He Cannot

Do you struggle with the doctrine of the sovereignty of God? If I’m honest, I have to confess that I do. I have often said to myself, especially when I am in pain, “God could have allowed that surgeon to do my operation perfectly, but he didn’t. I don’t understand why, if he could spare his children suffering, he doesn’t. Can you relate?

But then this morning, as I was scrolling through Facebook, I ran across this post, from Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, taken from one of her books:

"My path has been rough; but I have not had one trial which my heavenly Father could, in faithfulness, have spared me. He has dealt with me only in lovingkindness and tender mercy. I have not a doubt now, I shall see hereafter, that all His dealings with me have been for my good."

Susan Huntington, 1791-1823, suffered from lifelong physical afflictions. "In 1817 she lost both of her parents only months apart; in 1819 her husband died when she was eight months pregnant; and in the fall of 1821, two of her children died. In all these afflictions her suffering was intense, and she felt as if her feeble frame could not sustain her. But her merciful Father, who taught her that her strength was made perfect in weakness, upheld her, and she looked to Him as her only portion in life."  (From: Seasons of the Heart: A Year of Devotions from One Generation of Women to Another; Reformation Heritage Books)

As I read that first line, I realized that I have been wrong all along about whether God could or could not spare his children pain and trials. He could not. I don’t mean that He doesn’t have the power, because He certainly does. But He cannot spare us the pain of trials, because He loves us. In His wisdom, He knows exactly what is needed to make us more like Him, and He designs each of our struggles perfectly for our unique personality and soul. I am certain that I would never have fallen to my knees (at least figuratively!) over anything other than a physical trial. He had to cause me to be physically weak, because my physical strength was what I was trusting in. He knew I would not give that up if He did not provide for it to be removed, and so He graciously did.

As I type this, there are three dear saints in my church who are battling cancer, and many who are struggling with chronic pain. Tomorrow evening, I will attend a memorial service for a dear brother who went home to be with the Lord at thirty years of age, leaving a young wife and three little children. We begged the Lord to heal him, because we know that He was able to do it. But He could not. He could not heal that young man, because He loved him and his family.  Out of love for them, He has graciously given them this unique opportunity to trust and rely on Him, and to glorify Him in their response. I do not understand it, but I am content with the truth that, while He is able, sometimes, he cannot.

We are weak and frail, my sisters, but the good news is that our weakness, our frailty, and our dependence on God bring glory to Him. Isaiah 43:7 teaches us that we were created for the purpose of glorifying God. In His mercy, he arranges everything in our lives to allow us to fulfill that purpose. How could He take that opportunity from us? It would be cruel to create us for His glory, and then, by keeping our lives smoothe and easy, deny us the opportunity to fulfill that purpose!

Let’s begin today to look at our trials as opportunities to glorify God. I keep the following question handy at all times in the back of my mind, and when trials come, I pull it out and ask myself:

“I was created to glorify God. How am I doing right now?”

This helps me to reel in my perspective back to biblical truth, and it renews my determination to change my default response. I don’t always succeed, but I do have victory more than I used to, and that is what progressive sanctification is all about!

His Eye Is On the Sparrow

I overheard a conversation the other day between two people who were discussing the number of mutual friends who had died recently. They were talking about the rise of cancer among their acquaintances; a number of accidents; and one who had died of “old age.” But the comment that stood out to me the most was when one of them said, “Yeah, it seems they’re dropping like flies these days.” Now, this is an old expression I’ve heard many times, that simply means there are a lot of people becoming ill or dying, all at the same time. But the phrase struck me in a peculiar way this time, because I happen to know a number of people suffering with late-stage disease, and I’ve seen firsthand how they suffer. Flies seem a poor comparison for the precious people in this condition.

