The God who serves us

This morning.

Little waves of suffering crashing in, one after the other.
Sick daughters.
The little girl who wakes up too early and is cranky and tired still. 
The demanding preschooler who cannot wait one more minute for her oatmeal to be ready.
Crying children--who feel like my own personal mini- tyrants-- melting down after every. little. thing.  (It is only 7:57 am, people!)

Swollen joints and aching muscles. It has been like this all week--flare after flare.
Exhaustion. Sleeplessness after days of caring for sick little ones. Pain.

And then the slightly bigger waves of temptation.
Tempted...
...To be bitter at my girls for not appreciating what I do for them, for not knowing how to wait, for crying after every bite of food, making it difficult to know what is even wrong or how I can help.
...To Anger. Impatience.
...To be irritated at my (wonderful) husband for continuing to get ready to go to work and not dropping everything to stay home from work with me (because no one said bitterness is rational).
...To be jealous that my husband gets to leave to go to work and not hear the crying and the whining.
...And sadly, tempted to be bitter even at my God.
The cry threatens to rise deep within me: "Do you not care? Do you not see? Is my day hidden from you?"

Another voice counteracts. God is the God who sees (Gen. 16: 13). My way is not hidden from the Lord (Is. 40: 27). He is the everlasting God, who does not grow faint, but rather gives power to the faint... like me.

But both those voices fight inside me. I know what is true. Yet I want to hold on to my bitterness. I want to have a right to self pity. I want to have a reason to demand something.

Ultimately, the question that is in my heart is, "Who cares for me as I care for my family? Who gives me what I need?"

Have you felt that way? Have similar voices competed in your heart? You don't have to be a biological mom to experience this. If you are investing in others-- mentoring, discipling, care taking for the elderly or for a dear one with disabilities--do you ever wonder? Who takes care of my needs? Who encourages my heart? Who pampers me?!

Mark 10:43-45 teaches us a sweet and powerful truth:

"Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

So you and I can cling to this: Christ is serving us so we can serve our families or those in our care. These verses are not mainly a call for us to serve. They are not primarily there to show us the example of Christ as a servant so we are motivated to serve. They are there to remind us the power that is ours as we seek to serve. By dying on the cross for us and forgiving us our sins, by rising up from the dead into new life and giving us new life in Him, by constantly praying for us before our Father, Jesus is always serving us so we can obey and lay down our lives so others can live. I love how John Piper puts it:

"Here is a general truth to ponder and believe: every time Jesus commands something for us to do, it is his way of telling us how he wants to serve us. Let me say it another way: the path of obedience is the place where Christ meets us as our servant to carry our burdens and give us his power."(The Dawning of Indestructible Joy, p. 56)

Christ, serving us?! Maybe you too like Peter want to say, "Lord, YOU wash my feet??" Who are we that Christ would serve US?  We are not worthy that the King of Glory would wash our feet. But He has loved his own to the end (John 13: 1). He washed us with His blood for the forgiveness of our sins and took all our sins away. He is daily washing our feet, forgiving us. We can give life to others, in the midst of difficult circumstances, because He is breathing His life into us, and giving us His strength.

By His grace, we don't have to be bitter or anger or jealous. Who cares for us? Jesus, the King of Glory, meet us as our servant to carry all our burdens: our daily fight against temptation and sin, the painful joints and muscles, the complaining/demanding of young children, the continuous giving of our time for those we disciple, the loneliness that caregiving sometimes entails, the giving without getting much back in return. He has carried each of these griefs and sorrows (Isaiah 53:4), including the daily difficulties that threaten our joy. Friend, this is how your Jesus wants to serve you: by being your all sufficient God and by being the One who empowers your daily dying, which is ironically, your life-giving work.

 

And He may, like he did for me today, in the midst of this fight for faith and joy, serve you by providing a sister who being His hands and feet text you and say, "I'll watch the girls next week from 9-12. Pick the day." And you will remember--it truly is grace upon grace upon grace.

My story--part 2: The lesser waves in my daily life

On my last post, I shared the first part of my story and how the Lord is using motherhood to sharpen my theology of suffering. Today I want to share about the smaller waves that God sends daily to throw me on the Rock of Ages.

