Saturday, February 26, 2011

Pain and becoming more like Christ

Trying to keep up with "life" in general is difficult at best.  Or is it just me?  Sometimes I actually have time to browse good blogs and find things to share.

Marie, over at Theo Geek, has posted an excellent article by Lucy Ann Moll, titled, Why God Allows Pain.  Here is an excerpt:

The No. 1 question? If God can prevent suffering yet permits it, is he truly good? In short, the answer is “yes.” The secular worldview holds that seeking pleasure is the goal of this life, so suffering is bad for it is painful. Do anything to get pleasure! In contrast, the Christian worldview sees suffering as positive for through it we become more like Christ, the goal of his disciples. Our suffering is for our ultimate good.

In 1 Peter 1:6‐7 says, “In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”

Lucy continues later with:
What I’ve concluded from the book of Job is suffering happens to everyone, the godly and the ungodly. Suffering is a fact in our fallen world. Just because one lives a holy life doesn’t mean she can avoid suffering. In fact, suffering is probably more likely. Suffering doesn’t often make sense. It is painful.

You will want to check out the whole article which is extremely encouraging to those who are suffering and to those whom we come alongside who are suffering.  Doesn't this include all of us?

Friday, February 25, 2011

You are a real somebody

"Women who prioritize raising their children have no reason to feel inadequate to anyone.  They've got our greatest natural resource on their laps.  And there is absolutely nothing to regret; there's everything to love and enjoy.  That's life in the real world." (Kathryn Lopez, "Stay-at-home Moms are the Real World", Townhall.com, 12/18/10)

I was raised in a small town with a wonderful mother who stayed home.  She was there for each of her children.  She was a loving and compassionate example for me.  Even so, the "woman's movement" snuck into our lives through TV and magazines and affected me in subtle ways for many decades to come.

I also loved being a stay-at-home mother.  I loved raising my children through every age, but still, in all those years in the very back of my mind was the idea that I should be out in a career.  This thinking seemed to always be pestering me.  Deep inside I felt I was not being fulfilled.  This "woman's movement" affected me in outward ways, also, that would only fuel my own wrong thinking.

One example is from when I was a young mother with little ones.  We had moved to a new town and eventually we stopped in at the public library to sign up for library cards.  My beloved husband signed up first with no problems and then it was my turn.  I gave my ID, which was my driver's license.  The librarian asked me for my employment ID also.  I said that I didn't have a job outside the home.  His next loud comment was, "Don't you even have a student ID?"  I was incredulous at first, and then I was fuming at how I had been treated, as if I was a complete nobody with only one source of ID because we had chosen for me to remain home to raise our children.

Well, this wrong thinking which was sometimes fueled by the culture, took me decades to stop.  I grieve that wasted time I spent lamenting even if it was only in my mind.

"Humans are not nothing.  We are the result of God's creation; what is more, we are the apex of that creation.  Trying to persuade ourselves that we are nothing carries two terrible risks.  One is that we laugh at the absurdity of thinking such fine creatures as ourselves to be nothing and we abandon the attempt to find humility.  The second risk is even worse:  We may actually come to believe that we really are nothing.  And if we are really nothing, then none of our actions could possibly mean anything either, could they? So why worry what we do?  If humans are nothing, then nothing matters.

Humility is attainable but not through considering ourselves to be utterly worthless.  Anyone who lives responsibly, and invests his time in durable values rather than in the frivolous pursuit of fun, has achieved something.  Such a person is not nothing.  The key to humility is not to denigrate what you have become, but rather to renounce any credit for it.  You are a real somebody.  To begin with, you are utterly unique.  You have thoughts that nobody else has ever had.  You have dedicated yourself to more than your own gratification.  You have supported your spouse.  You have labored faithfully at a job.  You are raising good children.  You have added to your store of knowledge about the world. No, you are nowhere near being nothing.  You are somebody!"  (Rabbi Daniel Lapin, America's Real War, page 70)

Dear gentle women, let us remove our own worldly thinking with the LORD's help.  Let us be godly women who gently counsel other women to understand who they really are in Christ.  If you were, or you are a mother who makes a home for your family as a career, then you can be thankful and humbly proud of your career choice.

