A Place to Start
I have to admit that the timid King Ahaz and I have had a lot in common through the years.
Sometimes I look into the future and just feel … overwhelmed. Try as I might, I can’t seem to see beyond my fears. The path ahead of me seems fogged in by anxiety.
You know how it goes. Sometimes all it takes is a phone call, email, or piece of bad news to send you off the path of faith into the shadows of worry and doubt.
That’s what happened to me not long ago when I got word that a coworker’s best friend—she can’t be more than sixty-one or sixty-two—had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I thought, At her age? It jarred me. I began to think, Boy, that’s not far from my age. What does God have in store for me?
There’s hardly a Christian who hasn’t looked into the future and thought, What’s God’s will for me? What will He do? How will things work out? What’s His plan for the rest of my life? You don’t have to be in your sixties to be asking that question. Most people ask it in their twenties or even younger than that.
For whatever your age or life situation, I’d like to suggest 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18—short and sweet as it may be—as a place to start when you need a perspective change.
Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
It sounds a little like the Lord’s counsel to young King Ahaz, doesn’t it? Be careful. Keep calm. Don’t be afraid. Don’t lose heart. Do you find yourself struggling to discern God’s will when your problems begin to close in on you? Paul’s succinct counsel will serve you very well—no matter what your situation might be.
• Be joyful always.
• Pray continually.
• Give thanks in all circumstances.
That’s certainly enough to get a person started in finding the will of God. In fact, you could work on those three things the rest of your life and still never master them.
“Ah, but Joni,” you say, “you don’t know my situation. You have no idea! I got this call last night from my daughter.… I received this hospital bill in today’s mail.… My husband’s been drinking again.… There’s all sorts of pain and turmoil in our family right now. How can I be thankful when I’m facing such heartaches?”
As a matter of fact, God isn’t asking you to be thankful. He’s asking you to give thanks. There’s a big difference. One response involves emotions, the other your choices, your decisions about a situation, your intent, your “step of faith.”
It takes faith—sometimes great faith in a terrible circumstance—to choose to forgive, to choose the loving (and not angry) response. That’s just plain hard. Especially when your emotions—like a fast-running stream—are seeking to pull you in the other direction. Trusting God has nothing to do with following your feelings.
Give thanks that He is sovereign. Give thanks that He is in control. Give thanks that He’s planning it all for your good—for your family’s good—which ultimately will be all to His glory.
The threefold biblical command (because that’s what it is, and nothing less) to be joyful, pray always, and give thanks will lead to a clearer understanding of where God is leading you and what He wants you to do next.
It’s what happened to me many years ago after the accident that broke my neck. In that hospital in Baltimore I gritted my teeth and willfully gave thanks for everything—from the awful food to the grueling hours of physical therapy.
Months later, a miracle occurred. I began to feel thankful. My brighter outlook enabled me to give thanks for greater things. Then, later on, another miracle occurred. I was able to rejoice in my suffering. And finding God’s will from then on out? It just seemed to naturally unfold.
Refuse to Focus on Your Fears
Ah, but those fears!
That cold sense of gnawing dread.
The anxiety that sometimes feels like a tight belt around your chest.
It’s all too easy, isn’t it, to get caught up in situations that make us afraid? Believe me, I know. You and I may not be facing two advancing armies as the king of Judah did, but life has plenty of other anxieties that can rob us of our peace and bring us low!
My girlfriend Jean, for instance, recently received a doctor’s report that said she had scleroderma. When people around her heard the news, they said, “Sclero what?”
Not many people know about this troubling disease of the muscle tissue and skin. Jean certainly didn’t know, and so she decided to become an expert. In the days that followed she utterly immersed herself in all the available information. She was constantly in front of her computer, researching articles, writing doctors, comparing reports, and investigating treatment options.
But as the days turned into weeks, I began to notice something about my friend. It was undoubtedly helpful that she was learning so much, but I couldn’t help but notice that her focus on God began to change.
You’d ask her how she was doing with the Lord, and she’d reply with her recent medical report. She’d come to Bible study or you’d run into her at church and, well … it turned into an opportunity to bring you up to date on the latest news about scleroderma.
At first it was understandable. You’d expect Jean to be concerned about her condition. But after awhile I wondered if her faith in the Lord was beginning to suffer.
If you find yourself with a painful or limiting physical condition, there’s nothing wrong with tracking down the relevant facts and treatment options. It’s good to know about the diagnosis and prognosis and all the rest of it. But the lure to know more and more about your problem, and the lack of desire to know God more and more in the midst of your problem … well, that’s a clear indication that your faith is becoming diminished.
Again, this is precisely where we need a divine change of perspective.