In my life, daily kind of suffering manifests itself in different ways. I experience physical weakness regularly. Little by little I have learned to manage my symptoms, but I still deal with swollen joints, painful muscles,  and exhaustion (though I am also a mom to two girls who 3 and 1, so I think being tired is just part of our job description!).

Recently I have figured out that I have an autoimmune condition (still trying to get to the bottom of this). I have had to limit my food intake to figure out what foods I am sensitive to that may be irritating my autoimmune system. The list of foods I am sensitive to has grown a lot. Feeding myself sometimes feels like such a feat since most of the food I tolerate has to be cooked from scratch.

Not only can it be frustrating to spend so much time in the kitchen each day, but the Lord has also taken away a lot of the options for comfort food. I have had to give up my beloved chocolate almost in its entirety, coffee, and all kinds of ice cream. This would be a topic to write about all on its own.

Sometimes the things that are hard for us have to do with our past experiences and expectations we might have.  As you probably know, I left my home in the DR to marry my husband. In the DR you grow up and spend all your life in the same place. Not only are you close to your parents and siblings but also aunts and uncles and cousins. You get to enjoy family constantly and the proverbial village is involved in raising your family. My whole family is still in the D.R. God has been very kind to me in giving me a sense of rootedness with my husband and in the church He has planted us in. But especially now with our girls being the age they are I so miss having grandparents and aunts living close by (my husband’s family lives about 6 hours away). I sometimes find myself daydreaming what it would be like to be able to call my mom or sister and say, “I had a rough night. Could I drop the girls off??” knowing they would jump at such a chance of taking care of them! There have been quite a few mornings when as my husband leaves to go to work, tears roll off my cheeks because I don’t want to be left alone taking care of our sweet daughters all day, especially those days when my symptoms are flared up.

It also is extremely common in the D.R. to have hired help more than once a week. Living in the States now, where such a thing would be a luxury, it has at times been hard to readjust to the idea of homemaking and how all of the responsibility falls mainly on me (even though my husband is wonderfully helpful). Of course I am more used to it now, but it has been a process!

Are these unbearable kinds of suffering? Not really. The Lord has made me glad where my portion has fallen. I am tenderly loved by a man that loves Christ and His kingdom deeply. Our church has been a means of showing us the love and kindness of Jesus and has become in many ways home for our family. Community life is wonderful and we really experience rich one anothering in sweet ways.

But through these circumstances, the Lord is reorienting my longings and the source of my joy. He has shown me that Jesus is enough when comfort food is not an option. He often reminds of me a Wedding Feast I am looking forward to where Christ himself will serve me an scrumptious meal that will lead me to worship Him and enjoy HIM forever! (Can hardly wait!) He is also making me increasingly aware that He alone is my hope, as I navigate food sensitivities. How quickly I want to put my hope for health in my hands or food I eat. Even as I seek to be a good steward of my body and health, I can not control the outcome. My day to day is in the Lord's hands--I can limit what foods I have but He decides how soon I will see effects. He knows the weakness I need  and for how long.

Through my daily trials the Lord has opened my eyes to the privilege of being with Jesus every day as my husband goes to work and I am left “alone.” If he didn’t go to work each morning or if my mom was down the street I wouldn’t get to taste that Christ is truly with me. I often want the comfort of my husband's strong arms and reassuring presence in my day to day. But what I ultimately truly need and really long for is the real, abiding presence of Jesus "in whom [and with whom] I actually live and move and have my being" (Acts 17: 28).

As I deal with physical pain and fatigue, our Lord has been teaching me to embrace weakness. I couldn’t believe the title of a book by J.I. Packer, “Weakness is the Way: Life with Christ our Strength." Weakness IS the way. Because of our union with Christ, it is His power which powerfully works in us. Christ's strength is irrevocably our own. What an astounding truth and what a comfort to this heart of mine. There is no need for me to be ashamed of my weaknesses and the limitations God has given me in skill and circumstances. If I had all the energy in the world, if homemaking came naturally to me and I had all the help I wish at my fingertips, I wouldn’t know what it means to boast in my weakness so the power of Christ rests in me. But as it is, I am blessed because “my strength is in [the Lord]” (Psalm 84: 5). 

