For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls. You have not yet resisted to bloodshed, striving against sin. And you have forgotten the exhortation which speaks to you as to sons: “My son, do not despise the chastening of the LORD, Nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Him; For whom the LORD loves He CHASTENS, And SCOURGES every son whom He receives.” (Hebrews 12:3-6, NKJV).
I really wish sometimes that I could use words like some photographers capture an image. I also often wish that my words did not reveal so much about how I think and feel, or rather, that they served as more of a disguise of who I really am underneath the public-facing facade. I am convinced that what I should REALLY desire in this vein is to BE different, but that is, sadly, a slow work in progress. I say all this as a prologue apology for what I am about to write.
What do you do when life hands you a dumpster of raw sewage? Or worse, pushes you in? Or worse yet, forces you to live in it for days? Or weeks? Or decades?
I once attended a funeral and was an overnight guest at a crowded family member's house afterward where everyone came down with food poisoning. Gastrointestinal sickness abounded in all its multitudinous forms. Then the septic system backed up.
Not long afterward, I single-handedly made presentable a room where a headshot suicide had taken place. The body was four days baking in an upstairs bedroom with no air conditioning during a hot summer weekend. The caliber of the weapon was large. The carnage wide-spread. It was about 10:00 PM when I started. I finished well after sunrise.
As bad as these things might seem, they are not nearly the worse things that have happened in my life. Or even the most messy. In fact, looking back, I view them as kind of heroic, or at least as an opportunity for manly stoicism. And that's my point. Sometimes, bad things, the Bible calls them trials and tribulations, make us grow, or give us much needed perspective, or make us thankful when they are all over and the smell is finally gone.
No, by far the worst things in my life have to do with soul-shredding anxiety over myself and my family, especially my children. Or with inconsolable regret over something I did or can't do. Or with being so terrified that my heart is about to explode. And sometimes the worse trials involve not what is actually happening, but what COULD happen.
So, back to the question: what do you do?
I can't answer that for someone outside the faith. Not really. Because the many things I could say to a follower of Christ, I could NOT say to an unbeliever.
To a child of God, I could assure them "…that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18, NKJV). I could, with quiet joy, remind them that "…we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28, NKJV).
But to someone who does not possess Christ as Lord and Savior, what can really be said? "However bad this is, it is nothing compared to an eternity in torment?" Not even I would be heartless enough to voice that thought out loud. The only hope for an unbeliever is to become a believer. And if the trial in view accomplishes that purpose, then praise the God of Heaven for His mercy. Otherwise, pain and suffering and fear and sorrow are without meaning. Better not to have been born (Mt 26:24).
Which brings me, a child of God by faith, to the main point of what I'm trying to convey. The one thought, the one truth, the one avenue of comfort from crushing loss, or fear, or pain for me is this: I am not in control. God is.
I really wish sometimes that I could use words like some photographers capture an image. I also often wish that my words did not reveal so much about how I think and feel, or rather, that they served as more of a disguise of who I really am underneath the public-facing facade. I am convinced that what I should REALLY desire in this vein is to BE different, but that is, sadly, a slow work in progress. I say all this as a prologue apology for what I am about to write.
What do you do when life hands you a dumpster of raw sewage? Or worse, pushes you in? Or worse yet, forces you to live in it for days? Or weeks? Or decades?
I once attended a funeral and was an overnight guest at a crowded family member's house afterward where everyone came down with food poisoning. Gastrointestinal sickness abounded in all its multitudinous forms. Then the septic system backed up.
Not long afterward, I single-handedly made presentable a room where a headshot suicide had taken place. The body was four days baking in an upstairs bedroom with no air conditioning during a hot summer weekend. The caliber of the weapon was large. The carnage wide-spread. It was about 10:00 PM when I started. I finished well after sunrise.
As bad as these things might seem, they are not nearly the worse things that have happened in my life. Or even the most messy. In fact, looking back, I view them as kind of heroic, or at least as an opportunity for manly stoicism. And that's my point. Sometimes, bad things, the Bible calls them trials and tribulations, make us grow, or give us much needed perspective, or make us thankful when they are all over and the smell is finally gone.
No, by far the worst things in my life have to do with soul-shredding anxiety over myself and my family, especially my children. Or with inconsolable regret over something I did or can't do. Or with being so terrified that my heart is about to explode. And sometimes the worse trials involve not what is actually happening, but what COULD happen.
So, back to the question: what do you do?
I can't answer that for someone outside the faith. Not really. Because the many things I could say to a follower of Christ, I could NOT say to an unbeliever.
To a child of God, I could assure them "…that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18, NKJV). I could, with quiet joy, remind them that "…we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28, NKJV).
But to someone who does not possess Christ as Lord and Savior, what can really be said? "However bad this is, it is nothing compared to an eternity in torment?" Not even I would be heartless enough to voice that thought out loud. The only hope for an unbeliever is to become a believer. And if the trial in view accomplishes that purpose, then praise the God of Heaven for His mercy. Otherwise, pain and suffering and fear and sorrow are without meaning. Better not to have been born (Mt 26:24).
Which brings me, a child of God by faith, to the main point of what I'm trying to convey. The one thought, the one truth, the one avenue of comfort from crushing loss, or fear, or pain for me is this: I am not in control. God is.
