Happy Thanksgiving! As our South African turkey roasts in
the oven, the electricity cuts out and I turn the oven back on once again, I
have time to remember these last months of God's provision, God's timing and
God's sufficiency. I am grateful to be without constant pain. When I returned
in September, I was tired most of the day; the result of a painful cervical
spine injury, unresponsive to heat and medication and a lack of restorative
sleep. I had enough energy to complete my physical therapy, read and pray.
Driving to the store, shopping and making meals were arduous and exhausting. I
read Nancy Guthrie's book Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow twice and began Chip Ingrim's Invisible War (on spiritual warfare). I
felt I was under attack. I listened for God's still small voice hoping for
victory, healing and understanding.
In Matthew 26:30 Jesus says, "Father, If it is possible
let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. Yet I want your will to be
done, not mine." I wanted to wake up one day completely healed. When this
did not happen I prayed to be like Jesus who "learned obedience from the
things he suffered." Hebrews 5:7-9. Ironically, for years I had Philippians
3:10 posted on the website at Lawndale as my favorite verse. (I want to know
Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his
sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow to attain to the
resurrection from the dead). I assumed fellowship of sharing in his sufferings might
mean personal suffering (physical, emotional), engaging with those in the world
who suffer (poverty, abuse, illness...) or spiritual persecution.
Unremitting pain and purposelessness took me back to the
garden of Eden to be tempted by the Evil One. I asked the question Eve
struggled with, Is God really good? Can he be trusted? I was devastated to imagine if He really
loved me He would withhold meaning and purpose from my life. But perhaps my
understanding of meaning and significance were the problem. I realized I had lived
and directed my life from the philosophy to whom much is given much is
required. I assumed that since I had been given much (education; a Master's in
International Health Education, special training in Christian Counseling, extra
training in Community Health and an MD) that much would be required. I was
ready to serve and minister but not ready to suffer, to be still and do nothing
I valued. After all my hard work and
dedication I realized God didn't "owe me" anything. I had an attitude
of entitlement, surely after all these years of study and training and
preparation I would have something of significance to do for God.
These last few months have been a lesson in waiting. I heard
God saying, "If I ask you to sit and praise me in your pain will you do
that? If that's all I ever ask you to do, will you do that for Me?" I
thought I could tolerate the pain and even remain thankful as long as I could
still do something useful, something worthwhile, even when I had no energy to
think of what that might be. As I have gotten better, I have continued to
struggle when people ask me, "What do you do?" God asked me during
this time of waiting, If you never get to use any of those skills and
talents... will you worship me with joy not resignation? So like Abraham I have
been trying to put it on the altar, tie it down and kill it.
I still struggle to surrender
to God in faithful obedience to the life/testing that He has given but believe
that this is an important part of what it means to develop Christ likeness. To
suffer well is to endure with confidence whatever God asks us to endure
believing that even if we cannot see the purpose, He does. As Nancy Guthrie
puts it "It takes great faith to say to God, 'Even if you don't heal me or
the one I love, even if you don't change my circumstances, even if you allow me
to lose what is most precious to me. I will still love you and obey you and
believe that you are good.'" Becoming like him in his death (Phil 3:10)most
significantly means "Your will, not mine" Surrender, obedience, submission.
When Miriam was in preschool we were driving in wintry weather
and hit a pot hole and popped a tire. I exclaimed in frustration, "Miriam
we have a flat tire and we have to pray" (I had never changed a tire and
the slush and cold looked formidable) Miriam dutifully bowed her head and said,
"Thank you God for the flat tire!" I was flabbergasted. No we were
not thankful for the flat tire, what was she saying? But then I realized she
was right we are told to be thankful all times. A lesson to remember for Thanksgiving!
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