The Lord parents us as we are parenting our children. Think about a moment when you looked at your child and you felt like your heart would explode with love. You were in awe that this precious son or daughter was yours. Can you believe that God has this kind of delight in you? Prov. 3: 12 says He does! And because He loves us with such fierce love He faithfully allows whiny and complaining children, messy toddlers, sick children, teething babies, busy schedules, late night conversations with our teens, sleep deprivation, food sensitivities, and chronic pain to gently train us.

Now, I would love to hear from you. What are the smaller waves in your life? What is God using to make you despair of your strength? What verses feed your hope in Jesus as you go through your day? Maybe you are not married and have no children of your own, but you are discipling younger women, and bearing spiritual children in the Lord. How are you experiencing weakness? And in that, how is Christ giving you His strength?

My story, part 1--The wave of post partum depression

On my last post I said that over the next few posts I will share truths the Lord has been teaching me about suffering in motherhood. Before I expound on those truths more specifically, I want to tell of God's dealings with me and how he has sharpened what I functionally believe about Him, His world and His Word.

When I first became a mom, I was really thankful for how easy the transition was. My little girl was not high maintenance, she soon started sleeping longer stretches through the night and my husband was super helpful with her. During the first month the evenings were harder emotionally but the Lord helped through that time and soon we found ourselves really enjoying parenthood. It was such a joy. I had wanted to be a mom for a long time. I couldn’t believe I was finally one.

When my daughter Maia was about 5 months the Lord allowed a deep season of trial in motherhood. Many factors came together that caused a perfect storm. My body started to reset hormone-wise. I also got an infection and had to go through two rounds of antibiotics. This in turn affected my milk supply, and I had to start supplementing and eventually weaning my baby girl. I didn’t know then that weaning can mess with your hormones. I was exhausted from not sleeping well for weeks. On top of that, a dear friend of mine suffered the loss of her son, who was 7 weeks old and I walked very closely with her during those first months. I felt very vulnerable as I stared at the brokenness of this world.

I have always had to fight fear, so at first I didn’t realize just how fearful I had grown since having Maia. I had never been given a gift such as hers. She seemed so vulnerable to me. As her 5 month mark approached, I realized that more and more fearful thoughts were knocking at my door and I had let them come in and stay a while. Fear has an urgency to it. It very loudly demands your attention. I felt like I (or my baby) was constantly in danger. A part of me knew those fears were irrational, but they seemed to speak so truthfully. I let fear define reality for me.

Slowly, life at home with a baby seemed overwhelming to me. I was very tempted to feel I couldn’t cope with the responsibilities the Lord had for me. I started having panic attacks almost every night. There were moments when I felt the ruthlessness of the devil against my soul, taking advantage of my weak and weary body and soul to intensify his attacks. I was tempted to believe many lies: “I am alone, God has forsaken me, sleep is my refuge, I can not do anything more.” I grew increasingly afraid that motherhood would be the end of me, that I just wouldn’t survive it. Fear threatened to paralyze me (though thankful it didn’t quite succeed).

Those were dark months. I remember one night I woke up in the middle of the night, and I could almost literally feel a dark blanket about to engulf me. I had this constant sensation of fear in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't look to the future with hope. I had such irrational thoughts that I feared I was going crazy and wouldn't be able to care for my daughter.

In His grace, my Lord didn’t leave me there. He was so kind and full of tender love toward me. He gave me a husband who held me as I clung to him crying, terrified of what I was capable of imagining myself doing. My sweet man sang truths from God's word to me, prayed with me and for me.

God opened the eyes of my heart to discern where I was listening to lies. He gave me faith to see Jesus fighting for me and lifting up my head (Psalm 3). I often imagined myself hiding behind Jesus my Shield and Defender. Christ breathed hope into me time and time again by providing through my church and extended family--dear counselors who met with me and helped me process what I was going through, sisters who made meals, friends who let me crash their home for the day and who took my daughter so I could sleep. I was able to share my heart with my pastor and his wife and was faithfully shepherded by him.

