Suffering is an unavoidable part of our Christian experience.
In James 1:2 we read, "Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds." Notice James didn't say IF you encounter trials; he said, WHEN you encounter trials.
Trials and testings seem to be a normal part of the Christian life. Our job is to be ready and able to handle the testings with God's help, secure in the knowledge of his care and ultimate delivery. One night several years ago I awoke with a jolt. "What is it, Lord?" Something in my spirit wasn't right. As the father of four married children and a grandfather to ten, my immediate thoughts were, "Is it one of the kids? Grandkids?"
No, that wasn't it. It was something else.
My mouth felt dry. I had the distinct impression from the Lord that something frightening was headed my way.
Slipping out of bed, I retreated to my prayer corner in the living room and prayed my favorite crisis prayer: "O God, O God, O God."
I opened the Bible expecting the Lord not only to comfort me, but to reveal the nature of this dire warning. He led me to Psalm 33. I read verse 18: "But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love." The next verse perplexed me: "...to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine."
I'm certainly not starving, I thought-at the time I weighed 280 pounds. And I didn't think I was going to die.
I read the rest of the psalm: "We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name. May your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord, even as we put our hope in you."
I relaxed and let out a sigh, relieved to be reminded that he was in charge. God had gotten his message across, though I didn't know what the message was all about. Seven days later my doctor told me I had cancer.
When I began radiation treatment for my cancer, I discovered what it was like to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. As I spent weeks without eating solid food, I began to realize that the physical and emotional trauma coming my way could only be met by taking the hand of the Lord and walking with him.
Even so, being led through the valley of the shadow is frightening. Its uncertainties keep you alert to every changing scenario. I began to cling to every nuance of the doctors' words, shrugs, and grimaces; I experienced the full range of emotions that go with a life-threatening illness. I wept as I saw my utter need to depend on God. The fear of the unknown often gripped me. I had to embrace the truth that I could not control or plan my life.
Some Christians believe we should never struggle with doubt, fear, anxiety, disillusionment, depression, sorrow or agony. And when Christians do, it is because they're not exercising the quality of faith they ought to-periods of disillusionment and despair are sin.
If those ideas are true, then I am not a good Christian. Not only have I suffered physically with health problems, but I also spent a great deal of time struggling with depression during my battle with cancer.
But I also found that the view from the valley gave me a focus on Christ that I wouldn't have gained any other way.
During that year of treatment, my wife, Carol, and I made the trips to the hospital together. It was in the radiation treatment waiting room that I experienced God's peace transcending my understanding. The waiting room was full of people who had all types of cancer, some worse than mine. Some who had smoking-related cancers were missing parts of their faces. It tore my heart to see little children waiting with their mothers.
In the first few days, I was so overwhelmed by the misery of the people in the room that I shrank into myself. I couldn't do anything or speak to anyone. I couldn't even look at them. I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to be there with my cancer.
But soon, as we became aware of God's presence in that dire situation, the Holy Spirit began drawing us out. We became aware that the right word shared at the appropriate moment could move others toward God. Slowly we saw a higher purpose.
Sometimes our experiences don't fit with our understanding of what the Bible teaches. On the one hand, we know that God is sovereign and that he sent Jesus to commission us to pray for and heal the sick. On the other hand, we know from experience that healing does not always occur. Why would God command us to heal the sick and then choose not to back up our act (so to speak) by not healing the person for whom we pray?
This can be downright discouraging, as I learned years ago in my own congregation when I began to teach on healing. It was nine months before we saw the first person healed. The temptation was to withdraw from practicing Christ's commands or, at the other extreme, to drum up a false bravado to convince God to do what we thought he ought to do.
Neither posture is correct. Our part is to obey his commands, and his part is to execute his will. We know his will; it is given in the Bible. Still, the Bible doesn't tell us which people God will heal or not heal, and God has the sovereign choice concerning each person for whom we pray. Will he heal, or will he extend grace for suffering instead? Or will he grant healing at a later time? Is there another factor hindering the healing, such as demonic opposition or the lack of unity in the church? These very real issues leave us where we began: trusting God to make the sovereign choices for our lives.
While I was being treated for cancer, someone wrote me a letter asking, "Do you still believe in healing now that you've got cancer?" I wrote back: "Yes! I do." And the truth is, I do.
I also believe in pain. Both are found in the Word of God. In the year I spent battling cancer God purged me of a lot of habits and attitudes that weren't right, and through it I grew stronger as a Christian. Some of my greatest advances in spiritual maturity came as I embraced the pain - as each day I had to choose to allow God to accomplish his work in me by any method, even adversity.
Tragedy, illness, unforeseeable loss and pain will have an impact on all of us, and while I don't know anyone who would deliberately sign up to suffer, God uses these experiences to accomplish his purposes in and through us. But we ought not to be frightened. God is sovereign. He is our resource and our peace. We have security in the knowledge of the Lord's plan for us to spend eternity with him. Nothing can ultimately vanquish us, and that's good news.
