ever reappear or if God had forgotten them. Eventually God did dry up the land and call Noah out of the ark.

Another familiar storm was the result of Jonah’s disobedience and fleeing from his call to Nineveh. The others in the ship somehow knew that this storm had a purpose behind it, and they cast lots to find out whose fault it was. Jonah was apparently ready to die in the sea, but God rescued him with a great fish. It’s not clear whether Jonah actually learned his lesson or not. He did what God commanded, but grumbled about it to the end.

In the Gospels there are a couple storms mentioned. In the first, the disciples were headed across the lake while Jesus was asleep in the boat. A storm arose that frightened even the experienced fishermen among them. They woke Jesus, who stilled the storm and then asked them, “Where is your faith?” Their response was to marvel, “Who then is this, that He commands even the winds and water, and they obey Him?” (Luke 8:25).

Later on, Jesus sent the disciples into the boat alone while He took time to pray. When He came walking on the sea, they were terrified, “but immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27). Peter was bold enough to get out of the boat, but began to sink when he took his eyes off Jesus. This storm ended with the disciples worshiping Jesus, saying, “Truly You are the Son of God” (v. 33).

One other prominent storm occurred with the Apostle Paul in Acts 27. The crew of the ship made an ill-advised decision to leave port and ended up in a major storm that lasted at least two weeks. Under divine guidance, Paul urged them to stay with the ship and to eat when they could. They finally ran aground and managed to make it to shore on the debris of the ship with all lives saved.

From just these few examples, we see that the storms of life may be a result of individual sin (Jonah), the sin of the multitudes (Noah), bad decisions (Acts), to reveal the Savior (the disciples), or for other unknown reasons. In Finding Jesus in the Storm, John Swinton writes “Retrospective spiritual direction allows people to see where God was in the midst of the storms and to help them use that knowledge as an encouragement and source of hope now and for the future” (p. 214). While I agree with that in principle, I know that it’s easier to see how God was at work after the fact than it is during the storm. When you’re focused on survival, it can be hard to remember God’s faithfulness. When you’re busy bailing water, you don’t always remember the blessings of nets full of fish (John 21:6-7) or deliverance from danger (2 Cor. 11:25-30).

Like David we may be saying, “Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me” (Psalm 69:1-2). Whether the storm is physical, mental, emotional, or relational, there is a spiritual aspect to it. Storms test our faith and our understanding of who God is and how He will act. C.S. Lewis wrote, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be” (Letter to Father Peter Bide 4/19/59, Collected Letters Vol. 3).

When we struggle to remember God’s presence and we doubt His care, we need others who can remind us of the truth—not just quoting Scripture at us or speculating as to what God is up to, but walking with us through the storm, embodying God’s love and grace, and praying for God to sustain us in the darkest of nights. We need more people like that in our churches.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you” (Isaiah 43:2).

© 2022 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Seen and Unseen

In all the hype and talk about social media—its dangers and delights—it occurred to me recently that there’s a benefit that perhaps gets overlooked at times. Seeing likes or comments on your post gives the sense of being seen by others. It doesn’t really matter what the post is about—it’s an affirmation that we do exist and are not invisible. That may seem like an inconsequential thing, but consider the fact that through the pandemic there were untold numbers of people living in complete isolation and skyrocketing statistics on depression and anxiety. And isolation still lingers for many people.

I started thinking about the people who show up on my Facebook feed regularly (recognizing that algorithms control that in ways I can’t comprehend), and a large percentage of them are women who never married or are single again. In this podcast transcript from The Gospel Coalition, the comment was made that women use social media to connect with friends and family more so than men do. For those who live alone, social media is a small point of contact to say, “I’m still here and I hope you see me.” And for those who are not working outside the home, through retirement or other reasons, there can be a real deficiency in human contact most days of the week.