If I were to speak of my beloved friends dying, I think maybe I would say they’re dropping like sparrows:

What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.—Matthew 10:28-31

No matter how many people pass on from this earth, they are all precious in the Lord’s sight. Jesus died so that not a single person should perish apart from him, but that all would have eternal life (2 Peter 3:9). When a dear brother or sister passes from this earth, I am sometimes envious of their new home. It causes me to think of heaven, of Christ, and of eternity.

When we suffer, not knowing how long we will have to endure, we do dream of heaven, and long for home. It is such a comfort to know that the Lord knows every moment of pain we experience, and will not allow it to go on one moment longer than it has to. This precious passage about the sparrows is a great encouragement to me as I watch several friends endure “terminal” illnesses. If the death of even a sparrow is known to God, imagine how He attends when one of His precious image-bearers suffers and dies. What a great and loving Father we have!

I Am Persuaded

Sometimes, I think that I’ve already written everything I can possibly write about living with pain. The Lord has always brought things to mind, as I’ve struggled with my condition, and then graciously given me the words to make my experience meaningful for you. But lately, I seem to be running out of things to say. Maybe it’s because I’ve achieved victory in the struggle, but I seriously doubt that, being human and all. Maybe it’s because, honestly, I’m just not thinking about it that much anymore. It’s become such a part of my life that my moments of self-pity or sadness over it are fewer and farther between because I am so used to it. No amount of pain surprises me, and no return of pain that had subsided catches me off guard. These days, when I experience pain, my response is usually, “Oh, Lord I hurt. Please help me to do what I need to do today anyway.”

As I look over that first paragraph, I’m amazed that it was written by the same person who used to be paralyzed with fear whenever a new or unfamiliar pain cropped up. I am not exaggerating when I say paralyzed. I remember when I first injured my ankle while trying to rehab my twisted knee replacement. (Before I knew that the knee was misaligned, I had pushed hard to get it straight, and ended up tearing a tendon in my ankle.) As I experienced this new pain, I was terrified that my mobility would be further limited, I would need additional surgery, and I would suffer even more than I already was. I remember that initial pain plunging me into a deep depression, fueled by anxiety and self-pity, as I Googled my symptoms and panicked for days.

So, what changed? Did my condition become less painful? Did I develop a better tolerance for pain? Did the therapies and other modalities I’ve tried over the years for pain management make such a big difference that my pain is more manageable now? Well, to a degree, some of those things are true. But none of them made the difference in my response to pain that I’ve written about here. What has really changed is my heart. Our tagline at Reigning Grace Counseling Center is, “Heart Change for Life Change,” and my own experience reflects that perfectly. My life of anxiety, self-pity, and depression seemed hard wired until the grace of God changed my heart. When that happened, my life began to change.

I say the grace of God—not His mercy or faithfulness or love, though those have definitely played a part—because God’s grace was able to accomplish the two things that I needed before I could have true heart and life change. His grace provided the forgiveness I needed for my sinful attitude, and it also provided the power I needed to overcome that pattern of sin.

The first step in overcoming any sinful habit, whether it is an action or a thought, is confession. If we truly want to be rid of sin, we must confess it to God. First John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” So, confession is the first and most important thing. God’s grace is what draws us near to Him when our sinful hearts want to run away. God’s grace assures us that our faithful and just God will forgive us when we humble ourselves to confess, and to ask for that forgiveness; and God’s grace is what brings us the heart peace of knowing for sure that our sins are forgiven.

As we walk away from that confession and restoration of peace, we walk into what can be the daunting task of heart change. Once we have assurance that we have been forgiven, we must draw on that same grace of God for the power to resist falling back into the same sin. Romans 5:20 says, “…where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” This shows us that sin and grace are inextricably bound, albeit in a mysterious way, to bring us to eternal life in Christ. So, when we confess our sin by God’s grace, that same grace empowers us to live a life that is pleasing to God. Without grace there is no forgiveness, and without grace, there is no power.

