a truth that God has shown me
Undoubtedly, I have doubted the existence of God my entire life. I am a human, living a life in weak flesh and I every time I have believed the world's lie that I should be able to fully understand anything I am willing to place my trust in, I have lost my trust in God. I have a terrible memory, but I do remember at the peak of my rebellion in high school claiming to be an atheist, denying altogether the existence of God. Whether this was from my heart at the time or just from my desire to be accepted, I don't recall.
What I do I know is that God is real, so real that it hurts. And I wonder why we don't talk about the hurt, the real, deep pain, that much. This is a false wonder, because I can immediately think of some answers. For me, I knew that I was "supposed" to be experience joy in Christ. So if I wasn't, if I was depressed and weary, I jumped to the conclusion that I must not be in Christ. Also, maybe we don't want to scare unbelievers. When I look at my life and the pain that I experience, to an unbeliever, it probably looks worse, not better, than their own. But the difference is that the pain I experience is towards an everlasting joy and purity. The pain of this world for the unbeliever is toward more and more pain.
So maybe airing out the dirty laundry that sanctification, or become more like Jesus Christ, is, yes, joyous, but also a painful process (the mortification before the vivification), isn't the best evangelical tool. But for those in the body, I think it's an important point all too often left out of Sunday morning and Wednesday evening. Because lately, when my doubts begin to rise, Satan immediately points my thoughts to the pain in my life. And what he convinces me of makes sense. Why do I hurt so much if God is so good and worthy to be praised? Yes, it's the forever incomprehensible puzzle of a good God that allows suffering in the world.
We can answer this puzzle with God's word. God works all things for the good of those who love Him! (Romans 8:28) But there's a caveat, another word from God: His ways are far above our ways (Isaiah 55:9). So there no promise that we will understand how suffering is for the good of those who love God. But here comes faith, given to us by the grace of God, to believe that His Word is true and good.
So, as believers, we need not run from talk of suffering. We don't have to deny that sometimes running as hard as you can after Christ hurts. And shouldn't it hurt? We are called to die to ourselves. Die to everything that we have grown up believing is true about ourselves and the world around us, and to allow Christ to live in place of that. We are called to forget our crazy ideas about what will solve our problems and how we can live a flourishing life. Because outside of Christ living through us, we will always be disappointed. And we can know this, know that once we die to ourselves there is only joy awaiting us. But everything that surrounds us, in our music, our movies, television, conversations, newspapers, books, is shouting above the truth written on our hearts. It is not easy. It is not easy to kill all the voices and ideas and replace them with the truth. In fact, it's impossible. This is why we have the option of surrendering all this to the Lord. Praise Him!
We are now in the world, living in the flesh, but we have the Spirit in us as believers. As the Spirit works out all of our junk, we might feel like we are being ripped apart from the inside out. I have felt this way so much this year. As I've started digging through all the sick, worldly ideas I have about myself and my life, I have cried for hours, I have desired nothing more than for the pain to stop, I have wanted to take it way, by renouncing my faith, by denying God and then not needing this sanctification, by driving off a bridge, or just into a cement barrier, by drinking myself into a stupor, by visiting some of my friends who I know would let me smoke their pot, free of charge. But there is another Word from God that is also true. "We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed" (2 Corinthians 4:7-10).
And there is our hope, in Jesus Christ. The depression a believer experiences is limited by our faith in a truly good God. This is expressed over and over in God's word. Yes, there is pain, real, torturous, burning, physical and emotional hurt. David cries out to the Lord, how long? "I am weary with my sighing; Every night I make my bed swim, I dissolve my couch with my tears" (Psalm 6:6). But if we read on, David speaks the truth that the Lord hears our supplications, and this is his hope, and how he endures.
Habakkuk kicks off the same way. "How long, O Lord, will I call for help, and you will not hear?" (Habakkuk 1:1). But by the end of chapter three, he expresses the verses that have written themselves on my heart, that I turn to when I'm making my own bed swim, even when the pain in my heart immobilizes me.
Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls
YET I will exult in the Lord
I will REJOICE in the God of my salvation.
The Lord God is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds' feet,
And makes me walk on my high places.
Like the hind, or dear, that scales the most difficult mountains without slipping, so does our faith in God allow us to conquer these seemingly impossible mountains and landslides.
So we do talk about this all the time in church, in Bible study, in our daily lives, because it is in the Word. We talk about our joy in Christ. But I just wish someone had, just for a second, emphasized to me what I quoted from 2 Corinthians. We will be afflicted, perplexed, persecuted and struck down, and it is okay to feel these ways, and we don't have to reject these feelings and hide them away from others. Rather, it is unbelievably important to confess these feelings to God, to your community of believers and to yourself. Because when these feelings start to cover our minds and our hearts with a seemingly impenetrable darkness, we forget the joy that awaits us. Because, the truth is, the darkness of this world has no power in the light of God's eternal truth.