From despair to hope
During that time, reading Spiritual Depression by Martyn Lloyd Jones, I realized that Christ was ruling the storm that He had allowed on my life.  He wouldn’t let this struggle destroy me. He was in the storm, he was allowing it and whenever He commanded it, it would stop. Instead of fearing I would be overcome by this trial, my prayer then became, “Lord, help me to endure till you bring me out of here.”

The Lord was merciful to help me realize that I was going through a fight against post partum depression, and that there was a huge physical component to my struggle. Understanding why, in part, I was experiencing such a storm was so comforting to me. 

And one day, just like that, the struggle was gone. The Lord lifted up the clouds and gave relief as soon as my hormonal cycle was completely regular. And while a huge wave of thankfulness swept over me, I was left very aware of how vulnerable I am.

I remember going out for coffee one day after the intensity of the trial had waned and telling a good friend of mine, “You know how people say, ‘I didn’t know I was so impatient or so selfish until I had children’? Well, I wasn’t expecting to discover I had such a weak faith.” I just couldn’t believe I had listened to my fears so much, that I had let my feelings rule over my faith. And for weeks, probably even months, I was still afraid. I was letting the weakness of my faith define me. “What if some day I lose my hold on Christ? I made it this time, but what about a next time?”

This is where the Lord spoke to me once again through His word. I was not to have faith in my faith. I hadn’t made it. It was Christ who gripped me throughout that time. His unchanging character and faithfulness was the ground for my hope in future grace. The beauty of my faith is not in the strength of it but in its object.

Christ’s kindness led me to a place where I could see that I truly was weak... but that realization was meant to fuel my joy not my fear. I could rejoice “in hope of the glory of God” (Rom. 5: 2). My security was not that I was able to keep my hold on Jesus but that He would not- indeed, could not- let go of me. Christ’s righteousness is what defines me. His beauty is my beauty. My fixed hope is His commitment to present me blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy (Jude 24-25).

The Lord reminded me I am to boast in my weakness so the power of Christ rests in me. I remember thinking about a phrase I’d heard before, "Parenting is not for the faint of heart” and praying, "Lord, you took a faint-hearted woman and made her a mom. Please help me!" The success of my parenting didn’t rest in the strength of my heart, but in the strength of the One who made me a mom. To paraphrase the editors of Mom Enough, the Lord orchestrated this season of suffering “to build my fearlessness as I found my sufficiency outside of myself (1 Pet. 3:1–6)."

I hope you can see why I kiss the wave that threw me against my Savior. He truly is a firm foundation for the needy, weak soul. What a faithful and gentle Deliverer, Mediator and King we have!

If I were to leave it here my story wouldn’t be quite complete. I mentioned in my last blog post that we need theology not only for the big trials that Christ allows (like a battle against postpartum depression) but also for the daily laying our lives that we do as moms and for the suffering that we experience as part of this fallen world. In my next post I hope to share what are some of the ways I experience that daily kind of suffering and what the Lord has been teaching me through it all.

Learning to Kiss the Wave

Charles Spurgeon said, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” I first read that quote a few years ago as I walked closely with a dear friend who had recently lost her seven week old son--her only son-- to SIDS. I was then a new mom and my new mother’s heart was breaking for my friend. I remember how my eyes welled up as I thought about what this quote meant. I was seeing it lived out in front of my very eyes. My friend, whose heart had been taken out and crushed in a thousand pieces, was loving her Savior more because of her pain. She could say that Jesus was truly enough. She had all the scars from being thrown against the Rock, but had found something so sweet, that she indeed kissed the wave, even if she did so weeping. 

This world is broken. I have experienced its brokenness through motherhood more than anything else. I have felt the brokenness of my body as I deal with hormonal changes caused by pregnancy and as I feel the effects of autoimmune disease. I have seen  the deep brokenness of my own soul and my utter inability to believe and trust apart from Christ as I battled post partum depression. And, in having daughters of my own, have grown intensely sensitive to the suffering that parents experience in this world--miscarriage, infant death, diagnoses of illnesses, death of older children, and terminal illnesses for parents themselves.

