How to Say ‘God Is Faithful’ When Suffering Won’t Stop

Jon Aragón

It’s been a tough year for me. While 2018 was filled with creative, financial, and relational blessing, 2019 has been much more difficult.

My wife, Quina, and I have dealt with her ministry burnout and discouraging health issues, along with her grandmother’s death, relational strains with people we love, deferred hopes to conceive another child, and the deportation of my aunt and uncle.

After experiencing so much answered prayer in 2018, this year’s unanswered prayers and unmet desires have done a number on our hearts. You pray and fast and act for something—something as good as justice or reconciliation or healing or a child—but the answer is still “No” or “Not yet.” I’ve discovered that my heart can be so easily filled with bitterness against God as I struggle to reconcile his goodness with the suffering happening all around me.

If God is the God of justice, of reconciliation, of deliverance, of life, then what does it look like to trust him when injustice comes, division remains, and death mocks? How can we still confidently proclaim, “Our God is faithful”—and actually mean it?

Deliverance In, Not From

First, we must acknowledge the ways God is delivering us in our trials, even when he hasn’t delivered us from our trials. Or as Elihu put it, “He delivers the afflicted by their affliction and opens their ear by adversity” (Job 36:15).

God is delivering us in our trials, even when he hasn’t delivered us from our trials.

I would be lying if I said God hasn’t been delivering me in the midst of these trials. I have felt my compassion deepen for the oppressed as my family and I have tasted the injustice of a broken immigration system. I’ve learned to better serve my wife in her health limitations and grief. I’ve grown more honest in my prayer life, which has only drawn me closer to God rather than driven me from him.

Perhaps the sweetest balm of grace in my trials this year has been the steady presence, prayers, and support of my friends and church family. They have shared in my trials in such a way that even when I don’t want to believe it, I can’t help but admit that God sees me and cares for me.

Our Wounded Healer

Second, we must know that our God isn’t just a healer, but a wounded healer, as Henri Nouwen put it. How did Jesus heal our wounds of sin? With his own wounds (Isa. 53:5).

We serve the only God with scars (Luke 24:39–40; John 20:20, 27; Rev. 5:12). The only God willing to take on human flesh and the human experience of pain and limitations, who then took on the full weight of human sin and lived to tell the tale.

Do you know this God? He is the wounded healer who sympathizes with your weaknesses and afflictions. He is the God who gave himself as his greatest gift. Even in the darkness, as the pain settles in, we can proclaim, “Our God is faithful”—and truly mean it.

Proclaim Him in Lament

Last, we can use the voice and the gifts God has given us to proclaim his faithfulness. How do we do this? The psalmists knew it well: we lament.

In his book Prophetic Lament, Soong Chan-Rah states, “Lament challenges the church to acknowledge real suffering and plead with God for his intervention.” What would it look like if your family gatherings, your small group, and your church were consistently marked with Godward lament over injustices and suffering? Perhaps it would look a bit more like Christ himself.

Biblical lament calls us to passionately express our grief, our complaints, our questions, even our anger to God. It calls for messy, inarticulate, snot-filled prayers. It calls for honesty when someone asks, “How can I pray for you?” And it demands that our triumphal assumptions about the Christian life be confronted by the Savior who was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isa. 53:3).

As I’m learning soul honesty with God and others, lament has been a challenging yet refreshing opportunity to lean more deeply into the arms of my faithful Father. I pour out my heart to God in lament, and I rise with much greater conviction that he is, indeed, faithful.

More Faithful Representation

It’s easy for us to only see the highlight reel of people’s lives on social media. But I hope that through our various callings, we can more honestly portray the Christian walk.

That walk that includes both mountaintops and valleys. Lots of valleys. The walk acknowledges the deliverance of our wounded healer, even when the darkness hasn’t fully lifted. And the walk is marked by the kind of lament that exalts God’s faithfulness over and above our own.

This is how we’ll be able to say, “God is faithful”—and truly mean it.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/say-god-faithful-suffering/

No Throwaway Seasons

EMILY JENSEN

In an age of public sharing, we see people lament life’s transitions. Moms post pictures of the moving boxes or the progression of their baby bumps with coordinated letter boards. They write about the sadness of the empty womb or express their struggle as they wait for a child’s diagnosis. We’re getting used to embracing the awkward and painful transitions of life by locking arms and coming alongside one another in the journey.

There is some good in this trend. Acknowledging and validating the messy seasons of life assures us we’re not alone. This gives us a sigh of relief. After all, Jesus wept with the hurting, cautious not to gloss over the hardship of struggle, pain, and death. But we have to wonder if positive affirmations and prompts to “look ahead” extend our gaze far enough for real hope.

I can relate to hard seasons of transition when our family size changes. When we had four kids three and under, one being a newborn, the days were incredibly long. One morning before church, my husband left early, leaving me at home with everyone else. I was determined to make food for a potluck we were attending after church. In a couple of hours, I needed to nurse, shower, change everyone’s clothes, and make a meal. There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth. When we finally made it to the potluck, I was so tired and frazzled, I misstepped and dropped the meal before placing it on the table. Seeing the dish shatter into hundreds of shards of glass on the concrete was an embarrassing representation of my heart during our transition to a new normal. I was a big, hot mess going a hundred directions, unsure of my usefulness in such a pitiful state.

Transitions are like that. They can bring out the worst in us, depriving us of what we think we must have to be happy, comfortable, and thriving until our true nature is revealed. God shows us our impatient exasperation when our husband works late every night or travels for weeks on end. He shows us our fickle hearts when a chorus of commotion from our children sends us to seek refuge in social media.

When a goldsmith wants to purify gold, he heats it until the impurities are revealed so he can skim them off. Without the heat, the impurities stay embedded in the gold. Similarly, our circumstances turn up the heat until we see what’s in our hearts. It’s not that we used to be nice, energetic people, and now (due to this transition and things outside of our control) we’re suddenly irritable and unkind. Those changes simply expose the hidden sin that existed all along in the ease and familiarity of our old circumstances.

In the same way, God allows us to experience the pain, difficulty, and discomfort of transitional seasons so our faith is tested and purified because this results in eternal glory and praise for Christ. (1 Peter 1:7) The transition you just want to end isn’t a throwaway season—it’s a time full of God’s purposes, when hindsight will tell a story of sin and need driving us to the Father and making us love more like the Son.

A Better Thing to Look Forward To

We’re right to look forward to something better, but we’re often wrong about what that is. We don’t just need to hang on until the end of this transition— until we’re sleeping through the night again, until we’re more familiar with the school routine, or until we unpack our moving boxes. Rather, we need to hang on until we meet Jesus face to face, finding joy and purpose in the meantime. God doesn’t promise our current hard season or transition will end the way we want it to, but he does promise he’ll be with us all the way through it.

