Faith is Forged in Crisis

By Jon Bloom

The Bible is a blood-earnest book. It’s a book about reality. And reality, as we know all too well, is often brutal and bloody. The Bible doesn’t sugarcoat this fact at all, but describes reality with disturbing forthrightness. Much of Scripture was written during brutal, bloody times by embattled, distressed, weary, even depressed authors. And at the pinnacle of the Bible’s story, at the core of the Bible’s message, is the Son of God dying a bloody death on a brutal Roman cross.

So, when we open our Bibles, rarely are we going to find a little light reading.

Even in the book of Psalms, this collection of inspired spiritual poetry that has brought immeasurable comfort to an incalculable number of saints across the centuries, we are frequently faced with distressing themes. In numerous psalms, we read writers’ wrestlings over what it means to trust the God they treasure as they witness some brutal and bloody reality, a reality that challenges their understanding or expectations of God’s promises and purposes.

These psalms fit into a category we call psalms of lament. In certain lament psalms, like Psalm 10, we’re reading an inspired author’s faith crisis captured in verse.

Can We Say That to God?

We see this immediately in the opening verse:

Why, O Lord, do you stand far away?
     Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? (Psalm 10:1)

That’s a remarkable thing to say to God. Could a Christian Hedonist actually pray this way?

Why would I ask that question that way? We at Desiring God believe that the Bible teaches an approach to life we call Christian Hedonism. We see in Scripture that a Christian is not someone who assents merely intellectually to core Christian propositional truth claims. A Christian loves God with all his heart (Matthew 22:37), values God as his greatest treasure (Matthew 13:44–46; Philippians 3:7–8; Hebrews 11:24–26), and seeks God as the source of his greatest and longest-lasting pleasure (Psalm 16:11). The triune God of the Bible is to be a Christian’s “exceeding joy” (Psalm 43:4). Summarized in a sentence, Christian Hedonists believe Scripture teaches that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.

We can certainly find lots of Christian Hedonistic prayers in the Psalms, like Psalm 73:25–26,

Whom have I in heaven but you?
     And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
     but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

But what about Psalm 10, where the writer laments his agonizing bewilderment over unjust, greedy, violent acts against innocent, helpless people? He’s not only disturbed by the wicked acts he’s witnessed; he’s disturbed that the wicked are prospering from their wickedness. And God, the righteous Judge, appears to be letting it happen. So, in typical biblical candor, he asks God, “Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” If a person truly loves, trusts, and treasures God above all else, can he pray like that? Can someone who rejoices in God ever lament God’s apparent distance and disregard?

“A faith crisis should not be confused with faith abandonment.”

In short, yes. In fact, Christian Hedonists pray to God this way at certain times because he is our “exceeding joy,” because we treasure him, because we love him. And because sometimes God’s ways and timing are agonizingly difficult to grasp. We see this sorrowful-yet-rejoicing dynamic in the brutal realities of Psalm 10.

Why Did God Feel Far?

First, we need to understand what was troubling this psalmist. He pours out his distress:

• “In arrogance the wicked hotly pursue the poor [because he is] greedy for gain” (Psalm 10:2–3).

• He “curses and renounces the Lord” (even denies God’s existence) (Psalm 10:3–4).

• “His mouth is filled with cursing and deceit and oppression” (Psalm 10:7).

• “In hiding places he murders the innocent” (Psalm 10:8).

• “He seizes the poor when he draws him into his net” (Psalm 10:9).

The poor are being exploited and even slaughtered by someone in a position of power (perhaps more than one) for the sake of financial benefit. The victims are in a “helpless” or defenseless position and so “are crushed, sink down, and fall by [the wicked person’s] might” (Psalm 10:10). These would be unspeakable deeds, except that silence would only compound the injustice of it all. Therefore, like Jeremiah, the psalmist “cannot keep silent” (Jeremiah 4:19).

What Faith Sounds Like in Crisis

The psalmist strives to put the wickedness he sees into words. We can sense his righteous anger. Such horrible oppression and injustice should make him (and us) angry.

“Sooner or later, every Christian experiences a faith crisis — some of us numerous ones.”

But though the psalmist is addressing God with urgent earnestness, I don’t believe his anger is directed toward God. It’s directed toward the wicked who are wreaking such destruction. The psalmist is turning to God with his burning indignation toward evil perpetrators, and his tearful compassion toward victims because his hope is in God to bring justice and deliverance to bear. That’s why he prays.

We too witness, and sometimes are victims of, such wicked injustices. In our day, innocent, defenseless unborn babies are legally murdered, and children as well as vulnerable or entrapped adults are trafficked for sex, all financially profiting those perpetrating the injustices. In the face of such things, we cannot keep silent. First and foremost, before God. Out of compassion for afflicted ones and righteous anger toward perpetrators, we pour out our lamenting hearts to the God in whom we hope (Psalm 43:5) and from whom we receive hope (Psalm 62:5).

Learning to Cry Out in Crisis

But still, those opening lines of the psalm sound like God is the recipient of at least some of the psalmist’s anger:

Why, O Lord, do you stand far away?
     Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? (Psalm 10:1)

If that’s not anger or disillusionment or disappointment, what is it? It’s putting into words the painful perplexity of a crisis of faith.

Now, a faith crisis should not be confused with faith abandonment. Nearly every saint experiences faith crises of different kinds, and typically we must endure faith crises in order for faith to grow and strengthen — more on that in a moment. But the clearest evidence that this psalmist is not forsaking God is the presence of this psalm — the psalmist is praying! And in his prayer, he’s doing with God what all of us do with those we love and cherish deeply who act (or seem not to act) in ways we don’t understand: he’s honestly expressing his confusion and pain.

The psalmist’s soul is troubled that his biblically informed knowledge of God’s character does not seem to match the reality he’s observing. He believes “God is a righteous judge” (Psalm 7:11) who “executes justice” for the helpless and vulnerable (Deuteronomy 10:18). But he’s not seeing justice executed for the helpless and vulnerable. He’s seeing the wicked oppressor of the helpless “prosper at all times” (Psalm 10:5). Why God isn’t immediately stopping this injustice is beyond him. It’s a moment of crisis for him, and he’s telling God so.

