Christian Identity

Comfort in Times of Suffering

It was after high school that I realised I didn’t have any great suffering in my life. No trauma, no major griefs. Other people had, but I had been spared that in my younger years. It stayed that way for another decade. When other people spoke of their stories, I half-whispered my lack of suffering, afraid of awakening the inevitable, but also aware that I need not be afraid.

I hit my late twenties and I couldn’t say that any more. Sooner or later we all experience trials, challenges, uncanny losses. We weep, we question, we go through searing pain or grief.

For me it was a diagnosis. One day I will write more about that. Suffice it to say, it has affected years of my life. It still affects me today.

Life is hard.

And

God is great.

In His perfect wisdom and sovereignty, God allowed even this.

I can look back and say I am thankful. Thankful for the journey, the doctors, the Scriptures, the supportive community around me, the sense of God’s presence in moments here and there. Yes, I am even thankful for the suffering and the disease itself because of the refining journey it led me on.

It’s easier to be thankful in hindsight, when we may have some idea of what God was forming in us. But how about mid-trial? In the moment of disappointing news or the middle of treatment.

Trusting God in the middle of suffering

About six weeks ago our laptop broke and it was going to take about a month to fix. For a writer that’s a long time, but the timing was curious.

I had just been reading about God’s sovereignty over our circumstances, and it was as though the Holy Spirit highlighted that thought for me. God is sovereign over our circumstances. We can fight against them – and find ourselves fighting against Him – or we can trust Him to work out His good purposes even in our suffering.

I managed to surrender my anger over the broken laptop and trust God. In the end the time went as smoothly as it possibly could. Friends lent us a laptop for the whole month. I had to reset several passwords, but I gained more than I lost: I gained a greater trust in God.

While our laptop was still in for repair, I applied to be part of a mentoring group under an author I respect and admire. I was so sure the opportunity was from God. The timing seemed supernatural. I was certain I would get in. Except I didn’t.

I cried. I was so disappointed. And then the Holy Spirit reminded me:

In His perfect wisdom and sovereignty, God allowed even this.

And so I thanked Him. I thanked God that I did not get into the group. Strange I know, but it was from a genuine heart. Maybe one day I will be able to tell you a wonderful ending to this story. I’m still in the middle of it.

Even this

What is your “even this”?

A tragedy? An unmet desire? I don’t know, but God does. He knows every detail and He is with you.

In His perfect wisdom and sovereignty, God allowed even this.

Suffering is inevitable, but how will we suffer? What will come out of us? Will it be sweet wine, or bitter? Pure oil, or rancid?

There are several Bible verses that refer to God testing us. (See Proverbs 17:3, Isaiah 48:10, Jeremiah 17:10.) He doesn’t expect high school math from a kindergartener; He builds on our faith little by little. Do you trust Me in this? And what about in this?

And all of heaven rejoices when we reply:

Yes God, in my faltering fragility, I trust you in even this.

What good could come of this suffering?

I don’t mean to say that God ordains evil. He doesn’t. But He uses suffering and evil to transform us into the glorious image of His Son, Jesus Christ.

Paul says that God set the times and the circumstances of nations – of each one of us – so that we would seek Him (Acts 17:26-27). God will use everything – yes, even this – to draw us closer to Him.

We can come to the place where we say that it is an honour to be trusted with this specific hardship. Grieve it? Yes. Weep? For sure. But our hearts remain steadfast because we trust in God’s goodness and sovereignty.

“You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You” (Isaiah 26:3).

When fear looms large, anger knocks at our door, regrets surface, or we find ourselves second guessing our actions, we return our thoughts to God. Like the Psalmist, we praise God with all our soul for His love and faithfulness, and then we ask Him for help (Psalm 108).

Comfort from those who have walked this way before

I pray that during your hardship, the Holy Spirit highlights a Scripture or a thought or image for you – as though it was written just for you in this moment. Personal revelation like that is a gift that can never be taken from you.

I have been greatly comforted and encouraged by the words of an old hymn, and I play it when I need to be reminded. I’ve pasted the lyrics below.

May God meet with you in this moment, for to meet with Him is what we are all longing for.

Sandi

Be still my soul

(I love this version but it excludes verse 3.)

1 Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side;
bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
in every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heav’nly Friend
through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

2 Be still, my soul; thy God doth undertake
to guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

3 Be still, my soul; when dearest friends depart,
and all is darkened in the veil of tears,
then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay
from His own fullness all He takes away.

4 Be still, my soul; the hour is hast’ning on
when we shall be forever with the Lord,
when disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
all safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Author: Kathrina von Schlegel

Translator: Jane Borthwick