In my season of transition to more children, I needed a promise of spring. I needed to see the value in the season of transition, when God was shoveling, tilling, raking—messing up the hard soil of my heart. He was ready to plant new seeds of faith that could later produce a great harvest for the kingdom. He was not content to let the field of my life stay dormant.

The ultimate spring we all need to look forward to is the defrosting of Satan’s cold grip on this earth, when the full and final sunshine of God and the Lamb lights up the streets of the New Jerusalem. (Revelation 21:23) That’s the true end to this big, groaning transition we’re all in, and it’s the only thing we can count on.

Transitional seasons are part of life. We might not enjoy every aspect of them, but we don’t have to fear them. God loves us too much to let us be comfortable and unscathed. Adoption, infertility, job loss, sick family members, new careers, and new schools might feel like transitions we don’t want to bear. But let’s rejoice when we have moments of joy and rest, knowing that God has good purposes for today and a sure promise of our final destination.

Editor’s Note: This post is an adapted excerpt from Risen Motherhood: Gospel Hope For Everyday Moments

Posted at: https://encourage.pcacdm.org/2019/09/05/post-template-167/

A Psalm Every Day: Steps for Walking Through Trials

Article by Lindsey Tollefson

When I was eight weeks pregnant with my son, my doctor took one look at the ultrasound and told me that he was not going to live. She said to give her a call when the miscarriage started and I left the office with an ultrasound bill and a lump in my throat.

Despite the sick feeling in my heart, I wanted to cling to Christ and glorify God despite the devastation I felt.

A verse kept ringing through my head, “Consider it all joy when you face trials of many kinds” (James 1:1). How could I consider it joy that my doctor told me my son would soon die? James wasn’t just saying “rejoice despite your trial,” he was saying “rejoice because of your trial.” How could I turn to help me obey this command from the heart?

Songs to Sing Under Dark Clouds

I turned to the Psalms for comfort and wisdom, and I invite all who are walking through difficult circumstances to do the same. The Psalms give us the tools to train our minds to rejoice in all circumstances. Have you ever faced trouble and wished you understood to consider it joy? Have you wondered how you can actually be happy to see a storm cloud hovering over your life? The Psalms prepare us to treasure Christ through suffering, and train our hearts and minds to bring God glory and find joy in all things.

If you are slandered or betrayed, train your heart to say, “In God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?” (Psalm 56:4) If you have been diagnosed with a chronic illness, train your heart to say, “My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:26). When you are facing financial trouble, train your heart to say, “Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed; He will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving strength of his right hand. Some boast in chariots and some in horses, But we will boast in the name of the Lord, our God” (Psalm 20:6–7).

Training our hearts and minds with the Psalms gives us the perspective to be able to welcome trials with the open-armed joy that James talks about. The Psalms teach us how to live out our purpose to glorify God, even with our troubles.

Through Sorrow to Praise

Throughout the Psalms, we see the writers go through times of confusion, times of grieving and lament, and times of rejoicing. In all those circumstances, they show us how to respond in a way that brings glory to God. They show us how to be completely satisfied in God, how to make God our portion and our strength through times of lament and confusion.

Psalms of Lament

It might seem strange that lamenting would bring glory to God. When David was hiding from Saul, he wrote these lyrics,

With my voice I cry out to the Lord; with my voice I plead for mercy to the Lord. I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him. When my spirit faints within me, you know my way! (Psalm 142:1–3)

Look at the example David gives us when fleeing from those who wanted to kill him. He shows us how to talk to God when we are overwhelmed. He pours out his complaints to God, and he finds comfort in knowing that God is directing his path. When we are walking through hardship we can still be honoring God. When we direct our complaints to God instead of to all the people around us, we are showing God that we believe he is the only one who can help.

Psalms of Confusion

Many places in the Psalms, the writer is confused. For example, in Psalm 13, he asks desperate questions,

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? (Psalm 13:1–2)

Have you ever felt like crying out to God, “What is happening? And where are you?” Even these perplexed and desperate cries can bring honor and glory to God. God wants us to search for answers in him, trusting his timing and revelation. When we pursue God more than our most precious things — our work, our family, our friends, our health, our homes, our money — he is glorified. When we let go of all the things we naturally trust in, when we find our only comfort in God, then our confusion finds peace to wait for help from God.

Psalms of Praise

The Psalms train our hearts to praise God. Learning about God’s character is the first step to knowing how to praise him. We can’t praise God without knowing what he is like. The Psalms tell that God is kind, patient, caring, merciful, attentive, beautiful, and holy.

The Psalms show us how to praise God for who he is and for what he has done. “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever” (Psalm 136:1). When we work with gladness and gratitude, our life becomes a gift to God that glorifies him.

When we praise him during times of blessing, we are reminding ourselves that he is the one who has poured out goodness on us. When we praise him during times of trouble, we are opening our eyes to see all the good he is creating from our ashes. When we praise him for our trials, we acknowledge that he is using our trials as his tool.

Soundtrack of Faith

As it turned out, my doctor was wrong about my son’s story. For seven long months, she continued to predict miscarriage, stillbirth, or a severely malnourished premie. But God heard our prayers and our boy was born healthy and strong at full term.

During my pregnancy, I found so much encouragement by steeping my mind in the Psalms. If you are walking through a trial, I encourage you to do the same. Read a psalm every day. Pray the Psalms when you talk to God. Sing a psalm when your emotions need to be redirected. Recite the Psalms to yourself when you are discouraged, and let the words lead you back to Christ. Listen to the Psalms being sung. Make them the soundtrack of your life.

When the Psalms get into your bones, your heart will be strong enough to see the joy in all trials. You will know how to react when you are confused or disappointed or lost. The Psalms are a good blueprint for glorifying God in all situations.

Lindsey Tollefson is the co-author of Psalms for Trials: Meditations on Praying the Psalms.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/a-psalm-every-day?fbclid=IwAR0ISE2nUknn19jP9I-aHeE4Q7hMmWojxq5VudqOXUAnrYCHkHB-23A6A3k

Trusting God In Your Waiting Season

by Katie McCoy 

When I was about 8 years old, my family had a bunch of people over for a pool party. I was so excited to jump in with the crowd until my parents told me that since I’d just gotten over being sick, I’d have to sit this party out. (Between the colds and earaches we got to know the pediatrician’s office pretty well). I was disappointed, to say the least. I had my very fashionable goggles and was ready to go, only to find out that “for my good” I would have to sit on the sidelines…by myself…when everyone else was having a party. To my eight-year-old social life, this was devastating. All the people were there, the pool was right there – all I had to do was jump in! I was supremely bummed.