I think it wrong, however, to assume that, because the psalmist asks God why he seems distant or hidden, he’s blaming God or scolding God for neglecting his responsibilities. What he’s doing is describing his experience of reality — the way the situation appears to him through his finite senses. And the reason he’s praying this way is precisely because he cares so deeply for God, because he loves and trusts God.

This is a faithful Christian response to a faith crisis. When we are painfully perplexed by the apparent discontinuity between what we know of God from the Scripture and what we observe in the world, when the mystery of God’s providential purposes meets the finiteness of our understanding, and it doesn’t make sense to us, God wants us to cry out to him. He wants us to cry out to him precisely because we love and trust him, even when our experience challenges what we believe.

Forging Christian Hedonists

The fact that the Bible speaks so honestly about reality is part of its self-authenticating quality; unvarnished honesty is one sign of sincerity and truth. And the fact that the Bible features a psalmist’s faith crisis over the problem of evil is part of why the Psalms have comforted so many for so long; we experience such crises too.

Sooner or later, every Christian experiences a faith crisis — some of us numerous ones. But a crisis of faith does not mean a loss of faith. In fact, it is often through faith crises that we learn what faith really is.

“The forging of a Christian Hedonist often occurs in the fires of a faith crisis.”

Scripture is full of accounts of saints enduring many kinds of faith crises, where the God who governs reality, in all its bloody brutality, does not meet the saints’ understanding and expectations, leading those saints to wrestle deeply. The Hebrews 11 “Hall of Faith” is lined with such saints, who through crises learned what it really means to “walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).

I mentioned earlier that Christian Hedonists love to pray Psalm 73:25–26:

Whom have I in heaven but you?
     And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
     but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

What I didn’t mention is that Psalm 73 is another account of a faith crisis, and this prayer is part of the fruit of that crisis. So, when your own crises come, don’t assume your faith, love, and joy are gone, but that God wants to grow them in the furnace of affliction. Because the forging of a Christian Hedonist often occurs in the fires of a faith crisis.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/faith-is-forged-in-crisis

8 Ways Trials Help Us

KATIE FARIS

Catch us off guard? Yes. Expose fear, anxiety, anger, and self-pity? For sure. Bring sorrow and pain? Absolutely. Trials do a lot of things, but what good do they do?  

In his letter to dispersed Jewish Christians, James gives this imperative: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2–3).

These are great memory verses for a Sunday school class—but what about when we lose a job and can’t pay the mortgage? What good do chemotherapy, a NICU stay, a car accident, or persecution for our faith actually accomplish?

What good do chemotherapy, a NICU stay, a car accident, or persecution for our faith actually accomplish?

There’s a reason James unashamedly tells us to count it all joy when we encounter trials like these. He knows that when true faith survives their refining heat, the fruit is sweeter than the cost is painful. Here are eight ways trials help produce steadfastness.

1. Trials deepen our prayer lives.

When overwhelmed, we can pray like Jehoshaphat: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chron. 20:12). In response to devastating news, we weep, fast, and pray as Nehemiah did (Neh. 1:3–4). In the throes of worry, we “let our requests be made known to God” and cast all our “anxieties on him, because he cares for us” (Phil. 4:6; 1 Pet. 5:7). When we lack words to pray, “the Spirit helps us in our weakness,” interceding for us “with groanings too deep for words” (Rom. 8:26). Humble prayer cultivates dependence on God, attacks our pride, and positions us to delight in the Lord who hears and answers in accordance with his wisdom.

2. Trials grow our knowledge of God’s Word and character.

A wilderness season invites us to internalize God’s promises, to learn as the wandering Israelites did that we don’t “live by bread alone” but by “every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” (Deut. 8:3). The psalmist says, “It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes” (Ps. 119:71), and Job confesses, “I had heard of [God] by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5). God often uses suffering to grow our knowledge of his Word and his true character.

3. Trials increase gratitude for our Savior.

When we taste sorrow, it reminds us that Jesus drank the full cup of God’s wrath on our behalf. He prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42), and then he was “wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isa. 53:5).

Humble prayer cultivates dependence on God, attacks our pride, and positions us to delight in God who hears and answers in accordance with his wisdom.

Our pain makes us more aware of Jesus’s pain, increasing our gratitude for the agony he suffered on the cross. We also rejoice because through his sacrifice, our sin is forgiven and our salvation secured. We remember and cry, “Thank you, Jesus, for suffering in our place!”

4. Trials make us more like Jesus.

When Joseph’s brothers intended evil toward him, “God meant it for good,” to keep many people alive in famine (Gen. 50:20). Our redeeming God—who worked out our salvation through Jesus’s painful sacrifice on the cross—continues to work all things, including our trials, for the “good of those who love him” (Rom. 8:28–29). One good thing God does through hardship is make us more like Jesus, who “learned obedience through what he suffered” (Heb. 5:8).

5. Trials equip us to comfort others.

In our trials, God means to comfort us so abundantly that we overflow with compassionate care for others. Paul writes that God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in affliction” (2 Cor. 1:4). It’s God’s intention that we be conduits of his comfort to suffering family, friends, and neighbors. Our experience of trials helps us understand what others might feel and need, and our experience of God’s comfort equips us to come alongside them to pray and serve in a gentle manner.

6. Trials prepare an eternal weight of glory.

Maybe we can’t see what our trials are doing, but they’re working. Each “light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” when we look to what is unseen (2 Cor. 4:17–18). Each car ride to the treatment center. Each pile of paperwork and signed check. Each sleepless night spent caring for sick children. Given to him, it’s all significant in the kingdom of heaven.

7. Trials remind us that earth isn’t our true home.

In loneliness, we yearn for God’s presence. Tears stir our hearts for a place with no “mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Rev. 21:4). Sick bodies wait eagerly for new ones. Death makes us long for resurrection. These trials remind us that earth isn’t our true home. They increase our hunger for heaven.

8. Trials test and strengthen our faith.

Trials prove the genuineness of our faith, which fills our hearts with joyful assurance of salvation and results “in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:7). This strengthening of faith motivates us to “lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and . . . run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, . . . who for the joy set before him endured the cross” (Heb. 12:1–2). 

God Is Doing Something Through Your Trials

Even knowing the good that comes through trials, I doubt we would intentionally choose suffering for ourselves or our loved ones. But God is wiser than we are. His ways are higher than our ways (Isa. 55:9), and he uses trials for both his seen and unseen purposes in our lives.