Here are just a few examples from Scripture that show us the connection between God’s grace and His power:

In the early church, the apostles spoke of Christ with great boldness, even in the face of persecution and the threat of death. How did they do this? They were empowered by God’s grace:

And with great power the apostles gave witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And great grace was upon them all.  (Acts 4:33, NKJ)

The word of God spread, and God’s grace empowered Stephen:

And Stephen, full of grace and power, was doing great wonders and signs among the people (Acts 6:8, ESV).

God’s grace empowered Paul, even in the face of a great trial:

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 (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV).    

Paul received the power to minister the Gospel by God’s grace:                                                                                                                                                                

Of this gospel I was made a minister according to the gift of God's grace, which was given me by the working of his power (Ephesians 3:7, ESV).

Have I made my case that our power to resist sin and live with godly heart attitudes comes from God’s grace? I sure hope so, because this is really our only hope of heart change! My hope that I am able to resist sin rests in the fact that I know that God’s grace is real because it was the agent of my forgiveness. If I know I am forgiven (because 1 John 1:9 assures me of that), then I know that I can call on that same grace to empower me to continue to think and live in a way that is pleasing to God.

So, in those moments when you are tempted to repeat that sin for which you have already received forgiveness, remember the grace that provided that forgiveness, and rely on it to empower you to overcome that temptation. There is no temptation that is more powerful than God’s grace, and no sin as satisfying as obedience to Christ and sweet, uninterrupted fellowship with Him. I know that pain brings great temptation, but remember: The power to resist that temptation is already yours. I’ll close with encouragement from Paul, shortly before his martyrdom, to Timothy. 

   For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day (2 Timothy 2:12).

New Every Morning

If you suffer with a chronically painful condition, you are probably familiar with this routine: The alarm goes off, you instinctively begin to move and stretch, but then are stopped short by pain, either in a muscle or a joint, and you are once again reminded of whatever painful condition you are dealing with. Now fully awake, you gingerly move those painful joints and muscles until you can get your feet onto the floor and make your way to the bathroom or the coffee pot, or whatever your first task of the day may be. Once you get moving it’s a little easier, but those first few movements and steps are rough.

Now, this kind of painful daily wake-up call can be looked at in a couple of different ways. When I first began dealing with it, it really got my day off to a bad start. “Here we go,” I would say to myself. “I don’t even get to have one minute’s break from the pain. I have to deal with it from the second I open my eyes. Poor me.” That, obviously, is not the biblical response. I knew that it needed to change, so I began to search the Scriptures for something that would address this exact issue for me. It needed to be specific to the morning, and it needed to be full of hope.

God is faithful, and He led me to Lamentations 3:21-23.

This I recall to my mind,

Therefore I have hope.

Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,

Because His compassions fail not.

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.

These are the words of the profit Jeremiah, as he suffered in exile with the people of God. I strongly recommend that you read the books of Jeremiah and Lamentations, if you haven’t done so lately, so that you can understand the depth of the grief that Jeremiah was feeling. Though I am certain that he was suffering some physical pain when he wrote this, the majority of his grief was brought on by the disobedience of the people to God’s Word.  Yet, even though he knew he was writing about a stubborn and rebellious people who were being judged by the great and powerful Creator God, he still writes beautifully about God’s compassion and mercy toward that same rebellious people!

Now, as I think back to my “poor me” wake-up call, I realize that I was just as stubborn and rebellious as the Israelites. I believed that I was entitled to have a few pain free moments—at least long enough to get my mind awake and ready to deal with the pain all day. So, what was I recalling to mind in that moment? My perceived rights, focus on self, and rebellion against God’s plan to make me more like Himself are a few things that come to mind. What should I have been recalling to my mind? God’s mercy, compassion and faithfulness. I needed heart change in this area!