But later, as I was sulking on the porch, my parents surprised me with the reason for the restriction: In just a few days I’d be getting on a plane and traveling 3,000 miles to see my favorite childhood friends. My little 3rd-grade heart was elated! All of sudden I didn’t feel so left out. Another sniffling nose or earache would have made for a rather miserable trip. When I realized that what seemed like a joy-stealing restriction was actually a preparation. Once I realized what was coming, I didn’t mind temporarily sitting off to the side.

While the days of pool parties may have passed, there are still times when it seems like I’m sitting on the sidelines, waiting for some divine revelation to make sense of all the “why’s.” Maybe you’ve been there too, asking God, Where do I go from here? What’s the next step? or Is this ever going to change?

Sometimes we feel stuck waiting for the answer. Or, perhaps we’ve convinced ourselves that we have the answer, but God doesn’t seem to be on the same page. The solution is seemingly right there – you could just jump in! But, for whatever reason, you’ve been given what seems like a joy-stealing restriction or another closed door and you’re left wondering whether God really is the caring, involved Father that He says He is.

But learning to wait on the Lord seems to be an unavoidable aspect of the Christian walk. Miles Stanford said, “God does not hurry in His development of our Christian life. He is working from and for eternity! So many feel they are not making progress unless they are swiftly and constantly forging ahead.” (Principles of Spiritual Growth) If the pace of our lives is in His hands, then even our seasons of silence are for a purpose that goes way beyond our current circumstance. In fact, one biblical woman shows us that how we wait for God is just as important as what we’re waiting for Him to do.

Hannah had wanted just one thing from the Lord – a son. After enduring years of being reproached in her society, ridiculed by the child-bearing second wife, and perhaps feeling forgotten by God, she pleaded with the Lord: “O LORD of hosts, if you will indeed look on the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life” (1 Sam. 1:11). She prayed, wept, and poured out her soul (v. 15). Then, without any guarantee that the Lord would even fulfill her longing, Hannah got up and “her face was no longer sad” (v. 16).  She trusted the heart of God even before she even knew His answer. She had surrendered herself to whatever He had in store.

But what’s even more striking about Hannah’s request was her focus. In the deepest cry of her heart, her focus was still not on her own happiness. She had already determined that, should God give her the one blessing she wanted – she wouldn’t hold onto it for herself. Hannah vowed that if the Lord gave her a son – the one thing in this life that she wanted – she would give that son back to the Lord, dedicating him to His service.

Perhaps we can learn something from this woman in waiting. Hannah surrendered to trusting the will and timing of God, even if it meant giving back the very blessing she’d hoped for all these years. God did give Hannah a son (1:20), and Hannah gave her son back to God (1:28). It was only when she determined to give God glory in whatever He chose to give her that she was finally blessed with it.

It’s true – we don’t have any guarantee that our specific request will be given. If you’re anything like me, it’s easy to hear Hannah’s story and think “Ok-great! All I have to do is want God’s will above all else and then He will have to say yes!”  Our hearts could be entirely surrendered and yielded, and in the wisdom of God, our circumstances may stay the same.  But perhaps what Hannah’s story would teach us today is that when we pursue God for who He is more than for what He can do, our waiting seasons don’t have to be miserable. When we rest in the truth that the same God who ordered our steps (Ps. 37:23) is our loving Father who wants only our good, and gives only good things to His children (Matt. 7:11), then our seasons of waiting can become times of expectant hope. What may seem like a setback or a delay is actually His perfecting preparation. Like Hannah, when our hearts are more intent on displaying the reality of God than obtaining His blessings – when we let go of those hopes we cling to so tightly and surrender to His perfect will – perhaps then we come to a place where He can act for and through us.

What do you find yourself waiting on today? Will you trust that even in your seasons of silence, God has a refining purpose? Sure,  you could jump into the convenient, “quick-fix” solution, tired of feeling restricted and like you’re on the outside looking in. But God has promised that He is good to those who wait for Him (Psalm 27:14) and that if you’re called according to His purpose, He will work all things together for your good (Rom. 8:28).  He has only good in mind for you! Even more, The Lord has already promised that He will fulfill His purpose for you (Psalm 138:8) and that none of those who wait for the Lord will be ashamed (Psalm 25:3). Will you trust his kind intentions for you, even when it feels like you’ve been forgotten? Will you wait for Him to act when it seems like you’ll never see the results?

For since the world began, no ear has heard, and no eye has seen a God like you, who works for those who wait for him! (Is. 64:4). Will you wait on the Lord in your waiting season?

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/trusting-god-in-your-waiting-season

How Bad Theology Hurts Sufferers

Article by Vaneetha Rendall Risner

Why does God answer yes to some prayers and no to others? Why does God miraculously heal some people and not others? Why does disaster strike one city and not another?

I’ve been pondering these questions since Hurricane Florence devastated much of Eastern North Carolina last year. I live in the center of the state, and contrary to the foreboding predictions, we were relatively unaffected. In response, a friend said, “I know why we were spared catastrophe and the storm circled our area and went south. I was praying that God would keep us safe and he answered my prayers!”

I had no words.

I know that God answers prayer. And we need to pray. God tells us to ask and it will be given to us (Matthew 7:7). But my friend’s words made me wonder if she thought that no one in Eastern Carolina was praying. I know people whose livelihoods were destroyed in the storm. Everything they owned was gone. They escaped with their lives but nothing material left. Some of them begged God to spare their city.

One Died, Another Lived

What are we as believers to infer from these natural disasters? Can we simply draw straight lines between our requests and God’s answers? Years ago, I heard a pastor tell of his cancer that went into remission. When he told his congregation the good news, several commented, “We knew God would heal you. He had to. So many people were praying for you.”

While the pastor was thankful for others’ prayers, he also knew God did not owe him healing. Faithful believers throughout the ages have earnestly prayed and yet not been healed. The apostle Paul was not healed to show God’s power could be made perfect in Paul’s weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

And then there was my own son, Paul, who died as an infant. We had prayed, fasted, and asked friends to pray for his healing. Several years after his death, we met a man who said when he learned of our loss, “Don’t take this wrong, but we prayed for all of our children before they were born. And they were all born healthy.” We had no words.

Why Did God Save Peter?

In considering the question of when and why God chooses to rescue, I was reminded of Acts 12 which begins: “About that time Herod the king laid violent hands on some who belonged to the church. He killed James the brother of John with the sword, and when he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also. . . . So Peter was kept in prison, but earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church” (Acts 12:1–5). Peter was then rescued the very night that Herod was about to bring him out, to presumably kill him as he had killed James.

Why did God let James die and Peter live?

Peter, James, and John were three of Jesus’s closest disciples. These three were often selected to be alone with Jesus. Yet their earthly lives after Christ’s resurrection were markedly different. John was the last of the disciples to die, Peter was rescued from prison in Acts 12, but church history records that he was later martyred by being crucified upside down.