You may not know what God is doing in a particular trial, but given the many options presented in Scripture, you can know he’s doing something. Given how much he loves you, you can know it’s for your eternal good. That is a reason for great rejoicing.

Katie Faris is married to Scott, and her greatest works in progress are their five children ages 2 to 13. She is the author of Loving My Children: Embracing Biblical Motherhood. She worships at Sovereign Grace Church in Marlton, New Jersey. You can read more of Katie’s words on her website, blog, Instagram, or Facebook.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/8-ways-trials-help-us/

Called to Suffer

Paul Tautges

“In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.

1 Peter 2:21

Suffering is no stranger to followers of Christ. It’s part of our calling, part of our identity. We are sufferers. We were born into a fallen world cursed by God when mankind first sinned in the Garden of Eden (Gen. 3:17). As a result, we groan. We groan because life hurts badly—there are unspeakable sorrows. We groan as we await the final day of redemption when “the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:21). We groan as our hearts ache for the day when Jesus will make all things new (Rev. 21:5). Until then, suffering is guaranteed.

Don’t misunderstand me. The primary identity of each and every Christian is an exalted and victorious one. It is connected to who we are in Christ; that is, our position or standing before God. We are set apart by God (Eph. 1:1); adopted into his family (Eph. 1:5); objects of God’s grace (Eph. 1:6); chosen by the Father, redeemed by the Son, and sealed by the Spirit (Eph. 1:4, 7, 13-14); we are part of God’s eternal plan (Eph. 3:11); and much more. This world is not our home, “For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:20). Positionally, we are already seated in the heavens and possess every spiritual blessing (Eph. 1:2). Make no mistake. The believer’s eternal inheritance is more glorious than we could ever imagine. Still we live in a world filled with pain, anguish, and loss. Suffering is common to all human beings; no one is exempt. However, its expectation is even more sure for Christians, due to our identification with the suffering Savior. Though he now sits at God’s right hand, our victorious, risen and ascended Savior still has his scars. We must never forget that!

More than seven hundred years before Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the prophet Isaiah wrote about the pain and anguish of Messiah, the Suffering Servant, as if it had already taken place. He was “despised and rejected.” He was not “esteemed” as he deserved, but instead was “stricken,” struck down by his own fallen creatures (Isa. 53:3-4). Ultimately, he was “wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” at Calvary (Isa. 53:6). He was “oppressed” and “afflicted” by those whom he came to save (Isa. 53:7). Jesus is the Savior who suffered in the past, but remains understanding and compassionate toward us in our suffering—even now—as every believer’s High Priest (Heb. 4:15). With these realities in mind, let’s think about suffering in three ways.

Suffering is predicted by Jesus.

Jesus himself warns all who follow him: “In the world you will have tribulation,” but he also urges us to “take heart” since he already has “overcome the world” (Jn. 16:33). To believers who were scattered, due to persecution, the apostle Peter wrote, “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps” (1 Pet. 2:21). The specific context of this admonition is suffering for righteousness’ sake; that is, persecution for doing right in the face of evil treatment. However, the same truth also serves as an umbrella principle over all forms of suffering we endure. It’s part of our calling. Yet the suffering we experience is unlike that of Jesus in one very significant way: his suffering atoned for sin; ours could never. Jesus alone is the Lamb of God who can take away the sins of the world (Jn. 1:29). Jesus—and only Jesus—could be the “once for all” sacrifice which was foreshadowed by Old Testament law (Heb. 7:27; 9:12; 1 Pet. 3:18). He alone is the sinless God-man, the one, qualified mediator between God and man (1 Tim. 2:5). He alone is Savior (Acts 4:12). Our suffering can never save us (we could never atone for our own sin), but it can deepen our existing relationship with the One who already suffered in our place.

Suffering draws us closer to Jesus.

In our suffering, we are offered an opportunity to experience a kind of fellowship with Jesus that can be sweeter and deeper than at any other time in our lives. The apostle Paul spoke about this growth principle when he expressed the longing of his heart to know Jesus experientially: “that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death” (Phil. 3:10). Paul knew Christ, and was known by Christ, due to receiving his righteousness by faith at the moment of his conversion. He was confident he had been saved from the wrath to come, but he was not content with his relationship with Jesus. Paul wanted to be walk closer and closer to his Savior, in the fellowship of his sufferings. Fanny Crosby echoed this same longing in 1874, in her hymn Close to Thee.

Close to Thee, close to Thee,
Gladly will I toil and suffer,
Only let me walk with Thee.[1]

Times of suffering typically send us looking for a compassionate, caring friend. Jesus is the Friend of all friends. Pain can bond us to our Savior if we will allow it to do its internal work.

Suffering shifts our heart’s affections.

Suffering always involves some form of loss and, therefore, it naturally loosens our grip on the temporal by forcing our focus onto the eternal. The apostle Paul testifies of this helpful comparison: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18). Without suffering we undoubtedly would think less about the eternal glories of heaven. In addition, physical, mental, and relational pain have the unique power to dethrone idols, and redirect the affections of our heart toward Christ. The anguish we feel exposes the insufficiency of what we hold to most dearly in this life, offering to us the opportunity to repent of disordered worship and renew our vows to Christ. Indeed this is one of the most important redemptive purposes of God in our suffering.

If by faith you have been united to Jesus in his death, burial, and resurrection, you can expect suffering to be a regular part of your life. Painful trials are not punitive for the Christian, since Jesus was already punished in our place. However, because our loving heavenly Father is eager to bless us more and more, he employs suffering to draw us closer and closer through more childlike faith and obedience. For the believer, the fiery blaze of suffering does not destroy. Instead it is a refining fire that carries with it the potential to purify our hearts, increase our love, and sanctify our lives in order to more clearly reflect the humility and love of Christ.

Take a moment to pray. Thank God for the good purposes he has for your suffering. Ask him to give you a teachable heart as you draw near to him.

[1] Fanny J. Crosby, “Close to Thee,” 1874.

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/11/07/called-to-suffer/

Encouragement for Hard Times from Saints of Old

Tim Chester

Let me tell you a story about a pandemic, lockdown and social distancing. Sound familiar? Yet this is a story not from 2020, but from 1665.