Scripture has a variety of references to being seen. One is in Genesis 16 when Hagar fled from Sarai into the wilderness. God speaks to her and her response is, “You are the God who sees me… I have now seen the One who sees me” (16:13 NIV). Another time, when Israel is suffering in bondage in Egypt, we’re told, “God saw the people of Israel—and God knew” (Ex. 2:25).

Jesus was also keen to see and reach out to people who were suffering and who lacked connection in the community.

• Matthew 9:20-22 – “And behold, a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His garment… Jesus turned, and seeing her He said, ‘Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.”
• Luke 7:12-15 – “As He drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother… And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her… And He said, ‘Young man, I say to you, arise.’ And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother.”
• Luke 13:11-12 – “And behold, there was a woman who had had a disabling spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not fully straighten herself. When Jesus saw her, He called her over and said to her, ‘Woman, you are freed from your disability.’”
• John 5:5-6 – At the pool of Bethesda, “One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, He said to him, ‘Do you want to be healed?’”

Sometimes the church is not so good at seeing the suffering and lonely individuals in our midst. In many churches, the only time we acknowledge sorrow is at funerals. Our worship services rarely include songs of lament, and prayer times often only include physical needs. In his book Finding Jesus in the Storm: The Spiritual Lives of Christians with Mental Health Challenges, John Swinton writes:

“If our liturgical practices do not take onboard the full breadth of human experiences, our formation will be incomplete… ‘We don’t name, we don’t lift up mental illness in our litany of concerns, so people feel invisible.’ The suggestion that some people may become invisible in worship is deeply troubling. If… some among us ‘disappear’ because of the shape of our worship practices, then all of us are failing in our task to honor God and to love our neighbor” (208-209).

Whether it’s in our church services or in daily life, to be the Body of Christ we need to follow Jesus' example of truly seeing those around us and making sure they don’t fall through the cracks and disappear.

“If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Cor. 12:26).

***

© 2022 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Do You Know?

Do you know
Christians suffer,
sorrow remains,
Satan attacks,
sin makes us stumble?

Do you know
life hurts,
joy wanes,
hope hides,
pain silences praise?

Do you know
unanswered questions,
unrealized desires,
unspoken needs,
the high stakes of suffering?

Do you know
the doubt,
the aloneness,
the discomfort,
of life torn apart?

Do you know
grace is not
always rescue,
but power
to keep enduring?

Do you know
it takes courage
to gather
with joyful saints
and overcomers?

Do you know
we need
sacred spaces,
scars seen,
lament welcomed?

Do you know
sorrow comes
before joy,
we ache for the
coming kingdom?

Do you know
salvation comes
from God,
not self-sufficiency
and striving?

Do you know
Jesus willingly
accepted suffering,
the Spirit
groans on our behalf?

Do you know
you are never
too broken,
too needy
for Christ’s kingdom?

Do you know
we are
formed by affliction,
shaped by suffering,
conformed to the image of Christ?

Do you know
we are
canvases of
God’s art,
reflecting our Savior?

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed” (1 Pet. 4:12-13).

***

Inspired by thoughts from chapter 9 of This Too Shall Last: Finding Grace When Suffering Lingers, by K. J. Ramsey: “We will have suffering in this world, and as we courageously endure it, the whole church will better know the sustaining power and presence of Christ.”

© 2022 Dawn Rutan text and image. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Out of the Depths

As I write this, I’m in an emotional pit created by a combination of sleepless nights, chronic depression, seasonal depression, and situational depression. In the midst of this, I started reading Embodied Hope: A Theological Meditation on Pain and Suffering, by Kelly Kapic. Although he writes from the perspective of those dealing with physical suffering, much of what he says can be applied to almost any situation. From the back cover, “Too often the Christian attitude toward suffering is characterized by a detached academic appeal to God’s sovereignty, as if suffering were a game or a math problem.” I would describe the book as an appeal to Christians to comfort those who mourn, not with theological treatises or vague platitudes, but by coming alongside the sufferer and entering into their pain. Following are some quotes:

“Even if we had in hand a theodicy [theology reconciling God’s goodness and our pain] that made sense, such dispassionate philosophical explanations leave us empty when we walk in the fire and ashes of genuine suffering. While there is a time to carefully dissect these philosophical problems, that time is not normally with those who are suffering” (ch. 2).