The fact is that the God who loves us doesn’t allow distressing medical reports in our lives to send us down worry-choked side roads of medical minutia. No, any such crisis is meant to awaken us to the reality of God, His nearness, His care, His presence, and His ever-present help. As with all of life’s disappointments and heartaches, it’s meant to put force behind the directive in Hosea chapter 6, where it says, “Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD.”2
And please remember, those words were set down at a time when the nation of Israel was being overwhelmed with problems. Hosea’s prescription? Let us know … and let us press on to know the Lord better and better.
When suffering hits us broadside, it’s bound to shake our faith a little—just as if we were driving across a high bridge in a compact car and got hit by a great gust of wind. You have to make sure you have both hands on the wheel! But trials are also meant to waken us to the truth of Daniel 11:32 (ESV), where it says, “The people who know their God shall stand firm and take action.”
If you’re facing what seems to be an overwhelming situation in your life this week, I want to encourage you to stand firm. Don’t let this thing fill up your whole horizon. Don’t let your anxieties swallow you up or drain your faith dry. Rather, stand firm and take action. Take it as an opportunity to do a little research of your own into God’s Word. Compare Bible verses with each other; investigate the examples of Paul or Joseph or Daniel or Peter and how they dealt with bad news and suffering in their lives.
What a waste of an illness or injury if we read—or go on talking—day and night about that illness, that injury, and not about the God who allowed it for His own sovereign reasons.
My friend Dave Powlison has some very good advice in that regard.
Dave is a professor at the Christian Counseling Education Foundation. He’s also fighting a war with a cancer that seeks to ravage his body. Used to being a man on the go, Dave has been forced to slow down and learn some new lessons in patience as he walks through this unexpected season of life. I’
ve never had to face cancer myself, but as I’ve watched Dave, I have drawn so much encouragement, so much help and hope, just observing the way he approaches the challenges of this disease.
As you well know, cancer is such an alarming word; it immediately spreads fear and doubt. Dave has gone through the usual chemotherapy routines—the waiting, the uncertainty, and the awful reaction to the drugs. But I’m amazed at the way he has kept his emotional balance … and his courage.
In the face of all the fear, pain, and sickness, just listen to what Dave wrote to me not long ago:
Joni, I have learned that for every one sentence you say to others about your cancer, say ten sentences about your God, your hope, and what He is teaching you, and the small blessings of each day. For every hour you spend researching or discussing your cancer, spend ten hours researching and discussing and serving your Lord. Relate all that you are learning about cancer back to Him and His purposes, and you won’t become obsessed [with fears and doubts].
What outstanding counsel! What powerful truth. I need to remember this special insight from Dave when I feel overwhelmed by my pain in this wheelchair. You can relate, can’t you? Because when we are hit hard with suffering, our tendency is to go on and on about our problems—especially problems that relate to our health. We’ll go into detail about our scleroderma, a knee surgery that’s not healing, a rehabilitation program that’s super hard, or even about our chemotherapy regimen.
What I need to do is learn from Dave. For every sentence I say or write about “my condition,” I need to say ten sentences about the grace and strength and help and encouragement and blessings of God!
The truth is, in this world it’s a 100 percent guarantee that we will suffer. But at the same time, Jesus Christ is 100 percent certain to meet us, encourage us, comfort us, grace us with strength and perseverance, and yes, even restore joy in our lives. Your Savior is 100 percent certain to be with you through every challenge.
The Bible tells us time and again that God is faithful, and greater is He who is in you than any ache or pain or even terminal illness.
Remember today, if you start talking about your health issues—or any problems, for that matter—be sure to talk also about the grace of our wonderful Lord to sustain and save!
A Shining Example
I just recently read something from the pen of John Piper that seemed to be written just for me.
Piper was reflecting on a situation the apostle Paul describes in Philippians chapter 2. Apparently the church in Philippi had sent out one of their number, Epaphroditus, as an emissary tasked with bringing a gift to Paul while he was in prison. According to that passage, Epaphroditus became ill and almost died while he was visiting with Paul.
So here’s what Paul told the Philippians:
But I think it is necessary to send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, fellow worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs. For he longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill. Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow. Therefore I am all the more eager to send him, so that when you see him again you may be glad and I may have less anxiety. (vv. 25–28)
Finally recovering from his serious brush with death, Epaphroditus “has been distressed because you heard he was ill.”
Piper writes:
What an amazing response! It does not say the Philippians were distressed that he was ill, but that Epaphroditus was distressed because they heard he was ill. That is the kind of heart God is aiming to create [when we suffer]: a deeply affectionate, caring heart for people. Don’t waste your [suffering] by retreating into yourself.