That year, the so-called “great plague” broke out in southern England – part of a global pandemic of bubonic plague. At some point a bundle of flea-infested cloth arrived in the village of Eyam in the Derbyshire Dales. The package was opened by a tailor’s assistant called George Viccars. Within days he was dead. Other members of the household fell ill, and the people of Eyam realised they had an outbreak on their hands.

What happened next is an amazing story of courage and self-sacrifice. Three years before, the Rector of Eyam, Thomas Stanley, had lost his ministry during the Great Ejection when around 2,000 Puritan leaders were forced out of the Church of England. The new rector, William Mompesson, remained within the established Church but shared Stanley’s living faith in Christ. Under their combined leadership, the village made the decision to self-isolate. It made sense for people to escape the plague by leaving the village. But that risked spreading the disease to other parts of the north of England. So instead they chose a self-imposed lockdown. No one came into the village and no one left.

To this day there’s a stone on a footpath out of the village with natural indents which, during the plague, were filled with vinegar so villagers could safely leave coins in exchange for supplies. No funerals were held; instead families had to bury their own dead. Church services were held outside so people could practice a seventeenth-century version of social distancing. The plague ran its course over fourteen months. How many people died is disputed, but it’s thought to have been over half the village. The dead included the rector’s own wife, whose grave is still in the churchyard.

Sustained by the truth

COVID-19 has certainly led to strange and challenging times. But, as the story of Eyam reminds us, they are not without precedent. In 1665, the great plague left around 100,000 people dead—a quarter of London’s population. Just as someone can think they’re the centre of the world, so we can think we’re the centre of the ages—as if our challenges are special. But the people of God have faced crises again and again across the centuries. This is one of the great values of church history: the gospel truths that sustained the saints of old are the same truths that will sustain us today.

The writer of Hebrews says,

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith (Heb. 12: 1-2).

The Christian life is a long race, he says, and if we want to make it to the finish line we need to do two things. First, we’re to turn away from distractions, especially the distraction of sin, and “throw off everything that hinders” (v 1). Second, we’re to turn instead to look at and “[fix] our eyes on Jesus” (v 2).

To help fix our gaze on Jesus, we are surrounded by “a great cloud of witnesses” (v 1). For the first readers of Hebrews, these witnesses were the saints of the Old Testament, whose faith in God’s promises had sustained them through troubling times and had enabled them to achieve great things in God’s name. But as readers today, we can add names from across the pages of church history to that crowd of cheering spectators. Two thousand years on, the cloud of witnesses is larger than ever.

The key thing is that such people are “witnesses.” Like the witness in a law court, they have evidence to present and, in this case, their testimony concerns Jesus Christ. Their purpose is not to draw attention to themselves but to him. Their lives may inspire and their words may inform, but their true value is that they point us to Jesus.

The best of Christian writers from across the centuries keep on directing our gaze to Christ and his work. The seventeenth-century Puritans wrote book after book about Christ, perhaps because it was the glory of Christ that sustained them through their hardships. Here, for example, are the Christ-centred words of Puritan William Bridge in his book, Lifting Up for the Downcast:

Be sure that you think of Christ in a right way and manner as he suits your condition and as he is held forth in the gospel … The Scriptures hold forth the person of Christ in ways that make him very amiable to poor sinners. Are you accused by Satan, the world or your own conscience? He is called your Advocate. Are you ignorant? He is called the Prophet. Are you guilty of sin? He is called a Priest and High Priest. Are you afflicted with many enemies, inward and outward? He is called a King, and King of kings. Are you in dire straits? He is called your Way [1].

Our Puritan brothers and sisters in Christ wrestled with God through hard times, and the fruit of their labour can help us through the hard times we face. Sometimes the language and emphases of the past seem strange to us. But this very strangeness is actually a key reason to read old authors. They present familiar truths in a different way—a way that can capture our imaginations anew. Moreover, the strangeness of their world becomes a vantage point from which to view ourselves with a fresh perspective, potentially exposing the strangeness of our own preoccupations and prejudices.

When we listen to heart-warming wisdom from the saintly witnesses of old, we are encouraged to fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

_____

Tim Chester’s new book is An Ocean of Grace: A Journey to Easter with Great Voices from the Past, a collection of devotions and prayers for Lent from writers across church history.

 Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/11/encouragement-from-saints-old/

When Suffering is Long and Hard

By: Sue Nicewander Delaney

My husband’s stroke in 2013 initiated a three-year period of suffering and loss for us. After he died in 2016 and I embarked on an unsettling role as a widow, the following years brought more major hardships that led to despair. How can you help someone whose suffering intensifies, with no endpoint in sight?

General Principles for Counseling

Love well. She has come to you for help because her world is crumbling, but she won’t open up unless she believes you are compassionate and competent—that you won’t judge her for suffering, and that you will steadily point her to hope in Christ.

Listen before speaking. Hear her losses and how they are affecting her life. Recognize that long-term suffering has stages or segments, each of which bears a range of theological questions:

1. Crisis

2. Experiencing the extent and permanence of losses

3. Major adjustments (perhaps including worldview changes)

4. New or additional suffering and grief

      For each stage, evaluate:

• What physical and spiritual challenges does she face? What should you address, and what should you delegate?

• How is she handling the adjustments she must face? What is most difficult for her, and why? Is her major struggle as sinner or as sufferer?

• What does her honesty (or reluctance) to share her heart tell you about her faith? How might you guide her to build faith and endurance in God? This is your most important role.

• Observe negative emotional patterns of anger, fear, or despair. What do her emotions reveal about what she believes she needs most?

• How does she perceive God views her? Is she a believer? Where does she find her identity? How have her changing roles challenged her self-image?

• How does she relate to God in her suffering? To His people?

• What questions is she asking, especially about God?

  • God seldom provides explanations, but answers “Why?” with reasons to trust His character (e.g., Job 38-42). Does she accept this, or does she demand answers? Is she willing to submit to God’s plan if it differs from hers? If not, where does she seek meaning and peace?

  • Listen for foundational questions: Does God love me? and Is God able to help me? (A discussion of the depths and significance of this struggle must be left for another time.) Briefly, the gospel answers both questions:

    1. Christ’s death on the cross proves God’s love, which cannot be earned, but is His free gift (John 3:16; Rom. 5:8, 12; 8:37-39).