But in experiencing both the brokenness of this world and my own brokenness, something precious has happened--Christ has given me more of Himself. He has revealed to me how sufficient He is, how near he is to my weak and weary heart. He has comforted me with the realization of his tender heart towards moms (Is. 40: 11). Jesus has strengthened me as He teaches me how He is my strong helper and deliverer, the one who is serving me so I can serve (Mark 10: 44-45).

Moreover, the Lord has built my hope. Through both daily suffering and more intensified seasons of trials, Jesus is training me. He has been true to His word and has built my endurance. He has pushed me to exercise my spiritual muscles and He has strengthened my faith. Through the suffering I have encountered in motherhood He is making my hope abound in Christ.

In doing all this, the Lord is teaching me to kiss the wave that throws me against Himself. Motherhood has been that wave that brings me to my knees, that knocks out all self-sufficiency and illusions of control and the wave that gives me Jesus, over and over again.

I am learning --and will continue to learn as long as I live- to kiss the wave. I often don’t want to kiss the wave. I am tempted to resent it and be bitter. Other times I am deeply afraid that the wave will kill me, that I will drown and I will lose my faith. But my Savior is the one who commands the wave to throw me against Himself-- He is the Rock on which I land.

Facing brokenness and suffering in motherhood has made me think a lot about how important it is for moms to have a strong theology of suffering both for the harder seasons of motherhood and for those days full of many little hard things that make up a difficult day. Now, motherhood in itself is not suffering; it truly is an incredible gift, an undeserved privilege, a precious, precious calling. It is full of so many blessings. The Scriptures talk about children as a gift from God, an inheritance (Psalm 127: 3). I am so very thankful the Lord made me a mom! My girls are a means of deep joy. I can hardly imagine life without them.

But, as anything good in this fallen world, suffering does come with motherhood. And when I am not equipped with a robust theology of suffering, or when I forget my theology, then it is very hard to embrace motherhood with joy.  We know motherhood can be hard day in and day out but we don’t always think of that hardship as suffering. And yet, when nighttime comes we start dreading the next day when we have to do it all over again, and our hope is shaken.

Do we have a framework within which to think of the frustrations, disappointments, physical weakness, emotional weariness, and exhaustion that come with the territory? We very much need theology for the trials we experience every day with sleepless nights, messy homes, difficult children, our own sinful attitudes and the doldrums of endless repetition of menial tasks when we yearn for something more.

Over the next several articles I want to explore a theology of suffering for motherhood. I learn by writing so my only credential in writing about a theology of suffering for moms is how much I need these truths to face each day in motherhood with joy and courage.

John Piper said, “Wimpy theology makes wimpy women.”1 By framing the topic of this series
as a theology of suffering I don’t want to enable our complaining about how hard it is to be a mom. I am actually hoping for quite the opposite.  I am hoping that by looking at the precious truths of the Word about suffering we will not be wimpy, but courageous!  My prayer is that as Christ strengthens us as moms our homes will be places where the gospel is adorned and in which (and from which) the Kingdom is advanced for His glory.



1-- http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/wimpy-theology-and-true-womanhood

To Zoie on your first birthday

 "I tip toe, hush, hush
Pitter pat goes my heart
Your beauty, your innocence
Joy is found with every kiss...

My sweet, my lovely
My sweet, my lovely

I dreamed of you but I never knew
How sweet and lovely"

(Plumb)

Dearest Zoie,
A year ago you came into our lives. You are loved from before you were  conceived. We really wanted another baby so we prayed and put our desire before the Lord. Very quickly He answered our prayer and started knitting you inside me. My pregnancy with you was different than Maia's because we decided we wouldn't find out gender, and you would be our "surprise" baby. Your birth was such an exciting moment. We couldn't wait to meet you and find out whether you were a boy or a girl.

When you came out and we realized you were a girl, I was thrilled. It was exactly what I wanted--I so wanted another daughter (though we would have loved a boy too!). I had loved having a daughter in Maia, and I looked forward to see how another daughter would be different from her and yet just as delightful and wonderful.