Apparently Epaphroditus was such a caring, humble man that he didn’t want others worrying about him. He didn’t want to distress his fellow Christians, knowing that they had enough problems without being anxious for his health. Anyway, Epaphroditus probably thought—even though he had almost died—that his health problems were insignificant compared to the hardships his friends had been facing.
Can’t you just see him shaking his head and saying to the apostle, “Oh man, Paul, I didn’t want this. Tell ’em I’m better. Tell ’em I’ll be fine. The last thing they need to be worrying about these days is my health!”
Does that speak to you like it does to me?
Epaphroditus models a praiseworthy, wonderful perspective here, and I hope that when I write about my disability or my battles with pain, that I do it in such a way as to encourage others in Christ—not make them anxious for me or worried about me. Because I’ll tell you, my quadriplegia is no big deal in comparison to what most Christians are facing in parts of the world where there is war and persecution—and so little help for people with disabilities or heartbreaking pain.
Maybe you can identify with me a little here, but I know there are times when I talk about myself way too much. If we have a health problem, a new ache or pain, or some issue that has made walking (or in my case, wheeling) even more difficult, then we talk about it, don’t we? Dare I use the word grumble?
“Lift Up Your Eyes”
I want you to join me today in asking God to help us cultivate a genuine focus on others, and less of a focus on our own pains and problems. That’s a choice my friend Hannah made … and I have a strong feeling she’ll never regret it.
Last night I was on the phone with Hannah, who has been struggling with three issues that sound similar to what Ahaz must have grappled with that morning by the Upper Pool.
First, she has huge doubts about the goodness of God.
Second, she has paralyzing thoughts about an unknown future.
And third, she knows that she has become terribly self-centered. She’s discouraged that she can’t seem to stop thinking about her own problems. It’s as though she’s been running the same deeply rutted track, around and around, never getting anywhere.
Hannah is old enough in the Lord to know that something’s very wrong with that picture. But she also knows that she is haunted by the memories of so much abuse when she was a child—terrible sexual abuse. She said to me last night, “Joni, I feel like I’m the one who is really disabled, not you.” I knew what she was talking about; I understood those trapped feelings—the doubts, the fears, the always-thinking-of-yourself.
I was quiet for a long moment, waiting on the Lord for words to say to her.
Suddenly I found myself picturing a little girl named Jenny.
Jenny’s mother is a prostitute who lives in and out of motels and works the east end of the San Fernando Valley in California. Los Angeles social services took Jenny away from her mother when she was five years old—but by that time, the little girl had experienced serial abuse for years. They placed her with my friend Rebecca, who had already adopted Jenny’s older half sister. I explained to Hannah how I had been joining in prayer for these two little girls whose personalities even now, at such young ages, are tragically damaged.
Hannah listened to all of this. Finally I asked her, “Hannah, would you please pray for Jenny? Six-year-old Jenny?”
There was a long pause—a silence on the other end of the phone. Finally Hannah said, “Of course. Yes. And let’s pray for all the Jennys who don’t have adoptive mothers like Rebecca.”
One of us remembered the words of Jesus to His disciples: “Do you not say, ‘There are yet four months, then comes the harvest’? Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see that the fields are white for harvest.” And, “Pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest” (John 4:35; Matt. 9:38 ESV).
There on the phone we agreed that though the need is so very great, laborers, like my friend Rebecca, are few.
It was at that very moment that Hannah experienced a divine change in perspective. Instead of seeing the overwhelming nature of her own prob
lems, she had “lifted her eyes” beyond herself to see someone else’s need.
“Joni,” she said quietly, “I want to be one of those laborers. I want to help little girls who’ve gone through even worse than what I’ve experienced.”
By the time our conversation ended last night, Hannah had taken a huge turn. She learned that the doubts, fears, and self-centeredness were really the opposite of the faith, hope, and love described in 1 Corinthians 13. She knew that she still lacked faith and hope, and still wrestled with doubts and fears. But little Jenny had shown her that the answer to self-centeredness isn’t endless self-examination, but simply love—a love that reaches outside of itself, and focuses on helping those whose plight is worse than our own.
Hold onto Hope
I need all the hope I can get, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m disabled, things aren’t easy, and I thrive on hope. I love anything to do with hope. One contemporary paraphrase of Paul’s words in Romans 15 puts it like this:
Oh! May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope!3
As you and I trust God through the toughest of times, He imparts even more hope, evidenced by joy and peace of mind and heart. A Christian who is full of joy, who is peaceful about his circumstances, is the Christian who has hope. He has the God of hope front and center in his heart.
It’s why I keep a certain pastel pencil drawing on my art easel—the same drawing that’s been sitting on my easel for well over a year now. It’s a scene of a church in the woods, covered by snow, with the mountains in the distance. I started it over a year ago, hopeful that I would be able to complete it in a short time.
A Place of Healing Page 13