    2. The resurrection proves that God is powerful enough to help her (Eph. 1:18-21).

    3. How is she responding to these truths? What hinders her? Resist arguing with her answer; be grateful for her honesty.

    4. Measure your response simply, saturated with prayer, grace, and kindness.

Speak Carefully, Using Scripture

Hear her. Even if you have a similar experience, assume you don’t understand her suffering or her heart. Let her ask hard questions without scolding her. Listen and learn.

Express Christ-like sorrow, acknowledging her painful trial without condemning her human frailty (2 Cor. 12:8-10). Be gentle with her tears, avoid attempts to cheer her up (Prov. 25:20); respect her grief without indulging self-pity.

Avoid platitudes like, “It’s going to be okay.” Accept your inability to fix what is broken. You have a more eternal purpose. Instead, help her learn to walk with God in a fallen world where life is not okay. Point to God as a hearing, caring God, using examples from her story.

Let Scripture move her toward God. Look together at a short passage or biblical example that reveals God’s heart and perspective toward one of her pressing questions. Ask her how the Word lands on her today. Gradually compile those passages into a list of helpful statements tailored to her questions and struggles. Ask her to read the list every morning and every evening. For example, “God is with you. You are not alone.” Hebrews 13:5b: I will never leave you nor forsake you.

Exemplify gentle compassion and kindness. Recognize the overwhelming nature of intense suffering; respect her mental and emotional overload. Avoid declarations or much instruction. Talk about God’s faithfulness, and let Scripture speak to her. Ask questions that build hope, keep suggestions simple and practical, and find out what she thinks and does with the counsel you offer. When does she act, and what motivates her actions? Do you perceive faith or doubt? Discouragement or weariness? Memory difficulties or despair? Adjust accordingly.

Build hope and network help.

• Urge her to keep going, not to give up (2 Cor. 4:16).

• Provide or suggest places of quiet refuge when needed.

• Teach her to pray. Pray for her.

• Enlist her church for practical and spiritual help.

• Show her that she is not irrelevant, used up, or ruined, but that God loves her and has a purpose for her (Phil. 1:6).

• Point out that the sufferings of Christ, Peter, John, Job (and others) were evidence of God’s favor, not His disapproval. She is being deepened rather than damaged.

• Help her reach out to others as she grows, to avoid self-absorption and isolation (2 Cor. 1:3-6).

Questions for Reflection

1. How might you understand the evolving challenges in each segment of a lengthy trial?

2. How might your counsel better reflect God’s compassions with those in prolonged suffering?

3. When your counselee is overwhelmed, how might you simplify your use of Scripture and biblical examples to address her major questions?

Resources

Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy by Mark Vroegop (Crossway, 2019)
God’s Healing for Life’s Losses by Bob Kellemen (BMH Books, 2010)
God’s Grace in Your Suffering by David Powlison (Crossway, 2018)
Craving Grace by Ruthie Delk (Moody Publishing, 2013)
New Morning Mercies by Paul David Tripp (New Growth Press, 2014)
Did I Say the Right Thing? By Mitch Schultz (Exalt Publications, 2011)

The Refiner’s Fire

By Paul Tautges

God ordains trials to test the reality of our faith in a way that’s similar to the process of purifying precious metals. Gold, for example, is purified through a process of high temperature heating or chemical exposure. According to Sciencing, an online magazine, “If the gold is a low grade ore, then it is broken up into chunks that are then put in carefully lined pads and treated with a dilute cyanide solution, which dissolves the gold. For high grade ore, the metal is sent to a grinding mill and made into a powder. Refractory ore contains carbon and is heated to over 1000 degrees.”

But God says that our faith is even more precious than gold, which is perishable. For this reason, He sometimes turns up the thermostat. He heats up the furnace of affliction, in order to reveal impurity in our hearts, so that it can be skimmed off. As the apostle Peter writes, our faith is “tested by fire” when we are “grieved by various trials.” Greek scholar, Kenneth Wuest, provides a beautiful illustration of God’s refining fire.

“The picture here is of an ancient goldsmith who puts his crude gold ore in a crucible, subjects it to intense heat, and thus liquefies the mass. The impurities rise to the surface and are skimmed off. When the metalworker is able to see the reflection of his face clearly mirrored in the surface of the liquid, he takes it off the fire, for he knows that the contents are pure gold. So it is with God and His child. He puts us in the crucible of Christian suffering, in which process sin is gradually put out of our lives, our faith is purified from the slag of unbelief that somehow mingles with it so often, and the result is the reflection of the face of Jesus Christ in the character of the Christian. This, above all, God the Father desires to see. Christlikeness is God’s ideal for His child. Christian suffering is one of the most potent means to that end.”

Job, the Old Testament hero of the faith, understood this picture. It was after his horrendous trial, which is beyond anything we have yet to experience, he testified of God, “When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold” (Job 23:10). It is my prayer that the Lord would so work in our hearts during our times of testing, so that we may one day say the same. Oh, may He purify His church!

The teaching of Scripture is clear: In order to produce a godly, mature Christian, God increases the temperature of life, in order to bring to the surface the sin that is already in our hearts, which we may be blinded from seeing, or just too stubborn to address. To use a similar metaphor, like the boiling hot water that steeps the tea out of the bag, trials draw out the issues of life that reside in our heart. The trial is not the problem, nor does it create the issues of the heart. They are already “in the tea bag,” so to speak.

The purpose of the trial is to draw out our hidden sins (Psalm 139:23), so that they may be repented of, and the process of sanctification may be stimulated. As we make sometimes-slow, gradual progress, we become like Christ, in whose image we are being re-made (Colossians 3:10). This is the refiner’s fire, of which Scripture speaks.

Proverbs 17:3 says, “The refining pot is for silver and the furnace for gold, but the Lord tests the hearts.”

Zechariah 13:9, referring to the end-time remnant of Israel, says, “And I will bring the third part through the fire, refine them as silver is refined, and test them as gold is tested, they will call on My name, and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are My people,’ and they will say, ‘The Lord is My God.’”

Malachi 3:4, which is prophetic of Christ, says, “He will sit as a smelter and purifier of silver, and He will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they may present to the Lord offerings in righteousness.”

Just as the refining process is used to remove impurities, in order to bring out the beauty of gold, so trials reveal our inner self. This gives us the opportunity to repent of sin, and be made more like Christ. For this reason, we know at least some of the good that God is up to in our trials.

