Even in knowing these truths, as a parent my instinct is to do whatever I can to protect my kids from suffering. And what a natural instinct it is! Just the other day, my son asked a couple of kids who were playing outside if he could join them in their game. He hadn't done this before and confided in me that although he really wanted to meet them, he was a little nervous.
I told him he had nothing to lose. And come on. He's my kid - the greatest kid ever! Who would reject him? Definitely went too far with that boost of confidence.
I watched the whole thing go down: "I'm Jrod. I think you guys would really like me, so can I play with you?"
They laughed....at him. And then they all went inside. And that's just about the time when my momma bear alter ego kicked in (this ones hard to control - you know what I'm talking about, moms). My heart controlled my whole body and I went running toward the house.
Thankfully rationality kicked in and I considered what in the world I was going to do once I got there. Kick down the door? I imagined it, don't get me wrong, but really. So, I stopped running as my son walked toward me, head down.
"They don't want to play with me mom; they went inside."
I immediately told him that this happens to everyone. It happened to me in sixth grade. Whether the poor kid wanted to hear the story or not, and he really didn't, I traveled back to sixth grade recess:
I was chosen last....last!....for a kickball game. And even then, the punky little captain (my memory; probably a really sweet kid), said only begrudgingly that she'd take me.
As I was reminiscing with my boy, something profound occurred to me: I remember that scenario like it was yesterday. I remember very clearly being hurt. In my little sixth grade way, I suffered.
There was nothing specific that I remember learning at the time through that experience, but I remember it and I remember it was tough.
And yet, I'm past it. I can smile about it....minus the punk kid....I was torn up for days over that dumb situation, but I needed it. Maybe it was humility God was teaching me. God, who had my path already totally planned out, included suffering for my good. And so I praise him for it and for the many other times that I have suffered and felt the pains of this life.
None-the-less, when my son spotted another couple of boys a few days later, my response to his inquiry about seeking out their friendship was quite different.
I have to admit. I kind of discouraged it. Because everything in me wanted to protect him from another rejection. I told him his sisters were just as fun as those boys.
Was that really the best I could come up with? I was watching my girls in the kitchen painting their nails.
So, I took my statement back and simply warned him that the boys may not be totally nice to him, but to go for it. When he left, in his second attempt to avoid nail polish and Barbie princess pop star for the morning, I realized how quickly I tried to keep him from potential pain. And why? Because I didn't want him to feel it. And why? Because it hurts me to see. And yet, God's Word talks about suffering from beginning to end. We won't avoid the storms, and neither will our children.
Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance...
My son experienced in a small way the difficulty that life can bring, and he will continue to do so time and time again. I can't stop it, and I can't avoid it for his sake.
But as I've reflected in the last couple of days, I know that the difficulties and trials that he faces will make him into the man who God wants him to be. And beyond this amazing truth, they will prepare him for what he may face in the future. They will allow him to empathize, sympathize, befriend, and trust.
One of the most beautiful things I've experienced is listening to the testimony of a believer who has suffered greatly and can express the clarity of God's hand all along the way. This is our reality as believers through suffering - that we can experience God's grace and mercy in the midst of suffering, which allows us to know, with all our heart, that we are not in control, but confirms that God truly is.
I remember about two months before my dad passed away, I found my husband in the basement working on his computer. When I inquired about his work, he reluctantly told me that my dad had asked him to begin working on his funeral service.
To say I went a bit crazy would be an understatement. I wasn't ready to face that reality and trying to imagine his life being over was too much, too unbearable, and created such anxiety in me that I began fearing what the last days might look like.
In my inability to trust and not control, I created unnecessary anxiety for several months. It's the anticipation of the unknown that causes us to doubt, fear, and lose trust in the one who created us.
In the moments that my dad took his last breath, God was there. He was ever present and perfectly in control. My family could sense it in a powerful way. And there is no doubt that in the moments after he went home, God bottled up my dad's tears and welcomed him into paradise.
Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? ...
Not long ago, my mom was diagnosed with a degenerative disease. The ugliness of the disease makes me long for heaven. And I know my mom does too. And when she can't speak anymore, I know the Lord will still hear her praises. And one day her savior will bottle up her tears as well as He welcomes her into his glorious kingdom.
But here's what's even more amazing: We're promised not only that God will carry us through our suffering, whether it's a young child's rejection or a grown ups tears over pain and illness, but we're also promised eternal rest one day. We have the promise of a new heaven and new earth with no suffering and no tears; it will be perfection.
And as amazing and blessed as this life can be, without the suffering, we often forget from whose hand we take the lead and fail to remember where it is that we're ultimately headed.
The link below is to a song that I recently listened to. It had an impact on me as did the words of John Piper's godly instruction in the middle.
Though you slay me
Yet I will praise you
Though you take from me
I will bless your name
Though you ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who’s all I need
Yet I will praise you
Though you take from me
I will bless your name
Though you ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who’s all I need
He's all we need, He's all we need. No matter what we face, He's all we need. And so in the midst of suffering - no matter how great or small - I will praise Him.
