He leadeth me, he leadeth me;
By his own hand he leadeth me:
His faithful follower I would be,
For by his hand he leadeth me.
Sometimes mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s flowers bloom,
By waters calm, o’er troubled sea,
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.
(J. H. Gilmore, 1862)
Today morning, I came across a video of a Christian doctor talking about his long term patient – Miss CJ. He talks about how Miss CJ was a lady who had had six previous cancers. On that day, she was sent to his office because she had a large right neck mass. After performing a biopsy, the doctor was faced with the task of explaining to Miss CJ that the cancer had returned.
Miss CJ was silent on hearing the news. But before he could tell her what she needed to do, she asked him if he would mind if they prayed. When he expressed no objection, she bowed her head and prayed these simple words:
“Lord, do it one more time. Amen.”
Incredulously, the doctor looked up at her. Looking back at him, she said, “Doc, six times I’ve had cancer. Six times I’ve been cancer free. I know the Lord and the Lord knows me. I don’t need to pray a long prayer – I just need to pray the right prayer.”
Looking at this story being told over a forwarded message on WhatsApp today morning, I was almost moved to tears. I have been struggling so hard that past months coming to terms with Anna’s often overwhelming condition, that I decided to stop writing on this blog. My reasoning was – Why write about the things of faith when I cannot in good conscience say that my faith is unassailable?
However, something has changed in the past weeks. When we are honest with our weaknesses before God, He invariably leads us on a path that teaches us His heart on the matter. As a gentle shepherd leads his flock, without driving them too hard, He expertly knows the path that will yield the most results with the most grace. So, what has changed in me?
In a word, perspective.
Many of you might be familiar with Elisabeth Eliiot – a remarkable woman of God. Her first husband, Jim Elliot, whom she waited for five years to marry, was killed in 1956 (just two years after getting married) while attempting to make missionary contact with the Auca people in eastern Ecuador. After thirteen years, in 1969, she married Addison Leith, her second husband, who died of cancer three years later.
In the time that followed, she was contacted by a young family who were struggling with their four-year-old child who had spina bifida. To add to their pain, the doctors found out that their second child, who was still in the womb, also had spina bifida. On hearing this, Elisabeth Elliot states: “When I hear stories like that, it’s what makes me think that my own experience of suffering is very little at all.”
The past three weeks, the Lord has directed my attention to stories like this – people who have it way worse than I do. While I was deeply saddened to go to a hospital yet again for Anna’s skin condition, I only got as far as the elevator when God spoke to me. The elevator carried a sign in big block letters announcing which wards were on each floor – the intensive care unit, the cancer ward, and the like. How could I remain in my despondency when there were children battling for their lives a floor away? They could certainly benefit from my prayers. Me losing my grip over something insignificant compared to what they are going through would do precious little to help them.
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 42: 5)
As the old hymn written by G. A. Young goes,
In shady, green pastures, so rich and so sweet,
God leads His dear children along;
Where the water’s cool flow bathes the weary one’s feet,
God leads His dear children along.
Some through the waters, some through the flood,
Some through the fire, but all through the blood;
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,
In the night season and all the day long.
Though sorrows befall us and evils oppose,
God leads His dear children along;
Through grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes,
God leads His dear children along.
Through all of this, I have learned, that God can take my pain. When Mary and Martha cried over the death of their brother, Jesus wept too. Why did he weep? Was it because Lazarus was dead? Certainly not, for He knew what was about to transpire – Lazarus would be miraculously raised from the dead as a sign to the people. Jesus wept because he was so moved by the pain of the sisters. My Lord is compassionate. He knows my faith is frail. Men and women of God who have demonstrated to have great faith got there by going through the furnace of affliction. Nobody had great faith bestowed on them. Not unlike a muscle, faith gets stronger the more it is used – the more we see the arm of God in our circumstances.
As we work towards that kind of faith, it’s okay if you feel great heartache and anguish for things that seem insignificant in the face of other suffering. Each one’s suffering is unique to them and we need tailor-made grace to face our circumstances in faith. The Bible understands this – “Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can fully share its joy” (Proverbs 14:10). It’s okay to cry and to take the broken pieces of your heart to God. Don’t feel like you need to put on a brave front and pretend that you are okay. In doing so, you will only succeed in sweeping the broken pieces under the rug – where there is no hope for restoration. In Christ, all things are renewed and made new. He alone mends broken vessels and has special uses for cracked pots. In the arms of the potter, you will find your purpose and be made whole.
Your pain and suffering is not for naught. It’s valid. It serves a unique purpose in the grand purpose of His plan.
In the meantime, when He directs your focus upon others who are going through far worse, pray for them. Let God strengthen your own faith so that your pain becomes God’s megaphone to a suffering world. “Our pain gives us a platform. The question becomes then, what am I saying to the world in the midst of my pain? Do I let my faith become the product of my circumstances or is God still good even if my circumstances are not? The scope of his character and grace do not change when suffering comes. As I trust God, even in my heartache, I let my life speak of a hope that extends well beyond what we can see or touch.” (Daniel Ritchie)
Be of good cheer, dearly beloved.
Weeping may last for the night but joy comes in the morning. Look away from your troubles and look up to Him. Lift up your eyes to the hills from where your help comes. Your help comes from the Lord your God, the maker of heaven and earth. Thank God that He is in charge of every circumstance in your life. You are never given over to chaos. God has all the days planned for you written in His book. He will lead you through the storms of life.
Indeed, blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too (2 Corinthians 1: 3-5). Amen.
1 comment
Oh! What a thought about suffering! There is pain in suffering. Jesus is the balm of Gilead,He is our comforter and deliverer.
Spreading the Aroma of Christ and Christian living ,through your writing is commendable Eva.Much love Eva
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