In 1 Peter 1:6-9, we get a glimpse of God’s will for our trials.

“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. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

God wants you to understand His good will in all that He is doing—right now—in your life. So when you find yourself under a trial God wants you to respond in three ways:

1. Rejoice in the superior promise of your inheritance (v. 6).
2. Recognize the sanctifying purpose of your trials (v. 7).
3. Remain steadfast in the perseverance of faith (vv. 8-9).

The point is clear: God uses suffering to heat up our lives in order to bring the scum of our hearts into full view in order that we may repent and be refined—to reflect more accurately the beauty of Jesus.

This blog was originally posted at Counseling One Another, read the original post here.

God Hears Tears as Well as Prayers

Colin Smith

Sarai said to Abram, “Behold now, the Lord has prevented me from bearing children. Go in to my servant; it may be that I shall obtain children by her” (Gen. 16:2).

The outline of Hagar’s story is simple: Sarah wanted to have a child, and so she gives her servant, Hagar, to Abraham. Abraham agrees with the plan. Hagar conceives, and this already fractured family is plunged into a web of conflicting loyalties and hidden resentments.

Hagar’s story comes right out of the Scriptures and speaks straight into the life of the person who has never felt deeply loved. Hagar was never first in anyone’s life. No one was close enough to Hagar to know who she really was and what she really felt. There was no one she could count on—not even the father of the child she was carrying.

Emotionally Abandoned

Abraham was the father of this child, and he had responsibility for Hagar. But Abraham did not stand up for her. He gave her up, just as Pharaoh and Sarah had done before. Hagar ended up alone, pregnant, and in the desert, which is like being alone, pregnant, and in the city today.

Who cared about this woman? Her whole life seemed to be a story of what other people wanted. She was pushed from pillar to post, according to what was most convenient for others.

This is a story for the person who feels that she has been like a pawn, moved around on the board of other people’s lives.

Spiritually Wounded

In the kindness of God, Hagar found herself in the family God had chosen to bless. Hagar would have learned about God from Abraham and Sarah. But they turned out to be desperately flawed believers. Try to imagine the impact on Hagar when the only believers she knew used her in the way that they did! How could this woman ever come to believe?

It’s not surprising that she ran from the family of faith. She ran from Sarah and from Abraham, and she ran from the God that they had failed so badly.

This is a story for the person who has learned about God, but now struggles with faith because of what he or she has seen in the lives of some believers.

Deeply Loved

The last part of Hagar’s story is full of hope for every person who feels emotionally abandoned or spiritually wounded. Hagar discovered that she was deeply loved by God.

Here are three glimpses of His love.

1. God finds lost people.

The angel of the Lord found her by a spring of water in the wilderness, the spring on the way to Shur (Gen. 16:7).

God appeared to Hagar in visible form, as he had to Abraham and Sarah. We know this because Sarah “called the name of the LORD who spoke to her…” (Gen. 16:13). It was Yahweh who spoke to her directly and personally. Hagar would never have found her way to God, but God in his mercy, found His way to her.

If God waited for us to find Him, none of us would get there. Lost sheep don’t have the capacity to find the Good Shepherd. It is the Good Shepherd who has the capacity to find lost sheep.

Hagar was running away from believers, and she was running away from God. She was angry and resentful; she felt a sense of injustice. This hardly seemed like a time when she could hear the voice of God. And yet it proved to be the great turning point of Hagar’s life!

2. God hears suffering people.

The angel of the Lord said to her, “Behold, you are pregnant and shall bear a son. You shall call his name Ishmael, because the Lord has listened to your affliction” (Gen. 16:11).

This verse does not say “the Lord has listened to your prayer.” Up to this point, there is no suggestion that Hagar prayed. Why would you pray to God when running from Him? But God listens to your affliction. God hears tears as well as prayers (Ps. 56:8).

God told Hagar to give her son the name “Ishmael.” Ishmael means, “God has heard.” Since he turned out to be a difficult boy, this must have been a blessing to his mother. Every time she called out his name, she would be reminded that God hears.

There must have been times when Hagar said to herself: “Pharaoh didn’t look after me. Abraham didn’t look after me. Sarah didn’t look after me. Now I have found the One who looks after me!”

3. God sees all people.

She called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, “You are a God of seeing,” for she said, “Truly here I have seen him who looks after me” (Gen. 16:13).

It is fascinating that Hagar said this immediately after the prophecy made about Ishmael: “He shall be a wild donkey of a man, his hand against everyone and everyone’s hand against him” (Gen. 16:12).

Parents know what it is to see a reflection of themselves in the struggles of their children. I suspect Hagar saw a reflection of herself in the description of Ishmael. And Hagar said, “Truly you are the God who sees me!” You know me as no one ever has!

God sees not with the eyes of condemnation but with the eyes of love—this for a woman who was running from Him, in order to lay hold of her and bring her back.

Happy Ending?

Hagar did what the Lord commanded. She went back to Abraham and Sarah, back to the fractured household of faith. Hagar bore Abram a son, and Abram called the name of his son, whom Hagar bore, Ishmael (Gen. 16:15).

But Hagar’s obedience to God meant living with continued difficulty. This is not a story that ends with “And they all lived happily ever after.” They didn’t! The “happily ever after” stuff belongs to fairy tales and Hollywood movies from the 1930s! Even Hollywood doesn’t make movies like that today, because the world doesn’t work like that.

The Bible speaks to the real world—to the ongoing difficulties faced by single mothers, perplexed wives, flawed fathers, and troubled sons. The message is not “Come to Jesus and you will live happily ever after.” The Bible’s message is “My grace is sufficient for you” (2 Cor. 12:9).

If you come to the Lord Jesus Christ today, you will find that His grace is sufficient for you, too.

As you live in the tension of a home where there is little peace, the grace of the Lord Jesus is sufficient for you. As you live with the emotional abandonment and the spiritual wounding you have experienced, the grace of the Lord Jesus is sufficient for you. Living with and mastering the wild impulses that sometimes rage in your heart and your soul won’t be easy. But you will find that His grace is sufficient for you.

Learn from the Scriptures that you are deeply loved by God, just as Hagar was. He sees you, knows you, and hears your tears. He sent his Son to seek and to save you.