“Claims to provide the reason for a specific experience of suffering abound: divine discipline, for the purpose of church renewal, to bring a watching nurse or neighbor to salvation, or to foster personal humility. Unfortunately, all these claims are made without the true knowledge of exactly why something is happening. Even if these suggestions contain an element of truth, we are not in a position to unpack the mind of God regarding such mysteries… Such explanations assume that some good outcome can nullify or justify the pain, but this is not so. A tragedy is still a tragedy; pain is still pain, even if some insight is gained in the process” (ch. 2).

“Each person is coming from a different circumstance, with specific challenges and needs, with individual strengths and temptations. Part of loving well is figuring out what response is needed and appropriate in a given circumstance (see Jude 22-23). This is where theological instincts and pastoral wisdom come together. To be pastoral does not mean earning money for working in a church… Pastoral in this sense refers to the ability to give wise counsel, to know how to love well, provide necessary guidance, and in the end to help a fellow believer flourish under God’s grace and love” (ch. 2).

Even as our hearts can be prone to question, filled with dread and doubt, let us take confidence that our God personally understands us, not hypothetically but concretely in Christ. Jesus wept tears, for in and through his incarnate life he had fully entered into the drama of fallen human experience. His ache and struggle give new meaning to our tears and suffering: God cares about our sin and distress so much that he enters into it himself” (ch. 7).

“Living within this story means that we strengthen our weakened sisters and brothers by drawing them to and reminding them of the word, presence, and action of the triune God, becoming avenues of God’s grace and mercy… The Christian life requires not an individual but a people—the people of God. Only together can we believe, hope, and love amid our struggles” (ch. 9).

“Amid such difficult seasons of life, [Martin] Luther understood that the fog of doubt often obscures the believer’s vision: accordingly, the taunts of hell often grow louder during those periods. He recognized this because he lived it himself… He wrote, ‘I almost lost Christ in the waves and blasts of despair and blasphemy against God, but God was moved by the prayers of saints and began to take pity on me and rescued my soul from the lowest hell.’ Luther knew that in times of physical and emotional distress saints often struggle to believe and are afflicted with confused images of God and his work in the world. During such seasons the Christian leans heavily on the faith and prayers of other saints, for by them one is sustained or even ‘rescued’” (ch. 9).

“[Martin Lloyd-Jones and others] counseled their followers to preach to themselves and embrace the good news of Jesus and his kingdom. Still, the weakness of this prescription, taken by itself, is that it is overly individualistic, ignoring our nature as members of a larger body, and thus also inherently unstable when isolated. Lloyd-Jones’s assertion that ‘the main art in the matter of spiritual living is to know how to handle yourself’ ignores the problem that we don’t always know how to handle ourselves, nor can we be trusted to handle ourselves. We need others” (ch. 10).

“Each case has its own distinct shape and needs its own response. But each of them brings its own real trauma. Each person will deal with it differently: some in silence, some in outbursts of rage, some with an athletic commitment to beat the grief, some with a sense of shame, and still others trying to discover a stoic detachment. What those who are trying to help do not always appreciate is that there is real power in simply walking with another person through that particular experience, bearing witness to the real challenges” (ch. 11).

“Witnessing one another’s pain also offers us the ability to find rest… When a friend shares my outrage I am actually quieted; I am allowed to rest, for someone else has taken up the concern. But if their response is ‘That is no big deal,’ and I am sure it actually is a big deal, then my irritation and frustrations grow rather than diminish. What I need is not for someone to tell me everything is okay; I need them to acknowledge that something is wrong—that I am not insane, but a real problem is at hand… The witness doesn’t actually make the pain go away, doesn’t actually fix everything, but I no longer feel isolated” (ch. 11).