“But you are A CHOSEN RACE, a royal PRIESTHOOD, A HOLY NATION, A PEOPLE FOR GOD’S OWN POSSESSION, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; for you once were NOT A PEOPLE, but now you are THE PEOPLE OF GOD; you had NOT RECEIVED MERCY, but now you have RECEIVED MERCY.” 1 Peter 2:9-10

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Grieving with others

"A little girl lost a playmate in death and one day reported to her family that she had gone to comfort the sorrowing mother.  "What did you say?"  asked her father.  "Nothing," she replied.  "I just climbed up on her lap and cried with her."

"Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep."  Romans 12:15

This life is full of troubles.  We do not have to wait long at all for pain and sadness to enter into our lives or touch us through our circle of family and friends.  As godly women we want to be able to respond in grace and mercy with great compassion as bad things happen.  It is somewhat easier to respond in practical ways like helping with children, making meals, lending a hand in any way.  But what do we do when everything practical is taken care of?  How can we "help" when there is nothing for us to do physically?

Well, first of all, we tend to forget or marginalize how powerful PRAYER is.  The Father hears our cries, counts our tears, comforts, and works in so many ways in the lives of others and in us as we pray.  Long range continual prayer is difficult when we do not see any changes.  This is when perseverance is important and, really, we can only do this with the LORD's strength.  It is easy to give up and become frustrated because ~~~it seems like~~~nothing is happening. 

Oh, what joy when in glory we will discover the outcomes of our fervent prayers!

Meanwhile, how do we weep with those who weep? Or mourn with those who mourn?

I have grieved deeply in my life.  I know the agony that never ends.  I understand the deep feelings which are those groanings that only the Holy Spirit can interpret.  I know what comfort it is when others are there to console you and later to encourage you.

I have been deeply loved and comforted by those the LORD has brought to us.  I have also experienced those dear people who try to grieve and comfort, but instead they fall so short that they unintentionally hurt you more.  And I know how it is to seemingly be forgotten in my agony as time marches on, when in actuality people really do care and pray - they just do not know how to express it to you.

Even though I know and have experienced all these things and more, I can also respond incorrectly with those who are in very much pain.  I may show great mercy and compassion when needed 99% of the time, but it is the 1% when I have said the wrong things, or have forgotten to pray, or be there for the mourner, that discourage me; for I know what that feels or sounds like when this has happened to me.

Gentle women, let us never stop trying to walk compassionately alongside those who mourn.  We may be the hands and feet of the LORD to touch their brokenness so that they can see the LORD has not forgotten them.  Each new week let us think of who we may have temporarily forgotten in their suffering, and in some way come alongside them to encourage them. 

"Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary.   So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especailly to those who are of the household of faith."  Galatians 6:9-10

Pain humbles, softens, melts.....

"Pain humbles the proud.  It softens the stubborn.  It melts the hard.  Silently and relentlessly, it wins battles deep within the lonely soul.  The heart alone knows its own sorrow, and not another person can fully share in it.  Pain operates alone;  it needs no assistance.  It communicates its own message whether to statesman or servant, preacher or prodigal, mother or child.  By staying, it refuses to be ignored.  By hurting, it reduces its victim to profound depths of anguish.  And it is at that anguishing point that the sufferer either submits and learns, developing maturity and character;  or resists and becomes embittered, swamped by self-pity, smothered by self-will."  (Killing Giants/Pulling Thorns by Swindoll, page 56)

Gentle women....our lives are full of pain in many forms.  Let us seek the LORD's face, crying out to Him for strength so that we may choose to submit and learn thus developing godly maturity and character.  May we glorify Him as we choose to do next things for Him!

Guests

Pain knocked upon my door and said
that she had come to stay,
And though I would not welcome her
But bade her go away,
She entered in.
Like my own shade
She followed after me,
And from her stabbing, stinging sword
No moment was I free.
And then one day another knocked
Most gently at my door.
I cried, "No, Pain is living here,
There is not room for more."
And then I heard His tender voice,
"Tis I, be not afraid."
And from the day He entered in,
The difference it made!

by Martha Snell Nicholson