By God’s grace and through his Word, He draws near to you today with the command to repent, and also with a promise of blessing. And His grace is sufficient for you.

This article is an adaptation of Pastor Colin’s sermon, “The Single Mother”, from his series Faith for Fractured Families.

 Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/08/god-hears-tears-prayers/

Unity in the Midst of Trials

By Jim Koerber

Many have said that the theme of Paul’s letter to the Philippians is joy. There is a lot of merit to this claim. Paul mentions joy or rejoicing 12 times in this short letter. Warren Weirsbe, now with the Lord, wrote the popular “Be…” series and the title of his Philippians study was of course, “Be Joyful!” But as I read Philippians today I wonder if Paul (and Warren Weirsbe now?) might say, “Joy, yes, important, but don’t miss unity!”

We see unity being the source of joy for Paul when he writes,

“So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Philippians 2:1-11

The basis for our unity according to Paul is a common life experience—the Gospel and all its implications! We find a common encouragement by first being united with Christ. No longer the objects of His wrath, together we share and are united by the comfort of His love! We together are the objects of His love. This unity that brings joy is a Spirit-empowered fellowship with the Lord and one another and is characterized by affection or tenderness, and sympathy or compassion. These are not mere sentiments. No, these are to be the very disposition of our character toward one another in our words, actions and deeds.

With the Gospel as our basis for unity established, Paul turns his attention and ours to an expansion of how such unity is exhibited—likemindedness, or as the ESV translates it—“of the same mind.” Likemindedness is very important to Paul, he mentions it 10 times in Philippians. It literally means “to love the same things.” What are the things we should love? In the immediate literary context it starts with a negative: it is not a love of what’s important to me, my interests, my comforts, my exaltation. Rather it’s a likemindedness rooted in loving God with our entire being and loving our neighbor as ourselves (Matthew 22:37-39). We know this is true because Paul demonstrates in this passage that Christ is our example!

Jesus’ example for us begins with humility. No unity will be developed without an atmosphere of humility. Writing about humility John Calvin said that it is “the sovereign virtue—the mother and root of all virtue.” Jonathan Edwards said humility is “the most essential thing in true religion.” And of course the Scriptures are full of admonitions regarding this important characteristic that is a sign of being in Christ. Consider Isaiah the prophet, writing at a time of renaissance and wealth and pride in Israel,

Thus says the LORD:
“Heaven is my throne,
and the earth is my footstool;
what is the house that you would build for me,
and what is the place of my rest?
All these things my hand has made,
and so all these things came to be,
declares the LORD.
But this is the one to whom I will look:
he who is humble and contrite in spirit
and trembles at my word. Isaiah 66:1-2

Fast forward to the early church in Jerusalem and James warns as he shepherds,

“God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.” James 4:6b

Humility is the Spirit-given characteristic of the elect. Jesus tells us this early on in His ministry when He preached from a mountain to those who were following Him to hear His message, a message of perfection that only He could keep for them. If they were to embrace the Gospel it would mean they would have to bring nothing and die to themselves. Such people demonstrate that their citizenship is not found in the ancient nation of Israel, or the prosperous Roman city of Philipi (Philippians 3:20). No our citizenship is found in the Kingdom of Heaven,

“Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 5:3

Humility is the only atmosphere in which unity will thrive. The Lord tells us through His servant Paul that humility is seen in “counting” others more highly than ourselves. In other words, when we look at each other we should give a greater weightedness to the other person’s needs than to our own. This is what Christ did when he did not “count” equality something to be grasped. That is truly jaw dropping when you think about it. We are called to think this same way together.

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus…”

Jesus came to the earth in flesh, was born in a humble fashion, a servant (“my servant” Isaiah 42!), and died no typical death—a death reserved for the lowliest criminal. Christ’s humility is upheld as our example but is much more than that. His humility is seen in His obedience. This obedience that led to the cross purchased the redemption of the prideful elect granting them the grace and faith to now follow in humility.

I must admit that when I strive to be sacrificial in my service my motive is still so often tainted with pride. Not so with Christ. He is perfectly holy and His motives, untainted by sin, were of one mind and united with the Trinity. His motive was for one purpose—to glorify God. Yes, for sure we are the beneficiaries of this goal—but God saved people for Himself. God loves us—there is no doubt because of Christ. But His ultimate act of love in Christ toward us ultimately blesses us in that we now too can glorify God because of Christ. This is why the Westminster divines began their catechism with, “the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” It’s what God created us for and what the fall kept us from.

Like mindedness for us has this same goal: God’s glory. Christ laid down His life so that His image bearers, ruined by the fall, could once again look not to their own interests, but together strive to do joyfully that for which we were created—glorify God and enjoy Him forever—together! And this also means that we love one another. John tells us that this is the assurance that we are in Christ,

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 1 John 4:7-11

This blog was originally posted at Slice of Grace, view the original post here.

Posted at: https://biblicalcounseling.com/unity-in-the-midst-of-trials/

Fiery Foundation

SHARON SAMPSON

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 in nothing (James 1:2-4).

Two years ago, we traveled to Bar Harbor in Maine for our fall vacation. One of the things we enjoyed along the coast was the beautiful granite. An informative sign read as follows: “The colors and textures of the rocks around you tell a story of heat, pressure, and time that formed this landscape. These rocks started as massive pools of molten magma deep below the earth’s surface. As this liquid rock cooled into granite, it cracked, allowing newer magma with a different mix of minerals to intrude along the fractures. As upper layers of bedrock eroded, pink granite striped with dark diabase was exposed.”

At the time, I was counseling a woman who was undergoing fiery trials of a kind that many of us will never experience. Terrible heat; terrible pressure. At times, it seemed like too much to bear. I thought about this dear friend as I looked at the rocks all around me. There was a beauty to these rocks, but it was a beauty born of heat, pressure, and time.

The granite was a picture of what I saw in my friend’s life. There was a beauty about her, even in the midst of trials. What was the beauty? It was the beauty of watching her trust Christ, her suffering savior, the one who could truly sympathize with her suffering. It was the beauty of watching her cling to God’s character and promises, despite the heat and the pressure. It was the beauty of watching her apply in a laser-focused way everything she had ever learned about the Lord. It was a process that took time; that is taking time.

