When God Weeps

by Joni Eareckson Tada

  I stand in awe of everything he has done in my life. He took me out of a deep, dark pit of incest, prostitution, depression, self-hate, and so on and he set my feet on a solid rock. He put a new song in my heart and like Psalm 40 says, “Many shall see it and shall fear and shall trust in the Lord.” I am not great, but I serve a great God. When I think of where he brought me from, I know I am not worthy. But still when I am faithless, he is faithful.

  Love, Jeri

  CONTENTMENT AND JOY

  Zachariah’s mother is full of joy. Amazing!

  The apostle Paul affirms this, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9). The world has a philosophy that says, “What can’t be cured must be endured.” Christians have a philosophy that says, “What can’t be cured can be enjoyed.”

  “The answer is not to get rid of unhappiness,” Elisabeth Elliot suggests, “but to find a new definition for it. Define happiness in things like duty, honor and sacrifice, faithfulness, commitment and service.” Honor gives value to a bad marriage. Sacrifice is the true expression of love to ungrateful children. Faithfulness in guarding the reputation of a coworker is worth far more than a promotion. Commitment and service to others brings joy unspeakable to the afflicted person who focuses off himself.

  Contentment and joy go hand in hand.

  Consider again the apostle Paul. When he wrote the Philippian letter, he was under guard, waiting for his case to be processed before the imperial court. There were long delays. Come what may, he was not only ready, he was…full of joy! In his letter he says:

  The things that have happened to me have fallen out to the advantage of the Gospel…in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is being proclaimed and in this I rejoice.…Yes, and I shall continue to rejoice, for I know that…this will turn out to my salvation…Now as always Christ will be magnified in my person, whether by life or by death…For the rest, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord.…Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say rejoice…Now I rejoice in the Lord greatly.

  From beginning to end, the letter sparkles with joy.

  Paul’s prison experience was rich in joy and contentment because he had learned from previous times in prison. Years earlier, Paul and Silas were cast into the inner cell of a different prison. Yet deep in the darkness of midnight, during the loneliest hour, they were found singing praises to God. No half-hearted humming. In spite of thick walls and heavy doors, other prisoners actually heard them singing praises (Acts 16:25).

  Paul’s arithmetic for contentment was to subtract his earthly wants so that something of greater value could be attained: Christ’s cause advanced throughout the world. This gave him enormous joy. Joy based on his conviction that suffering Christians are used more powerfully in God’s kingdom. And when he was thrown into prison the next time—and for the last time—he was rejoicing greatly.

  How odd. Yet how like God. It’s the way Jesus lived when he was on earth. The Son of Man “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering” was also the Son of God who was the Lord of joy (Isaiah 53:3). “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (Hebrews 12:2-3).

  CONSIDER HIM

  If you only try to stave off discontentment, you will fail miserably. Unless you add the massive promise of superior happiness in God, you can subtract all the desires you please and you’ll still be restless.

  When it comes to contentment, God must be our aim. Whether it’s wayward thoughts, bad-mouthing our circumstances, or comparing ourselves with others whose lot in life is easier, the battle involves more than eschewing evil; it involves pursuing God. Hebrews 11:25 says,

  It was by faith that Moses…chose to share ill-treatment with God’s people instead of enjoying the fleeting pleasures of sin. He thought that it was better to suffer for the promised Christ than to own all the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking forward to the great reward that God would give him. (LIVING BIBLE)

  I am still learning this. What my body can’t have, my mind will shift into overdrive to deliver. But fantasies only frustrate. I must fight to stay satisfied with God, and so I glut myself on the promises of Christ. Dr. John Piper has written superbly on this subject in The Pleasures of God.

  We must swallow up the little flicker of [earthly] pleasure in the conflagration of holy satisfaction. When we make a covenant with our eyes, as Job did, our aim is not merely to avoid something erotic, but to gain something excellent…We do not yield to the offer of sandwich meat when we can smell the steak sizzling on the grill.5

  In the quest for contentment, we should not give up so easily and get detoured by earthly pleasures when there is the promise of maximum, full-forced joy in the Lord. After all, “In Thy presence is fullness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures evermore” (Psalm 16:11 KJV). Contentment has the upper hand in your heart when you are satiated in Christ. When, with Paul, you see him as sufficient. As enough. “Whom have I in heaven but you? And being with you, I desire nothing on earth” (see Psalm 73:25).

  It is what Jesus means when he says, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry…” (John 6:35).

  Contentment is being full.

  Never wanting more.

  We need not ever be hungry for “Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” (Deuteronomy 8:3). The role of the Word of God is to feed faith’s appetite for Christ.

  SUBTRACT ONE MORE THING

  The Lord once preached a superb sermon on the promises of superior happiness in God. He whets our appetite for God as he lists through his Beatitudes in Matthew 5:3-12.

  When I was a kid, the Beatitudes baffled me. I wanted to get excited about God and be blessed and happy as much as anyone, but Jesus seemed to make it a “minus” rather than a “plus.” He employed more of the same gaining-through-losing arithmetic.

  If I wanted the kingdom, I’d have to know persecution. Subtraction.

  If I longed to be comforted, I’d have to mourn. More subtraction.

  Inherit the earth? Be meek. Subtract again.