We couldn't have imagined, dear girl, what a sweet love you would be! God has made you so beautiful... and your beauty goes beyond your adorable face. You have such a sweet nature! You are incredibly smiley and easy going. Your eyes are so expressive--overflowing with the joy and inquisitiveness of your character. You adore your big sister. From very early on you love communicating with me, whispering sweetest sounds while nursing. You are very attached to us. When daddy comes home from work your excitement is hard to contain.

These are a few of the things we want to remember about you at this age:

• You have two teeth. 
• You love to blow raspberries. 
• You like to use your pointer to show where you want to go. 
• You are cruising, and are almost walking. 
• You say "dada" and the other day I am pretty sure you said "baba" for "agua" (water in Spanish)
• You blow kisses  
• You love to run/ crawl away from us
• You love to play phone with your hand or anything that you can put on your ear
• You know what socks are and where they go
• You wave good bye
• You love to eat, and eat a lot!!
• You love to dance
• You are getting into everything and are quite persistent when trying to get your way. 
• You like to dance.
• You love to explore our apartment.
• You LOVE  bath time. As soon as we go inside the bathroom and you see the tub with water running, you almost jump off my arms and into the water.
• You imitate us all really well. Whenever any of us make certain sounds, you are really good at copying those sounds. 
• You really like to be part of the conversation when we are sitting around the dinner table. You find a way to participate somehow by imitating one of us or making us laugh.
• You also (like Maia when she was your age) call me "Nana"--what is up with that?!

Oh Zoie, I so look forward to see you grow up-- to hear you talk, to hear your thoughts, to know and love you more deeply. I don't know what the Lord has for our family in the future, but I pray that as you grow up in our family, Jesus would be your treasure and the Pearl of great price that you prize above all things. He is truly altogether lovely and worthy of our whole being, our whole life. I long for Him to give you His beauty.

I am so thankful for you, my sweet, little love. You are so yummy!!
Love you with my whole heart,
Mama

Despite what this looks like, Maia does truly love you! :)

This is my prayer for you

 

Precious girls,

The other day as I rocked Zoie to sleep I found myself praying that she would love to do what is right. For some reason, something about praying for her that way didn't seem quite accurate. Is that really what I want for you both? Part of the reason I struggled with continuing to pray that way is that I grew up wanting to do what is right. And even to this day, I am strongly oriented to do "the right thing" but the reason for this is that in my flesh I have a tendency to treasure my own righteousness too much. I don't want to fail, and I don't want to fall short. In my flesh, my performance means too much to me. Not only I don't want to fail, I can be afraid of failing because I want to admire myself. Sometimes for me "doing" what is right stinks of pride and self reliance.

It is also easy to fall into the mindset that everything about life falls into the categories of right and wrong. But there are many things in life that have nothing to do with right and wrong. Schooling options, pursuing certain work or ministry opportunities or deciding where to live (to name just a few) are areas where we have freedom to weigh in our options and  seek God's wisdom for our specific circumstances. I have at times found myself full of anxious thoughts over decisions that are not necessarily moral--yet when I fall prey to the idol of "needing to make sure I get it right," I don't rest in Christ as I seek his wisdom because I am more worried about failing than pleasing Him. I forget that because I am in Christ I am always accepted before God. So even if I make a decision that is not best, I am still loved and welcomed in my Father's arms.

My little loves, more than praying that you would love to do what is right, my prayer for you is that you would love Someone else's "right-ness." I pray that Christ would redeem you and give you His perfect record and that you would find great joy and rest as you experience His forgiveness and redemption. I pray you would know that even though you are weak and flawed, Christ is strong and perfect, and His strength and His perfection are yours by faith. His righteousness, not ours, is a treasure worth prizing through our lives.

Instead of praying you would love to do the right thing as I rock you to sleep, I want to be like my mom who often rocked me to sleep while singing the truths found in the hymn, Rock of Ages.:

"Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die."