Seeing those rocks and thinking of my friend reminded me of 1 Peter 1:3-9:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 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. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

Where are you feeling the heat in your life today? Where do you feel pressed? Perhaps you, like the psalmist, are asking, “How long, Lord?”

When God was doing his creative work of forming granite, there was heat and pressure. Hot, molten magma. And yet, today, one walks along the rocks and marvels at the beauty of pink granite with black stripes woven throughout. How beautiful! Such is our life with Christ. The heat and pressure are so difficult. What is he doing? How long must we suffer or struggle? How long must we wait?

We may not know why. We may not know how long. Such things belong to our sovereign, incomprehensible God. But we do know much! He has given us the knowledge of his character and the surety of the promises found in his Word.

We can focus on what we know, rather than what we don’t know. We are free to think about how we are being formed into something beautiful. The heat is intense. The pressure is hard. But our lives are guided by the hand of the one who knows what will become of each and every situation we endure, and what will become of us. Despite the intensity of the here and now, he makes everything beautiful in its time.

About the Author: Sharon Sampson

Loves the Lord; married to Mark; has a married daughter (Kirby); enjoys teaching, biblical counseling, writing RP parodies, and working at RPTS.

Posted at: https://gentlereformation.com/2020/08/06/fiery-foundation/

Looking for the Light in the Tunnel

Laura Eder

How often have you heard the phrase “the light at the end of the tunnel” lately? How often have you said it? I have used this phrase when looking forward to the passing of a difficult season, such as this global pandemic, which has created all sorts of frustrations and anxiety. I would just like it to end.

Some seasons are dark. Like a tunnel, they are dim and restrictive with an overwhelming sense of confinement. And some tunnels are long—or, at the very least, they feel long.

I remember driving through the Detroit-Windsor tunnel into Canada on a family vacation when I was a kid. I couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. I don’t recall much of the trip, but the tunnel remains vivid in my memory.

Unlike most tunnels, this one was well-lit. It’s just shy of a mile and not the longest one I’ve ever been in, but it was the first. At the time, I felt trapped. This tunnel, though a major passage between two countries, was just a single lane in each direction. It felt narrow and cramped on a hot summer day. When you’re enclosed like that, you can only see what is in the tunnel with you. My vision was limited to the other cars and pick-up trucks alongside my family’s station wagon.

Lately, the pandemic has me feeling like I’m stuck in another tunnel. I’d like out. I’ve had enough. I’m ready for the open road and the clear, blue sky above. I’d like to worship in person with my church family, work at a real desk, and buy groceries without wearing a mask that fogs my glasses and irritates my allergies. I want my parents to be free from danger when leave their home. I’d like my friends to find jobs so they can pay bills. I feel boxed in, and I long for the Lord to set my feet in a spacious place (Ps. 31:8).

Reading Psalms has helped me to realize how short-sighted my prayers have been. So often, I focus only on asking God to deliver me from the tunnel. Speed up the passage, Lord! Please just spit me out on the other side already!

Longing for a trial to end is not necessarily sinful. The psalmists repeatedly show us how to pour out our hearts to God. I’m grateful for how God has used the psalmists’ prayers to remind me that I, too, can be honest and cry out to him in the darkness. Yet, my prayers don’t need to end there.

Where Should I Look for Light?

Instead of looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, I can ask for more light in the tunnel. In other words, I can ask God to raise my sights—to fix my eyes more on him. I can pray for a clear focus on God’s presence, as one of my favorite hymns instructs:

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.1

The question is: how do I see the light when darkness surrounds me?

1. Look to God’s Word

Psalm 112:4 says, “Light dawns in the darkness for the upright.” And Psalm 119 reminds me that God’s word is “a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (v. 105) and that “the unfolding of [God’s] words gives light” (v. 130). There is light in the darkness, and I need only open my Bible to find it. God’s Word is a light.

2. Look to God’s Son

The light is also a person. John talks about Jesus being the light of men that shines in the darkness. “In him was life, and the life was the light of men” (Jn 1:4). Jesus proclaims about himself, “I am the light of the world, whoever follows Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (Jn. 8:12). As a follower of Jesus, I have the light.

3. Live in the Light

In Psalm 139, when King David wonders where he can possibly go that God’s Spirit would not follow, he acknowledges, “even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.” And 1 John 1:5 gives me a similar encouragement: “God is light and in Him is no darkness at all.”

These truths changed me from a person who lived in darkness to one who now lives in the light. When I placed my faith in Jesus as Lord and Savior, I received his Spirit. This means the light of Christ is in me, no matter what dark situation I am in. Like King David, there is nowhere I can go and not be in his light. The deepest, longest tunnel cannot dim God’s light because even the darkness is as light to him!

While I believe the truth of God’s Word, it doesn’t always feel true. These long, dark seasons of life have a way of moving my eyes from eternal truth to temporary circumstances. When this happens, I need to rehearse these Bible promises. I also need to respond to them in faith.

Romans 13:12 urges us “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.” Ephesians 5:8 instructs, “now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.” I have been given gear to guard me from despair, and there is a particular manner with which I should now walk. Why? Because I don’t just have the light, I have become a light in this world to those watching. Matthew 5:14-16 declares this amazing truth:

You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

We have not yet reached the end of the COVID-19 tunnel, and we don’t know how long God will keep us going through it. The coronavirus situation is improving in some ways, but the trial hasn’t passed. Like the child in that Detroit-Windsor tunnel, I am tempted to look at only what surrounds me in this passageway. But God’s Word redirects my vision and transforms my prayers. I am now asking less for the ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, I can pray, “Lord, give me eyes to see you. Let me be a disciple who beholds and reflects the light I have, even in the midst of darkness.” Praise God for the light found in his Word and in his Son, and for the power of his Spirit to help me act in faith.

—

1. Mary E. Byrne (translator), “Be Thou My Vision”, Trinity Psalter Hymnal, #446, 1919.

Laura Eder

Laura is on staff at Unlocking the Bible, helping to equip leaders for the church. She has been an active member of The Orchard for 30 years where she and her husband Dan have led several LIFE Groups focused on biblical marriage. Laura has a passion for biblically sound teaching and resources that draw people into increasing Christlikeness. She delights to lead her weekly women’s LIFE Group, mentor younger ladies, and pray fervently for the Lord to send workers into the harvest field. She and Dan are parents of three adult children who love the Lord.

Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/07/looking-light-tunnel/