James was the first of the disciples to be martyred. The Bible records that Herod killed James with no elaborating details. We simply know that Peter was spared while James was not. What are we to make of this? Did God love Peter more than James? Was James’s life less important? Did James have less faith? Were people not praying for James?

Our Father Knows Best

Looking at the fuller counsel of the Bible, it is clear that God has plans that we do not understand. His ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8–9). Because we believe that death is just a passage into eternal life (2 Timothy 1:10), one that all of us will go through, it ultimately doesn’t matter when we pass through it. God numbers our days before they begin, and he alone determines when we will die (Psalm 139:16).

Though we often cannot understand God’s purposes in this life, we can be sure that James’s life as a disciple and his death as a martyr was intentional. Everything God does has purpose (Isaiah 46:10). Because of that, we can be sure that at the time of James’s death, he had accomplished what God had called him to (Philippians 1:6), while Peter’s work on earth was unfinished (Philippians 1:24–25).

Living or dying, being spared or being tortured, being delivered in this life or the next is not an indicator of God’s love for us or the measure of our faith. Nothing can separate us from God’s love, and our future is determined by what he knows is best for us (Romans 8:28, 35–38).

Paul understood this principle well when he said in Philippians 1:21–23, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, that is far better.” Departing this world and being with Christ is far better because eternal life is far better than life on earth. No matter what this life holds, we will eventually be deliriously happy in heaven where God has all of eternity to lavish us with his kindness (Ephesians 2:7).

Suffering Is Not Punishment

Even though I know these truths, I have often been discouraged that others have been rescued while I was still suffering. Prosperity gospel proponents have told me that if I had prayed in faith, my body would have been healed, my son would have been spared, and my marriage would have been restored. It was all up to me. If I just had the faith, I would have had a better outcome.

Their words have left me bruised and disillusioned, wondering what I was doing wrong.

But that theology is not the gospel. God’s response to our prayers is not dependent upon our worthiness but rather rests upon on his great mercy (Daniel 9:18). Because of Christ, who took our punishment, God is always for us (Romans 8:31). He wants to give us all things. Christ himself is ever interceding for us (Romans 8:31–34).

If you are in Christ, God is completely for you. Your suffering is not a punishment. Your struggles are not because you didn’t pray the right way, or because you didn’t pray enough, or because you have weak faith or insufficient intercessors. It is because God is using your suffering in ways that you may not understand now, but one day you will. One day you will see how God used your affliction to prepare you for incomparable weight of glory (2 Corinthians 4:17). This is the gospel. And it holds for all who love Christ.

Vaneetha Rendall Risner is a freelance writer and a regular contributor to Desiring God. She blogs at danceintherain.com, although she doesn’t like rain and has no sense of rhythm. Vaneetha is married to Joel and has two daughters, Katie and Kristi. She and Joel live in Raleigh, North Carolina. Vaneetha is the author of the book The Scars That Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/just-have-more-faith?utm_campaign=Daily+Email&utm_source=hs_email&utm_medium=email&utm_content=70927869&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-93tT14cUwkflKZi2ZYuazZsx3FJlziR57wwnSyVGIoXQunnvrG9M82Blt6RqeVIXEqnKJYP3i0Ss37ak4FadilK5N5Zg&_hsmi=70927869

When You Do Not Know What to Do

Article by Dave Zuleger

When was the last time a trial came so swiftly and forcefully that you did not know what to do?

My wife has lived in chronic pain for eight years. Recently, however, she woke up one morning with new health concerns that brought another hard, confusing, and frightening reality — a heavy one laid on top of the one we’re already living with day to day. We had just moved to a new home, and were going to a new church. I was the new pastor of that church. Our newborn was only six weeks old.

We felt like the armies of our circumstances were closing in around us with nowhere to go. As a husband and father, I felt completely off-balance. No one could encourage me. I felt helpless to help my wife, overwhelmed by the weight of her suffering. Why, God? Even after years of her chronic pain — and seeing the good God does through it — I felt like I was back to square one of faith, just clinging by a thread. I was supposed to be pastoring others, but I felt like I could speak but one word to God: “Help.”

Pretending Self-Sufficiency

Around that time, I found a story of a king who felt helpless to protect and care for the people he was responsible for. A king also overwhelmed with fear. King Jehoshaphat finds out that there is a “great multitude” coming soon to attack his people (2 Chronicles 20:1–2) — an army they know they cannot compete with on their own.

Most of us will never feel what he felt; we will never literally be under the attack of a great army marching up to our door. But we can all relate to overwhelming circumstances in our life that make us feel trapped, helpless, and certain we won’t make it much longer. The Bible is honest about how King Jehoshaphat felt when he got the news about the army of certain doom heading his way — he was afraid (2 Chronicles 20:3). His response to that fear is remarkable. He calls a fast in all of Judah and gathers the people to seek the Lord and his help (2 Chronicles 20:4).

This is not a natural human response. If someone asks us how we are doing at church, the answer almost automatically spills out, “I’m good.” Our profiles put our best, most carefully portrayed images of strength and sufficiency forward. We don’t readily admit that we’re often afraid, broken, lonely, despairing, failing in sin, and struggling to see or trust God.

Jehoshaphat could have pretended he wasn’t afraid. He could have acted like he had it all together. He could have gathered the generals and made the best plan possible. Instead, he gathered the people, admitted his weakness, and sought the help of the Lord together — instead, he prayed. He prays, “We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20:12). He not only runs to God in prayer himself, but he also calls others to pray with him.

Did You Not, Our God?

While Jehoshaphat is admittedly afraid and without a good plan himself, he is not despairing. In fact, his prayer rings with boldness and steady hope in the God of his people. Where does his courage come from?

Did you not, our God, drive out the inhabitants of this land before your people Israel, and give it forever to the descendants of Abraham your friend? And they have lived in it and have built for you in it a sanctuary for your name, saying, “If disaster comes upon us, the sword, judgment, or pestilence, or famine, we will stand before this house and before you — for your name is in this house — and cry out to you in our affliction, and you will hear and save.” (2 Chronicles 20:7–9)

Jehoshaphat’s hope is built on the promises and presence of God. It is God’s name that dwells in Judah, and therefore his glory is at stake in this great horde marching against them. Jehoshaphat knows that God is passionate about his glory and faithful to keep all his promises, so he appeals to him with great confidence and directness knowing he’ll find well-timed help because of the covenant love of God (Hebrews 4:14–16).

In the same way, even when we feel overwhelmed by our circumstances, steady hope lives and endures in the promises of God to us in Christ. Jesus is the Good Shepherd who will lead us even in the valley of the shadow of death, pursuing us with his goodness and mercy all the days of our lives (Psalm 23:4, 6). Jesus will not break a bruised reed or put out a smoldering wick (Isaiah 42:3). Jesus will pour out his all-sufficient grace as we boast in our weaknesses (2 Corinthians 12:7–10). Nothing will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord as he works all things for our good (Romans 8:28–39).