I pray you would rejoice in knowing Christ has dressed you in His righteousness and that shame no longer covers you. I yearn for you to find freedom to glory in your weaknesses, knowing that a rich supply of grace is always in store for you. I do pray that as you treasure the perfect life of Christ, you would grow in holiness. But I pray your holiness grows out of faith as you behold the beauty of our Savior.

How will you know if you love to do what is right for the wrong reasons?
1. If you are uber afraid of failing. Ask yourself, "why am I so afraid of failing? Am I afraid of what others think of me? Am I disturbed by messing up my record?"

2. If it feeds your pride. Look at your heart and consider--- are you comparing yourself with others who haven't chosen the same options that you have? Do you feel superior in any way? Are you more impressed with yourself or with Christ?

Sweet girls, this is my prayer for you--that Jesus' blood and righteousness would be your beauty and treasure throughout your life. Maybe some day you will rock your kids to sleep singing the words of another beautiful hymn: 

"Jesus, thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,
With joy shall I lift up my head.

Bold shall I stand in thy great day;
For who aught to my charge shall lay?
Fully absolved through these I am
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame."

(Words: Nikolaus L. von Zinzendorf, 1739)

"Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen." (Jude 24-25)

I love you both so much,
Your Mama

 

On contractions, suffering and glory

Recently I have been poignantly reminded of the brokenness of this world. I have read stories that have made my mother’s heart tremble and weep. The story about a mom of four young children who is about to die from cancer (and is finishing so well!). Or the one about a father who had already lost a daughter and then died to brain cancer, leaving his wife a widow with two young sons. That precious sister had already lost a baby girl, and has now also lost her husband!

Trials show up in our lives in so many ways: from the tragedy of losing a child to having to cancel our long awaited (and needed!) vacation due to illness; from the child diagnosed with an autoimmune disease to ongoing chronic pain; from relational problems to distance from our loved ones. What do we do with these reminders that this world is not what it should be?

When I was pregnant with my daughters I experienced Braxton Hicks contractions that were preparing me for labor. During active labor, contractions intensified into sharp pain that left me breathless. Those contractions reminded me of Romans 8: 18-23:

    “ For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with
    the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the
    revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly,
    but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from
    its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
    For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of
    childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the
    firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the
    redemption of our bodies.”

As I read this passage, several things struck me. The idea of eager longing and hope is repeated three times. Paul speaks with the certainty of knowing that glory will be revealed. We are hoping for something that we know is coming and not just that we desire.
Yet, it also struck me that even as we know that there is future glory stored for us, we still groan. All of creation is groaning. The certainty of glory doesn’t take away our suffering but it does impact how we groan. We are groaning knowing that our suffering will end, believing that something wonderful beyond belief is coming: we will inherit God!

Life on this side of Eternity is a rhythm of contractions. All forms of suffering are contractions getting us closer to starting our real life, to being fully adopted as sons of God. Each contraction is preparing us for glory. Each loss, pain, death-a contraction; weakness, temptation, sickness--a contraction; disappointment, unanswered prayer, conflict- a contraction. Waves of contraction after contraction, but because we are His each one is preparing for us a glory we cannot fathom.

When Paul says that we have received the Spirit of adoption as sons it applies to both men and women. In Hebrew society sons were the ones with a right to be heirs. But in the new covenant era, if you are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8: 1), you have received the Spirit of adoption as SON and you are heir of God and fellow heir with Christ. Stop for a moment. Please think about this. You, sister, will inherit everything Christ will inherit from God!

Your life is hidden with Christ in God (Col. 3: 4). Being united with Jesus is being united with his life, death, burial and resurrection. Yet suffering is the current experience of our fellowship with him now. It is part of the birth pains that creation is going through now as it waits for the sons of God to be revealed. 

That is why as I thought about the brokenness of this world in the situations mentioned above, I was reminded the believer is actually being born through suffering. Each form of suffering that the Lord allows into our lives is a contraction that will bring us to life. Even as we are dying in this world, we are being born.

This gives so much hope to our suffering! All suffering we experience in this world has a purpose. It is not wasted. Just as you cannot stop labor when it has started, our suffering is pushing us forward, and it is inevitably, without question or doubt, bringing forth our life.