So, what does this process of heart change look like in practical terms? Well, for a while I had Lamentations 3:21-23 on a 3x5 card next to my bed, so I would read it before I fell asleep, and it would be one of the first things I saw in the morning. After a time, my mind had been trained to think of this verse each evening and morning, so it became easier to get my focus off the pain and onto the Lord. Now, when I wake up in the morning, I begin my day with the assurance of this passage, along with a prayer of thanksgiving to God, for giving this rebellious heart new mercies every morning.

Though certain joints are very stiff and painful to move when I first wake up, that pain has a different effect on my heart these days. Now, instead of that pain acting as a cue to self-pity or complaining, it is a cue to remember God’s mercies, and remind myself that the morning stiffness and pain come right alongside the compassion and mercies that God has provided for me to deal with them biblically. First Corinthians 10:13 says that the way of escape from sinful temptation comes with that very temptation! For me, this passage of Scripture is my way of escape from temptation to feel sorry for myself when my alarm goes off each day.

How about you, my suffering friend? Have you thanked God for His faithfulness and mercy lately? If not, I’d like to challenge you to do so tomorrow morning. Tomorrow, when your alarm goes off, or your children wake you up, or the sunrise interrupts your slumber, even if your first movements bring pain, remember that, with the pain, God’s mercies are new. He is faithful, and will provide that escape from self-pity or despair. Great is His faithfulness. Hallelujah! What an awakening! What a Savior!

Responsibly Dependent

Dear Readers,
This is a previously posted article that garnered a good deal of positive response. I hope you will find it encouraging today!

“You’re just going to have to accept it!”

This was the last sentence of a recent conversation I had with myself about the ever-present pain and dysfunction that has become a part of my life. Believe it or not, after 5 years of ups and downs on this yoyo of health issues, I still struggle to accept the fact that, unless God chooses to heal me, I will deal with pain and problems, difficulty and expense related to it, for the rest of my life.

The physical issues have been tough, but the spiritual issues are on a whole other plane of struggle. The physical pain pales in comparison to the emotional and spiritual struggle that has ensued. Wrestling and fighting against my flesh, to trust the God who allowed this, has been the hardest thing I have had to do as a believer. Yet, the Lord has been so patient and so strong, sustaining me through it all. I love Him, and I know that He loves me. But oh, how I long for healing!

I believe that this is a struggle I will have for the rest of my life. I will not give up hoping for improvement, and I will never stop trying new things. I don’t think trying to get better tells the world I haven’t “accepted what God has for me,” as some have suggested. I believe the Lord has given me a brain and discernment, and if He puts something in front of me that could help, I will get wise counsel about it and consider it. But, while I won’t stop trying to get better, I must learn to keep my heart from sinful focus on the pain and the ways that it limits me.

So my question today is, how do I get to the place where I am content and satisfied in Christ, even as I am suffering and working to improve my current circumstances? How do I move on from my mental whining and complaining, and gain peace and whatever measure of happiness a believer in this world can have, while at the same time refusing to give up on healing? I believe the answer can be summed up in one word: Gratitude. As a believer, I’m sure that you are thankful for the many mercies the Lord has shown you in your pain and suffering: medicines that help with pain, a soft bed, comfortable shoes, a dear friend—there are thousands of provisions the Lord has made for you as you have struggled with your health problem.

But I’d like you to consider being thankful for something else. I want you to be thankful for your suffering. Grateful for your pain, your problems, your sickness. If this is the first time you've received this challenge, you might think it is one that is impossible to meet. Be thankful for the thing that has ruined my life? Grateful for the condition that has forever changed me, my family and my future? Can I really thank God for something, and pray that He would take it away, at the same time? Wouldn’t it seem insincere to thank the Lord for my pain, and ask Him to heal it at the same time?