When we are afraid, we pray with confidence because of these sure and steady promises — promises that are ours because Jesus bled and died to make us sons and daughters of God.

God Spoke Through Whom?

As Jehoshaphat draws the people together to pray, God sends strength and encouragement in an unexpected way. The Spirit of God fills, not Jehoshaphat, but a man named Jahaziel (2 Chronicles 20:14). Jahaziel rises and declares, “Thus says the Lord to you, ‘Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s’” (2 Chronicles 20:15). Do not fear; God will fight for us. And despite everything we can see, we will win(2 Chronicles 20:17).

The particular word of hope that needs to be spoken does not always come to the king — or, in our day, to the pastor or small-group leader. As we suffer, share our burdens with one another, and seek the Lord together through prayer, God very often will speak through someone else.

Our individualized society, at least in the West, has often invaded our churches. We gather together once a week to sing, pray, take the Lord’s Table, and hear God’s word preached (still a beautiful thing!), but often don’t actually live like a blood-bought family — at least not like the one we see in the New Testament (Acts 2:42–47; 20:28).

Members of the early church were so close, and the self-giving love of Christ was so prevalent among them, that none of them counted any of their possessions as their own. They gladly met the needs of one another. The apostle Paul calls Christians to join him in prayer, so that as many pray and God answers, God gets more glory (2 Corinthians 1:11). It feels simpler and easier and more comfortable to keep our struggles to ourselves and search for our own answers. But God has placed believers in a body — in a family where he manifests his love through mutual care and prayer.

In other words, if we don’t let other people into our trials and crises, we miss out on the blessing we might have received from God.

What Is Our Victory?

The people of Judah received Jahaziel’s word with joy. The next morning, Jehoshaphat calls them to believe the word of the Lord, and they march out to face the army. Oh, that we would pause when the circumstances are hard and ask ourselves if we believe the word of the Lord, receiving the Spirit’s witness of the Father’s care for us in our hearts (Romans 8:15–16).

Again, they do a surprising thing. They send the band out first (2 Chronicles 20:21–22). This is not sound practice for winning a battle. It is sound practice for worship, when you trust the God who has given you a promise. As they begin to sing, the Lord routes the greater, stronger army. Israel praises his name for the great victory.

You might be thinking, How can I worship when it seems like the Lord is not winning the battle that way for me? How can we worship as we march into what seems like overwhelming odds, without a specific word from God about our situation?

The answer is that our victory in Christ is as sure as the victory promised to Judah, if we believe what God has said in Christ. The Bible promises us that, whatever we may face or suffer or lose in this life, those whom God predestined are called, those called are justified, and those justified are glorified. It is certain. Our future is secure. For us “to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21).

Welcome God (and Others)

We can lay down our self-sufficiency, invite others into our fears, and then pray and worship expectantly, knowing that one way or another, our victory is sure. As sure as Judah’s victory over the Moabites and Ammonites.

As my bride and I have walked through our current trial, we’ve felt God lead us to let people into the war with us. And we have been overwhelmed by the prayers and encouragement we have received. Under God, they have sustained us and held up our eyes to Jesus in the midst of what feels, at times, like overwhelming pain and fear.

God will work in and among his people to save and sustain us as we boldly approach him together. He has designed his universe to work this way, so that we are weaned off of self-sufficiency, into fuller dependence on him for everything we need, so that, over and over again, he gets the glory.

Dave Zuleger (@DaveZuleger) serves as lead pastor for Bethlehem Baptist Church, South Campus, in Lakeville, Minnesota, and graduated from Bethlehem College & Seminary. He and his wife, Kelly, have four children.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/when-you-do-not-know-what-to-do

Elisabeth Elliot: "Your Suffering Is Never For Nothing"

Editors’ note:  This is an adapted excerpt from Suffering Is Never for Nothing(B&H Books, 2019).

It’s only in the cross that we can begin to harmonize the seeming contradiction between suffering and love. And we will never understand suffering unless we understand the love of God.

We’re talking about two different levels on which things are to be understood. And again and again in the Scriptures we have what seem to be complete paradoxes because we’re talking about two different kingdoms. We’re talking about this visible world and an invisible kingdom through which the facts of this world are interpreted.

Suffering in Scripture

Take for example the Beatitudes, those wonderful statements of paradox that Jesus gave to the multitudes when he was preaching to them on the mountain (Matt. 5:3–12). He said strange things like this:

How happy are those who know what sorrow means. Happy are those who claim nothing. Happy are those who have suffered persecution. What happiness will be yours when people blame you and ill treat you and say all kinds of slanderous things against you. Be glad then, yes, be tremendously glad.

Does it make any sense at all?

Not unless you see there are two kingdoms: the kingdom of this world and the kingdom of an invisible world. And the apostle Paul understood the difference when he made this stunning declaration. He said, it is now my happiness to suffer for you, my happiness to suffer (Col. 1:24). It sounds like nonsense, doesn’t it? And yet this is God’s Word. Janet Erskine Stuart said, “Joy is not the absence of suffering but the presence of God.”

It’s what the psalmist found in the valley of the shadow of death: “I will fear no evil” (Ps. 23:4). Now the psalmist was not naïve enough to say, “I will fear no evil because there isn’t any.” There is. We live in an evil, broken, twisted, fallen, distorted world. What did he say? “I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

My Suffering

When I stood by my shortwave radio in the jungle of Ecuador in 1956 and heard that my husband, Jim Elliot, was missing, God brought to my mind the words of the prophet Isaiah: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee” (Isa. 43:2). You can imagine that my response was not terribly spiritual. I was saying, “But Lord, you’re with me all the time. What I want is Jim. I want my husband.” We had been married 27 months after waiting five-and-a-half years.

Five days later I knew that Jim was dead. And God’s presence with me was not Jim’s presence. That was a terrible fact. God’s presence didn’t change the terrible fact that I was a widow, and I expected to be a widow until I died because I thought it was a miracle I got married the first time. I couldn’t imagine that I would ever get married a second time, let alone a third. God’s presence didn’t change the fact of my widowhood. Jim’s absence thrust me, forced me, hurried me to God, my hope and my only refuge.

Suffering is an irreplaceable medium through which I learned an indispensable truth: God is God.

And I learned in that experience who God is in a way I could never have known otherwise. And so I can say to you that suffering is an irreplaceable medium through which I learned an indispensable truth: God is God. Well, I still want to go back and say, “But Lord, what about that little child with spina bifida? What about those babies born terribly handicapped, with terrible suffering because their mothers were on cocaine or heroin or alcohol? What about my little Scottie dog, McDuff, who died of cancer at the age of six? What about the Lindbergh baby and the Stams who were beheaded? What about all of that?”