What I do I know is that God is real, so real that it hurts. And I wonder why we don't talk about the hurt, the real, deep pain, that much. This is a false wonder, because I can immediately think of some answers. For me, I knew that I was "supposed" to be experience joy in Christ. So if I wasn't, if I was depressed and weary, I jumped to the conclusion that I must not be in Christ. Also, maybe we don't want to scare unbelievers. When I look at my life and the pain that I experience, to an unbeliever, it probably looks worse, not better, than their own. But the difference is that the pain I experience is towards an everlasting joy and purity. The pain of this world for the unbeliever is toward more and more pain.
So maybe airing out the dirty laundry that sanctification, or become more like Jesus Christ, is, yes, joyous, but also a painful process (the mortification before the vivification), isn't the best evangelical tool. But for those in the body, I think it's an important point all too often left out of Sunday morning and Wednesday evening. Because lately, when my doubts begin to rise, Satan immediately points my thoughts to the pain in my life. And what he convinces me of makes sense. Why do I hurt so much if God is so good and worthy to be praised? Yes, it's the forever incomprehensible puzzle of a good God that allows suffering in the world.
We can answer this puzzle with God's word. God works all things for the good of those who love Him! (Romans 8:28) But there's a caveat, another word from God: His ways are far above our ways (Isaiah 55:9). So there no promise that we will understand how suffering is for the good of those who love God. But here comes faith, given to us by the grace of God, to believe that His Word is true and good.
So, as believers, we need not run from talk of suffering. We don't have to deny that sometimes running as hard as you can after Christ hurts. And shouldn't it hurt? We are called to die to ourselves. Die to everything that we have grown up believing is true about ourselves and the world around us, and to allow Christ to live in place of that. We are called to forget our crazy ideas about what will solve our problems and how we can live a flourishing life. Because outside of Christ living through us, we will always be disappointed. And we can know this, know that once we die to ourselves there is only joy awaiting us. But everything that surrounds us, in our music, our movies, television, conversations, newspapers, books, is shouting above the truth written on our hearts. It is not easy. It is not easy to kill all the voices and ideas and replace them with the truth. In fact, it's impossible. This is why we have the option of surrendering all this to the Lord. Praise Him!
We are now in the world, living in the flesh, but we have the Spirit in us as believers. As the Spirit works out all of our junk, we might feel like we are being ripped apart from the inside out. I have felt this way so much this year. As I've started digging through all the sick, worldly ideas I have about myself and my life, I have cried for hours, I have desired nothing more than for the pain to stop, I have wanted to take it way, by renouncing my faith, by denying God and then not needing this sanctification, by driving off a bridge, or just into a cement barrier, by drinking myself into a stupor, by visiting some of my friends who I know would let me smoke their pot, free of charge. But there is another Word from God that is also true. "We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed" (2 Corinthians 4:7-10).
And there is our hope, in Jesus Christ. The depression a believer experiences is limited by our faith in a truly good God. This is expressed over and over in God's word. Yes, there is pain, real, torturous, burning, physical and emotional hurt. David cries out to the Lord, how long? "I am weary with my sighing; Every night I make my bed swim, I dissolve my couch with my tears" (Psalm 6:6). But if we read on, David speaks the truth that the Lord hears our supplications, and this is his hope, and how he endures.
Habakkuk kicks off the same way. "How long, O Lord, will I call for help, and you will not hear?" (Habakkuk 1:1). But by the end of chapter three, he expresses the verses that have written themselves on my heart, that I turn to when I'm making my own bed swim, even when the pain in my heart immobilizes me.
Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls
YET I will exult in the Lord
I will REJOICE in the God of my salvation.
The Lord God is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds' feet,
And makes me walk on my high places.
Like the hind, or dear, that scales the most difficult mountains without slipping, so does our faith in God allow us to conquer these seemingly impossible mountains and landslides.
So we do talk about this all the time in church, in Bible study, in our daily lives, because it is in the Word. We talk about our joy in Christ. But I just wish someone had, just for a second, emphasized to me what I quoted from 2 Corinthians. We will be afflicted, perplexed, persecuted and struck down, and it is okay to feel these ways, and we don't have to reject these feelings and hide them away from others. Rather, it is unbelievably important to confess these feelings to God, to your community of believers and to yourself. Because when these feelings start to cover our minds and our hearts with a seemingly impenetrable darkness, we forget the joy that awaits us. Because, the truth is, the darkness of this world has no power in the light of God's eternal truth.