As I pondered this prospect, I discovered that I could indeed be thankful for my pain, even as I begged the Lord to take it from me. How did I do that? By meditating on the mercy of God. Would you believe that I discovered that God was merciful in allowing my suffering? He provided that suffering for a number of purposes, I’m sure, but the one that is most evident to me is the way it has drawn me to Him. As I have gone through these past 5 years of ups and downs, one thing has been constant: The Lord has been with me. Psalm 32:8 promises the Lord’s guidance, and I have not been disappointed. He has led me through many peaks and valleys, and because of that, I have grown to trust Him more. Though attempts to strengthen physical muscles have been futile, I am stronger spiritually than I have ever been in my life.

There have been many days when I felt that I could not go on, yet He was there, urging me along through His Word, even giving me the desire to read it in the first place! I am a better, stronger Christian today because of this thorn in my flesh. And though I have asked Him many more than three times to remove it, His reply is always the same: “My grace is sufficient for you” (2 Corinthians 12:9). So far, that has proven to be a trustworthy promise. By His grace, I am still walking today. By His grace, I have many undeserved comforts in my pain; many human representatives of Christ to encourage me; and a rich history of His faithfulness, just in my own life, just in these past 5 years; not to mention the entire Bible full of evidence and documentation of that same faithfulness.

Because of His mercy, I was afflicted. He knew exactly what it would take to make me the person He wants me to be. So, I will thank Him for this bittersweet provision. Though I would not have chosen this particular affliction, I see now that it has been, and continues to be, the perfect tool for breaking down my pride and my self-reliance. It has humbled me, and I’m sure it will continue to do so. I am not the same person I was before all this happened, and I must tell you today, I’m glad: Glad to know that I am not entitled to perfect health, or even my next breath. Glad to see that it really is true that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, even as He shows me my weakness. As Job 5:17 and 18 so clearly states,

“…blessed is the man whom God corrects,

so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.

For he wounds, but he also bandages;

he strikes, but his hands also heal.

While I don’t believe that my physical pain was directly brought on by my sin or anyone else’s, I do believe the Lord uses it to correct many sinful heart attitudes, and I am thankful for that correction. I have a big, ugly scar from the surgery that was the start of all these physical problems. That scar will be there for the rest of my life. It could be a sad reminder of that fateful, life-changing day. But I choose to let it represent the wound of mercy that my creator granted me, so that I could glorify Him, fulfilling the purpose  for which I was created. By His mercy He has wounded me, and by His mercy He will heal my sinful heart through those wounds.

So, how do I answer that statement at the beginning of this post? Must I accept this affliction? No. Much more than that, I  must embrace it as God’s perfect tool to mold and shape me into the believer He wants me to be. I am far from perfect, but because of His mercy that brought this thorn, I am more like Him than I was before it came. Oh my friend, won’t you consider the mercy and love of God in your physical pain, and begin to thank Him for His work in you? I hope that you will say with me, Hallelujah! What a mercy! What a Savior!

Christ Is My Life?

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. (Philippians 1:21)

I have been pondering this verse lately, rolling around in my mind what it might mean, and what the application might be for those of us who suffer with ongoing physical pain or disability. From our perspective, the second half of this is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, we would gain much if we died. While our loved ones might grieve, we would gain relief from our pain, a return to a fully functional, perfect body, and eternal fellowship with the Lord. What greater gain could there be?

But the first half of the verse is the puzzler. To live is Christ? There are several other verses that speak of Christ being our life. Colossians 3:3-4 says,

For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.

This says that Christ is our life. What does it mean that Christ is our life? Well, it means that He is ruler of our life, and our sustainer. Ideally, it means that He is at the center of our hearts, and that our thoughts, beliefs, and desires are under His command. Our sin nature, our fleshly desires, and our inability to overcome these things are no longer in control of our hearts. Christ is.

Or how about Galatians 2:20:

I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.

This one sheds a little more light on the subject. We live this new life by the faith that He supplies to us, because of His loving sacrifice. Christ has chosen this broken body to dwell in. Because He lives in me, my heart is transformed and new, so I can resist the temptation to complain or dwell on my pain. Clearly, having Christ in me gives me a choice as to how I respond: I can respond according to my old nature, or according to Christ. Not only do I have a choice, but I have the ability to make the right one (1Corinthians 10:13; 2 Corinthians 10:4-5).