Mystery of Suffering

And I can’t answer your questions, or even my own, except in the words of Scripture, these words from the apostle Paul who knew the power of the cross of Jesus. And this is what he wrote:

For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God” (Rom. 8:18–19).

The creation was made the victim of frustration—all those animals, all those babies who have no guilt whatsoever—not by its own choice, but because of him who made it so; yet always there was hope. And this is the part that brings me immeasurable comfort: The universe itself is to be freed from the shackles of mortality and enter upon the liberty and splendor of the children of God.

Where does this idea of a loving God come from? It is not a deduction. It is not man so desperately wanting a god that he manufactures him in his mind. It’s he who was the Word before the foundation of the world, suffering as a lamb slain. And he has a lot up his sleeve that you and I haven’t the slightest idea about now. He’s told us enough so we can know that suffering is never for nothing.

Elisabeth Elliot was a Christian author and speaker. Her first husband, Jim Elliot, was killed in 1956 while attempting to make missionary contact with the Auca of eastern Ecuador.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/elisabeth-elliot-suffering-never-nothing/

We Can't Grieve However We Want

Article by Ryan Chase

During our first pregnancy, we were overjoyed to learn we were having twin boys. My dreams of fatherhood suddenly doubled as I imagined holding a baby in each arm, watching them learn to walk side by side, wrestling with them on the floor, and coaching their soccer teams.

Subsequent ultrasounds, however, showed that our boys had congenital birth defects. When they were born with crooked joints and extreme muscle weakness, they were immediately intubated. In an instant, a thousand dreams of fatherhood died.

“In an instant, a thousand dreams of fatherhood died.”

Instead of the life we hoped for, we were plunged into round-the-clock intensive care. Three years later we would plant the perishable seed of our son Isaac’s body in a twenty-square-foot plot of dirt at a cemetery called Woodlawn.

When I visit Isaac’s gravesite, waves of sadness often wash over me. I grieve the brevity of his life. I lament that he hasn’t been here to enjoy new experiences with his twin brother Caleb. Then I look at the empty plot we own next to Isaac’s and I dread the day when Caleb will join his brother.

No Wrong Way to Grieve?

“There’s no wrong way to grieve.”

That’s the counsel some popular psychology offers to those who mourn. The only problem is that it’s not true. First Thessalonians 4:13–14 says,

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.

Those who believe in the resurrection of Jesus are decidedly not to grieve in whatever way feels right to us, nor are we to grieve like those who have no hope. Rather, we are called to grieve in ways that make much of Jesus, our glorious Savior who died and rose and is coming again.

“Those who believe in the resurrection of Jesus are decidedly not to grieve in whatever way feels right to us.”

I’m sure those who say there’s no wrong way to grieve truly want to comfort the hurting, but the reality is that we who suffer innocently are not immune to responding sinfully to our pain. We sin in our grief when we use it as an excuse not to love God or those around us, when we complain against God or neglect the people and responsibilities he has called us to.

Pain does not justify sin; only Christ can justify sinners. And in Christ, there is a greater comfort available to the heartbroken than handing us over as slaves to our own emotions.

Occasionally, Weep Deeply

John Piper once offered this counsel to those who mourn:

Occasionally, weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face. Trust God. And embrace the life you have.

That wisdom reminds me of the story of a barren woman named Hannah. Hannah was one of two women married to Elkanah. The other woman had children, but Hannah had none, because God himself had closed her womb (1 Samuel 1:5–6).

For years and years the other wife antagonized Hannah for her barrenness. Understandably, Hannah was deeply distressed and the state of her soul was outwardly visible. Her grief was so intense that she couldn’t eat. Her downcast face mirrored a soul burdened with sorrow.

But Hannah was not only “a woman troubled in spirit” (1 Samuel 1:15). She was also a woman of faith who directed her sorrow toward God: “She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly” (1 Samuel 1:10). These two things can coexist: bitter weeping and prayer, deep distress and supplication, grief and hope.

Wash Your Face

When the soul of the believer is exasperated and woeful, it overflows with cries for help to the God of comfort. Hannah prayed with such angst that Eli the priest thought that she was drunk, but she told him, “I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord. . . . I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation” (1 Samuel 1:15–16). Then Eli blessed her and said, “Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him” (1 Samuel 1:17).

“We sin in our grief when we use it as an excuse not to love God or those around us.”

After that, the text says that Hannah “went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad” (1 Samuel 1:18). Just like that! Absolutely nothing had changed in Hannah’s circumstances, yet her countenance was visibly changed and she went on with life.

She wasn’t pregnant. She had no children. She still had a rival wife who would mercilessly goad her. But she had a word: “Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition.” Hannah’s change wasn’t external or situational. It was internal, and it took place when she clung in faith to a word from God.

Trust God

If your life is not what you hoped, if you have suffered the loss of dreams or health or financial security or career ambitions or loved ones, I can’t guarantee circumstantial changes. We don’t know the secret things of God. But I can point you to the precious and very great promises in Scripture that offer you the same peace Hannah received:

• God promises to hear and answer us when we pray (1 John 5:14–15).

• God promises to satisfy our hearts with joy in him forever (Psalm 16:11).

• God promises to never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).

• God promises to sovereignly rule over every detail of our lives to maximize our delight in Jesus (Romans 8:28; Philippians 4:19).

• God promises to keep us from stumbling so that we stand before him blameless and full of joy (Jude 1:24–25).

Grieve in Hope

I’ve learned that despair wallows in if-onlys and what-ifs; faith dwells in the blood-bought reality that God will wipe away every tear from our eyes (Revelation 21:4). Hopeless grief says, I have lost the only thing that makes life worth living. Hopeful grief magnifies the surpassing worth of God himself and says, Nothing in all the earth can separate me from Christ (Romans 8:38–39).

“We must never let the sound of our own weeping drown out the comfort of God’s word.”TweetShare on Facebook

Don’t misunderstand. Hopeful grief is still grief. It’s not stoic or robotic. When Jesus stood outside of Lazarus’s tomb and wept, he wasn’t faking his tears (John 11:33–36). God incarnate was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, and still he wept over death. The hope of resurrection doesn’t eliminate tears, but it does redeem them.

We weep and mourn and pour out our souls to the Lord in lamentation for all that is wrong in the world. But we must never let the sound of our own weeping drown out the comfort of God’s word. By faith we know that our affliction is momentary, while our glory is eternal (2 Corinthians 4:17–18). “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (Psalm 30:5). We lament for now, but we will rejoice forever.

So, weep before the Lord. Then wash your face and keep walking by faith.