“Christians with similar pains may have good things to say to their fellow sufferers. However, often what ends up happening is one person’s suffering trumps another’s, undermining the loss instead of offering true comfort… Why did such well-meaning offerings trigger in me a nasty train of thought? They were only trying to help… What I discovered was that suffering isn’t a contest, and comparing can often leave one person feeling guilty and the other bitter… However, even in our very similar circumstances, we must carry our sufferings to Christ” (ch. 11).

***

At various times I’ve experienced people theologizing, minimizing, avoiding, or giving the “Everything’s gonna be alright” speech. Those are the people I generally want to avoid. I’ve also experienced those who pray for me, ask genuine questions about my wellbeing, and quietly point to God’s loving care even while I express my doubts and fears. They may not be able to fully enter into the valley with me, but they aren’t just shouting at me from the mountaintop. As Kapic concludes chapter 10:

“May we, as the people of God, care for one another in love. May we truly be the body of Christ. May we confess our sins to one another, offering honesty, grace, and transformed lives. Let us love one another in grace and truth. We are sinners. We are under the cross. Here is our hope. May it be so.”

***

Listen to I Will Wait for You (Psalm 130) by Keith and Kristyn Getty.

© 2022 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. Book cover courtesy of Amazon.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Fruitful in Affliction

Most Christians know the basics of Joseph’s story in the second half of Genesis—favored by his father; sold into slavery by his brothers; jailed because of false allegations; and eventually freed and raised to second in command in Egypt. In the years leading up to the famine throughout the land, we learn that Joseph and his wife had two sons.

“Joseph called the name of the firstborn Manasseh. ‘For,’ he said, ‘God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father’s house.’ The name of the second he called Ephraim, ‘For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction’” (Gen. 41:51-52).

It seems that Joseph had a perspective that many of us could learn from. He gave God the glory for the blessings he had received while at the same time recognizing that difficult times are part of God’s purposes for us. We see this reiterated in Genesis 50:20, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.”

Henry David Thoreau wrote, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Somehow, I can’t imagine Joseph ever being called a “desperate man,” even when he was sitting in jail for no good reason. Throughout it all, he remained faithful and obedient to God. “The keeper of the prison put Joseph in charge of all the prisoners… because the Lord was with him. And whatever he did, the Lord made it succeed” (Gen. 39:22-23). It wasn’t just that God worked through Joseph, but that Joseph was consciously dwelling in God’s presence and doing His will.

Often when we face affliction, we may think that God has left us and we just have to wait and hope for His return. But Joseph is a reminder that God is still present and working, and our job is to be faithfully obedient.

We all encounter difficulties and suffering of various kinds as we live in this broken world. We are all literally living in the land of our affliction until Jesus returns to make all things right and to recreate the world in perfection. The question is whether our hardship points us to God or draws us away from Him. Are we bearing fruit in this land or are we drying up just hoping for something to change?

Perhaps we need to remember what God considers fruitful living, since most of us won’t be involved in saving our nation from famine. Fruitfulness is:

• Repenting of sin and pursuing sanctification. “Bear fruit in keeping with repentance” (Matt. 3:8). “The fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life” (Rom. 6:22).
• Speaking words that build others up in faith and love. “The tree is known by its fruit… The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good… I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give an account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matt. 12:33, 35-37).
• Obeying what we know to be true in Scripture. “Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing… By this is My Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be My disciples… If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love… This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:5, 8, 10, 12)
• Pursuing the good works set before us. “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10). “Walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true” (Eph. 5:8-9).

That might look like: raising your children in a Gospel-centered home; working to the best of your ability in your career; trusting God to provide when you have needs; praying for wisdom in trying times; pointing others to Christ as your strength in suffering, etc. As I mentioned in my last post, the fruit of the Spirit looks a little different in each person’s life. Rather than getting discouraged because “I’m not doing anything outstanding,” we should simply ask, “Am I endeavoring, by God’s grace, to do all that I believe God has set before me at this particular time?” God asks nothing more than that.

“Walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col. 1:10).

© 2022 Dawn Rutan text and picture. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

The Sparrow

There’s a hymn that, even though I like it in general, the words can tend to rub me the wrong way. “His Eye Is on the Sparrow,” by Civilla D. Martin, says in part:

“Why should I feel discouraged,
Why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely
And long for Heav’n and home…

“I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.”

I think the reason the song irritates me is that I know how often I (and all Christians) do get discouraged and lonely and frustrated with life in a broken world. Just telling someone “don’t be discouraged” or “don’t worry—be happy” feels like putting a band-aid on a gaping wound. It is true that Jesus said “Fear not,” and “Do not be anxious,” but I would contend that His words were not intended as a command but as a comfort, because He included encouraging words of God’s love and care for us (e.g. Matt. 6:25-34).

The church has a tendency to admonish the weary and wounded rather than comforting and encouraging them. We sing songs that are upbeat and celebratory, and we’ve lost the language of lament. Words like sorrow, tears, weeping, and mourning occur over 300 times in Scripture. Joy and joyful appear about 200 times in the ESV.

As believers we are called to mourn over sin in our own lives and those we love (2 Cor. 12:21). We should experience sorrow because of death and illness (Phil. 2:27). Suffering is normal for those who desire to live godly lives in an ungodly world (1 Pet. 2:19-21). These things should make us long for our eternal home, where “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4). We grieve now while we hold onto the promise of that eternal hope (1 Thess. 4:13).

There may be times when we lose sight of God’s presence and we get unduly disheartened, and we may need to be reminded that His eye is on us at all times. But we should not be so quick to dismiss the experience of suffering. Faith grows through enduring the hard times, not by escaping from them. It is through faithful endurance that we become fruitful messengers of God’s comfort (2 Cor. 1:3-7).

By all means, sing joyful songs when you are happy, but also join in the songs of lament when those are more appropriate. “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15), and thereby bring help and hope to the hurting.

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them fall will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore, you are of more value than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29-31).

© 2021 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Unwanted Blessings

I’ve written before (here) about the frequent use (and misuse) of the word “blessed,” not just among Christians but unbelievers as well. My church is currently working through the beatitudes in Matthew 5, so that has been on my mind. I came across this biblical definition of blessing from Rachel Gilson: “A gift from God; a gift with spiritual meaning and power.” Our problem today is that we automatically associate blessing with health, wealth, relationships, or anything else that makes us feel good. Many Christians have unknowingly adopted a version of the prosperity gospel, but the beatitudes point us in a different direction. What if we rephrased them this way:

“God has gifted the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

God has gifted those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

God has gifted the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

God has gifted those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.

God has gifted the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

God has gifted the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

God has gifted the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

God has gifted those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

God has gifted you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on My account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

What blessings has God bestowed upon us that we don’t recognize because they are painful and unwanted? Or to put it another way, what events or circumstances have spiritual meaning and power in our lives even if they are difficult and unwelcome? Losses can be blessings in disguise because they force us to look to God. The loss of a job makes us notice God’s provision for us. The loss of health makes us rely on God’s strength. The loss of a loved one makes us long for eternal life with Him. Loss of comfort and security makes us look to God for our comfort.

The things that we tend to call blessings are usually things that make us comfortable and content in this life we have now. But God’s blessings are intended to remind us that this broken and sinful world is not our final home and we have work to be doing while we are still here.

“Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love Him” (James 1:12).

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:11-13).

What blessings from God have equipped us to do His work in this world? Have we grown in compassion because of our suffering? Have we grown in holiness as we’ve faced the consequences of sin? Do we desire to share the gospel with others because we know this world can never really satisfy anyone?

Let’s take time to thank God for His blessings—both wanted and unwanted.

“And behold, I [Jesus] am coming soon. Blessed is the one who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book” (Rev. 22:7).

© 2021 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.