Ok, so my life is Christ, and I live it by the faith He supplies. So what? How does this help me with my pain? Well, Colossians 1:27 wraps up the principle here:

To them God willed to make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles: which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

Christ in me is the hope of glory! When I choose to obey the Spirit rather than the flesh, I present the hope of glory to a watching world. When I choose to obey Christ, my hope is built up, and my heart is encouraged, because I know that I’m not capable of doing so in my flesh. This is confirmation for me that He is living in me, working in me, and preparing me for that glorious day when I will meet Him face to face! As I respond rightly to my pain or suffering, I am reassured of the hope that I have, and others who are watching are encouraged, too!

To live is Christ, my dear sisters. Please share in the comments how you are living differently because Christ is in you, and because you are living by faith in Him. Let’s encourage one another!

Come, Weary Saints

My grandma was an amazing lady. I spent a week with her several summers in a row, and it was always a learning experience. She was born and raised in what she called the “hillbilly holler” of southern Missouri. I don’t know a lot about her childhood, but I’m pretty sure she grew up without much in the way of material things, and I got the impression that her life was pretty difficult. She thought nothing of wringing a chicken’s neck or skinning a squirrel (yes, we ate squirrel), and she worked very hard in her garden, and at canning its produce. The coolest thing about my grandma was that she could cut a wasp in half with her sewing scissors, mid-flight! I’m not kidding, I saw her do it more than once.

Grandma was tough. I always admired her strength and endurance, but every now and then, she would sit down beside me on the porch swing and say, “Suzy, I am bone weary.” I didn’t really understand what she meant back then, being nine or ten years old and unfamiliar with such weariness. But, as this life goes on, I hear her voice in my head pretty often, as I now understand what it means to be bone weary. Do you?

We who suffer with chronic pain know at least as well as anyone else what weariness is. Sometimes, we begin the day already weary, from a night of tossing and turning, trying to ease aching joints or the pain of disease. Being weary is different from being tired, though. Sometimes, being tired can mean a day well spent doing the work of life, having a sense of productivity or accomplishment. Weariness, though, has an element of emotion. Weariness is more than tired. It is tired and drained. Tired and worn. Tired and weak. Weariness is spiritual.

There is a beautiful song that I often sing to myself, called Hide Away in the Love of Jesus. Here are a few of the words:

Come, weary saints, though tired and weak

Hide away in the love of Jesus

Your strength will return by His quiet streams

Hide away in the love of Jesus

I love these lyrics! Weary saints don’t get their strength back by sleep or physical rest alone, as much as we do just by being near to Him. While sleep is good and necessary for those who are tired, weary ones need those quiet streams: To get off alone with the Lord, to hide away in His love.

Come, wandering souls, and find your home

Hide away in the love of Jesus

He offers the rest that you yearn to know

Hide away in the love of Jesus

Like it or not, we are prone to wander. When pain is intense and the pressures of life threaten to overwhelm us, we may be tempted to drift from the Lord, disappointed in what seems to be unanswered prayers for relief. This beautiful lyric invites us to return to the Lord, finding our home once again in Him. He knows our yearning for rest, and He wants to satisfy it with His love.

Hear Him calling your name

See the depths of His love

In the wounds of His grace

Hide away

Just as He called you at the moment of your salvation, He is calling you now in your weariness, dear reader. He loves you with an everlasting love, and He calls you His own. Just as my dear grandmother used to call me back home when I had wandered too far down her gravel road, our Lord calls us back to His side, and reminds us once again of the depth of His love, and of the price He paid for our weary soul. So come, hide away in His love, and rest. Your weariness will be turned to worship, and your wandering to rest. Hallelujah! What a Renewer! What a Savior!