Ryan Chase is a pastor at Emmaus Road Church in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He and his wife Barbara have three sons, two living and one buried in hope of resurrection.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/we-cant-grieve-however-we-want?fbclid=IwAR0e9kD9C97-sJSGSTj4eXxuur58994TX67hXR_xpL3SpLZhN9XQDiAY6Sg

Do Not Regard God's Discipline Lightly

by Kristen Wetherell

I’ve never met a person who said that discipline was pleasant. Parents battle their kid’s temper tantrums with heavy hearts and tears, athletes break their bodies in order to build strength and train for victory, and reckless drivers receive expensive tickets so the roads are kept safe.

Discipline is often painful in the moment, but its rewards are great. This is what the writer of Hebrews was expressing when he cited Proverbs 3:11-12:

My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,

nor be weary when reproved by him.

For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,

and chastises every son whom he receives. (Hebrews 12:5-6)

The Lord’s discipline is a means to our growth in holiness:

For [our earthly fathers] disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but [God] disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. (vv 10-11)

TRAINED BY DISCIPLINE

We are not to regard lightly the discipline God ordains for us; we are to be trained by it. What does this mean? To regard something lightly is to belittle its significance and pass over its intention, to ignore that its purpose is meant to be examined, taken to heart, and leveraged as an instrument for growth. So, to be trained by discipline is to give weight to it, to consider its value, and to ask, “Lord, how would you have me grow through this painful circumstance in order that I would bear your image more fully?”

One of the most frustrating measures of discipline the Lord has exercised in my own life is the painful experience of sleeplessness. Unable to stop my mind from running, I occasionally lay awake for hours on random nights, anticipating the difficulty of the following day and dreading how much exertion it will take to peel myself out of bed in the morning, let alone work and serve effectively hour to hour.

For others, the Lord’s discipline comes in different forms, but it has the same purpose: that we would be trained by it, regarding it with weight, that we may share in God’s holiness with peace.

One important truth we should note is that God’s discipline is not the same as his judgment. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1). The resurrection and ascension of the Son is God’s final stamp of approval over his sacrifice for our sin, and this acceptance stands for all those who put their faith in Christ as their sin-bearing Savior and Lord. The cross of Christ is our assurance that there is no longer any judgment for sin for those who have been covered by the righteousness of Jesus. It is our assurance that all discipline is a carefully ordained measure of God’s love being poured out for us.

Believer, how might the Lord be disciplining you right now? What recent experiences have been painful for you, rather than pleasant? When have you been tempted to grow weary from the exercise of God’s loving, but strict, parenting?

Let’s regard the Lord’s discipline, not lightly, but with humbly submissive attitudes and searching thoughts, with the desire to bear the peaceful fruit of righteousness as we are conformed to the image of Christ. Train yourself to ask the following questions:

“WHAT IS GOD TEACHING ME ABOUT HIMSELF?”

Often, when God disciplines his children, he is training us to take our eyes off ourselves — our own strength, plans, and desires — and to fix them on his character.

Behold, God is my salvation;

I will trust, and will not be afraid;

for the Lord God is my strength and my song,

and he has become my salvation. (Isaiah 12:2)

When circumstances are running smoothly and our own plans are being fulfilled, it is easy to forget the Lord and all he has done in the gospel. God’s discipline gives us a glorious opportunity to mine the depths of his person and work, though we will never understand him completely until we are with him. When we search out his character, we are reminded of his strength, his praiseworthiness, and his salvation. We are reminded that Christ is indeed sufficient for us and all of our weaknesses.

“WHAT IS GOD TEACHING ME ABOUT MYSELF?”

God’s loving discipline often intends to wake us up from the sleep of selfishness and independence that comes so naturally to our flesh. Our attitude of submission can easily turn into presumption when we take our eyes off the character of God and assume that his agenda should be the same as ours.

But, when we are faced with trials and testing, the desires of our hearts are exposed. God uses discipline to weed out that which is earthly within us — our pride, fears, idolatry, and presumptions — in order that we might confess sin, repent of it, and share in his holiness. God in Christ is faithful to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

In Psalm 118, the singer has been awakened through discipline to his sin-bent propensity to rely on earthly things and human ability. He then says,

It is better to take refuge in the Lord

than to trust in man.

It is better to take refuge in the Lord

than to trust in princes. (Psalm 118:8-9)

Through discipline, our loving Father might be teaching us that our trust has been misplaced and that he is the only One who can truly satisfy us. The significance of the cross is magnified, as we realize anew that Christ bore all of our sins in his body on the tree, that we might be free of them and conformed to his image.

“HOW MIGHT GOD BE USING DISCIPLINE TO CONFORM ME TO HIS IMAGE?”

If God’s purpose in discipline is that we might share in his holiness, then we can trust that everything coming from the Lord’s hand is for our good. We can rest in his promise that, in Christ, he is for us, and not against us (Romans 8:32) and, therefore, that even the most severe discipline is rooted in God’s great and steadfast love for his children.

I shall not die, but I shall live,

and recount the deeds of the Lord.

The Lord has disciplined me severely,

but he has not given me over to death. (Psalm 118:17-18)

“HOW MIGHT GOD USE THIS AS A TESTIMONY TO OTHER PEOPLE?”

The way that we respond to the Lord’s discipline is an chance to give a reason for the hope that we have in Christ our Lord. Our natural inclination towards discipline is to grumble and complain, grow bitter and angry, and rely on our own strength. But when the children of God trust that his discipline is loving and for our good, we will respond in trust, peace, and with a deeper hunger to know God through his Word.

This does not mean that we necessarily enjoy our present trials; discipline is rarely a pleasant experience. However, we testify to a greater hope when we lean into our training in righteousness, rather than merely trying to escape it or fight against it. We become living, breathing proof that our eyes are fixed on another world, an eternity with Christ forever.

DISCIPLINE LEADS TO LIFE

This has been difficult to write. While I know all of this is true, my flesh still rebels when discipline comes from God’s hand. I am prone to anger and discouragement, rather than deep trust, joy, and peace in knowing that God is for me and is training me.

Thank God for his grace shown in Christ, for even when our faith fails, God is greater than our hearts! We can confess our sin and weakness and ask him for the faith to submit to whatever discipline he brings for our good. And that is one prayer he loves to answer.

The Lord may discipline us severely, but it will not end in death. It will yield the peaceful fruit of righteousness for those who have not regarded it lightly but have been trained by it.

WHAT IS GOD TEACHING YOU ABOUT HIMSELF, YOUR OWN HEART, AND HOW HE MIGHT BE GROWING YOU?

Editor's Note: This originally published at Unlocking the Bible, and then again at Kristen Wetherell's site. 

Kristen Wetherell

Kristen Wetherell is a writer, Bible teacher, and the content manager of Unlocking the Bible. Her writing has been published on TGC, Crosswalk, and iBelieve and featured at Challies.com. She is married to Brad, loves traveling, and writes music in her spare time. Connect with Kristen at her website or on Twitter @KLWetherell.

Is There Any Hope for Weary Women?

Article by Kimberly Wagner

As I’ve been teaching the book of James to a small group of women on Sunday afternoons, they’ve asked some good questions, and I thought you might like to “get in on” the discussion. I’m so grateful for the women who are digging into the Word with me. These questions surfaced from our focus on James 1:1–12 if you want to read that first for some context.   

Question:

What does steadfast and faithful look like? 

My Response:

Steadfastness is the goal. Steadfastness is produced through our faith being tested and through suffering (James 1:3, Romans 5:3)—neither of which sound like much fun. But the appeal of steadfastness is the glory of reaching a place of victory. Steadfastness is a consistent and joyful endurance that is otherworldly, even supernatural, because it is not something we can produce. Steadfastness is only developed by the grace of God in the crucible of affliction. 

Steadfastness is not an emotional “happiness” or optimistic outlook on dark days. It is not a “Pollyanna” cheerfulness produced from a “name it and claim it” theology or a self-induced positive attitude. Steadfastness is produced through a series of hard falls and failures—but failures followed by repentance and crying out for God’s grace; asking for His help. Steadfastness is the goal. We obtain steadfastness through a long trajectory of pressing on toward that goal, while slogging through seasons of doubt and questioning, but always returning to the source of Truth for help.

Pressing toward steadfastness will definitely include days of weariness, discouragement, self-disgust, doubt, with personal disappointment and embarrassment.

Yes, striving toward steadfastness will include moments, and possibly seasons of doubt—struggling with our view of God, fighting to find a resolution to the crisis of faith we might experience when the crushing blows we receive don’t make sense, when God seems distant and the cruelties of life feel greater than His care for us. But the believer will despair if he stays in that state. That is why James implores us to ask for wisdom; wisdom that is specifically designed for navigating a season of suffering (James 1:5). 

Question:

If I grow weary does that mean that I’m not steadfast?

Does being “steadfast” mean never doubting in weariness?

Never questioning the accuracy of one’s understanding of God or His ways?

Never being in need of encouragement? No feebleness allowed? Only perfection? 

My Response:

James does not say that we won’t doubt, but he provides a compelling contrast between those who endure hardship, in faith, and those who experience the instability and tumultuous consequences of doubt. For the believer, there is usually a mixture of faith and doubt while navigating the rough waters of affliction (James 1:6–8). But the goal is steadfastness. With each test, we have the opportunity to press in to truth, to ask for, and choose, faith. We have the opportunity to trust God in greater ways than before. We have the opportunity to move closer to a consistent walk of steadfastness.   

The Lord knows that we’ll struggle with doubt, that is why the Spirit inspired James to warn us that we need to “ask in faith” and we need God’s grace for that faith. We need His help. We cannot produce the wisdom or the faith to steadfastly endure trials. We need to ask Him for those things. 

The weary believer definitely needs encouragement during seasons of trial. Definitely. I’ve been blessed, this past year and a half, by a friend who is younger than me, but her husband is experiencing a similar trial, and her texts, that are filled with Scripture or words of encouragement letting me know that they are praying for us, have been a true source of comfort. The unexpected gifts of groceries, gift cards, financial donations, and firewood on the porch have been an immeasurable blessing and tangible encouragement.

LeRoy and I have experienced the ministry of encouragement in our difficult season, but sadly, many in the church don’t see the need to personally encourage those who are drowning under what some might consider less “acceptable” struggles—like mental illness, suicidal thoughts, or recurring addictions. 

Some want to avoid the hurting person entirely or approach the broken and needy with the cold message of “Just get it together!” Some preach a “just have faith” message, without compassion or understanding that the road of suffering is hard—no matter how spiritually mature you are, or how much you’re seeking to honor God in the trial. Suffering is hard. And some in the church apparently deny that, or haven’t experienced that kind of real suffering. 

In this life, a believer never reaches the place that they no longer need comfort or encouragement.

The “perfection” of a flawless performance during trial is an unlikely and unrealistic expectation.

But the “perfection” of endurance/steadfastness that produces spiritual maturity is the goal. And along the way of reaching that goal will come failures. These failures are evidence that we need to ask for grace again, we need to ask for help, we need to acknowledge that “faith to endure” and “wisdom in trial”, are things that don’t come naturally. 

Steadfastness can certainly involve reaching out for resources and help—and that might include counseling, or regular conversations with a more mature believer—and that is nothing to be ashamed of. The humble admission that you are in need, is evidence that you desire to continue pressing on in faithfulness—you don’t want to stay in your needy state. Reaching out for help, and having the body walk with the hurting, is the DNA of a healthy Church (Galatians 6:2). We are to bear one another’s burdens, and not look at a broken or needy sister in disgust with the message to “Just grow up!” Feebleness is allowed, even expected, when facing a brutal trial.

Question:

What’s the line between faithfulness and unfaithfulness, steadfastness and non steadfast? 

My Response:

I don’t think we have Scriptural evidence for a distinct and clear line that we can draw between faithfulness and unfaithfulness—unless that line would be rejecting God’s truth. But, even in seeking to know if there is a line, indicates your desire to know and understand God’s ways, rather than just all out rejecting Him. And the contrast between steadfastness and “non steadfastness” is not so much a line, but a process that will, at times, include both. If this year, I’m striving to “walk with endurance” and respond to this trial with steadfastness, but I’m not actually as faithful or consistent as I will be next year . . . does that mean that I’m not steadfast right now? Am I more steadfast now than I was at this time last year while walking through the same trial? 

There will be bumps and falls along the way, but what is your trajectory? Are you continuing to cry out to God for help to walk faithfully . . . and steadfastly? That might be the “line” you’re talking about. The line of willingness to ask God for help, rather than trying to manage it on your own.

Question:

Is there even hope for one who is profoundly weary, re-evaluating her understanding of God and His ways, desperately in need of encouragement (all of which seems to be the antithesis of faithfulness/steadfast) to be deemed faithful?

My Response:

There is hope. Oh, precious friend, yes—there is hope! The hope is found in viewing our suffering through the lens of the cross. The cross provides us with the perspective to endure, to develop steadfastness, to experience a fellowship with Christ that is only possible in trial. 

Far too often, I’m guilty of presenting a simplistic picture of what it looks like to follow Christ or to walk by faith. I fear that, as I attempt to communicate the majestic truths of Scripture, there is no nuance or consideration of the enormous trials or difficulties that another woman may be facing. And she is left feeling hopeless and that she could never approach the life of faithfulness that Scripture presents. If that is you today, dear reader, know that He sees, He knows, and He cares. He sees your pain and struggle, He understands that you are weak and needy, He remembers that we are but flesh, and He cares for you. 

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation.” (1 Peter 4:12–13)

Posted at: http://www.kimberlywagner.org/?p=7428