  The Beatitude especially linked to contentment is verse 3, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

  Do you want to know contentment pure and deep? Become poor in spirit like this: “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23–24). See yourself as spiritually impoverished, and you’ll find satisfaction in God.

  “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret” (2 Corinthians 7:10). Why no regrets? The one who recognizes his low estate before a good God has low expectations, much like the prodigal son who said to his father, “I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men” (see Luke 15:21). I would say it this way, “I would rather be in this chair knowing him, than on my feet without him.” No regrets. Even the apostle Paul, the most contented yet most maligned Christian who ever lived, saw himself as the least of the apostles, the least of all saints, and the chief of sinners.

  When you realize you are among the least, the littlest, the last, and the lost, God becomes everything. To be caught up in his superior happiness, is to see his love infused in and entertained around everything. Absolutely everything.

  You find your heart drawn nearer to God by the smallest of enjoyments. “When your husbands are at sea,” says Jeremiah Burroughs, “and they send you a token of their love, it is worth more than forty times what you already have in your houses. Every good thing the people of God enjoy, they enjoy it…as a token of God’s love…and this must needs be very sweet to t
hem.”6

  To the contented person, the God-given token can be an hour of listening to Bach by the fireside. Sitting under a tree on a blustery day. Pulling over on the road to take in a kaleidoscope sunset. You find yourself peeling an onion only to stop and marvel at the beauty of its concentric rings, all perfect and delicate. You see a kitten wrestling with a sock and giggle over God’s sense of humor. Our duties are sweet when seen as service to him. Ruth Graham boasts of a sign in her kitchen that reads, “Divine service conducted here three times daily.” When everything becomes a token of God’s love, you feel as though you possess everything; yet you have nothing!

  First Corinthians 3:21-23 says it best: “So then…all things are yours…the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God.” This is the way I feel at Wednesday night prayer meeting in our little church, which is no more than two trailers hooked together. We’re not fancy. Not big. But when the eight of us sing hymns before prayer time—and we’re not great singers—the joy brings tears to my eyes.

  It is a taste of heaven.

  All contentment is a foretaste of eternity where “God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:3-4). Contentment in heaven will go far beyond satisfaction. It is satisfaction overflowing. Rest in motion. It is, as G. K. Chesterton says, peace dancing.

  Do you enjoy your friends now? You’ll have more in heaven. Do you like sailing? One day you’ll glide through the universe. Do you enjoy movies? One day you will delight in the real “videos” of history. Do you get a charge out of intellectual discussions? Soon you shall converse with the angels, the saints of the ages, and with God.

  Contentment is a deposit, a guaranteeing of what is to come, “the first installment of future bliss” or, as THE MESSAGE puts it, “He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less” (2 Corinthians 5:5).

  WHAT IF I DON’T SUFFER?

  “Joni, you make it sound like I’m missing out.”

  Joyce is a top executive with an international publishing company who jet-sets in a multi-million dollar world. She’s single and loves it. Unlimited opportunities to travel. Flexibility in her schedule at home. A condominium tastefully decorated. Church committees seeking her support. The friends with whom she spends time, like her, are cosmopolitan in their choice of books, plays, and art.

  “I don’t suffer,” she said one day while we were having tea. “My life is remarkably pain free. My family isn’t facing any major crisis, and my worst problem is fighting off an occasional flu.” She set down her teacup and thoughtfully added, “Does this mean I can’t be as close to God as those who go through a lot of hardship?”

  This is a head-scratcher. The Bible tells us that all who live godly lives will suffer. Believers should encounter persecution. The promise is “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33). Jesus was hated by his own for the fight that he shed on their evil deeds. Yet some people—like Joyce—seem to have found peace with their families, friends, and employers. We are supposed to deny ourselves and take up our crosses daily. It would seem odd that one could carry the weight of a cross and not feel its pain.

  Nevertheless, there are those who seem to have an easier lot in life.

  So Joyce’s question is a good one. Are only scarred survivors of the mission field close, really close, to God?

  It reminds me of the prodigal son’s older brother in Luke 15. Hardship never seemed to touch the man’s life. After his younger brother headed for “Hollywood,” the older son kept faithfully managing the farm and paying the bills. He kept his nose clean and never suffered consequences of disobedience. Then one day, when his younger brother showed up, the father went hog-wild. Steaks on the barbecue. Crepe paper on the tent posts. It wasn’t the cost of confetti and fatted calves that irked the older brother, but the gushing favor his father showered on his sibling. Just when the older brother thought he was missing out, he heard these words of tender reassurance: “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me and everything I have is yours’” (Luke 15:31). The prodigal son only had a portion of the inheritance. The older son possessed everything. He simply forgot that.

  “In a way, you have it harder,” I said.

  Joyce is a wise woman and, after a moment, nodded. She has always understood that, without suffering, she must live more circumspectly. More carefully. Without suffering, she could be like the prodigal’s older brother who, in his trouble-free circumstances, forgot how much he had. But God has blessed Joyce “in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3). God has nothing more beyond Christ to give those who suffer or those who do not.

  Joyce has to be wise about something else. Without suffering, she could be like an unbridled horse who lacks the restraints that guide and direct. The bit, martingale, tie down, spur, and crop school the horse to listen to the rider’s commands. How hard it would be for an animal, without the aid of his master, to train himself up in the way he should go. It’s the same for humans. Hardship is our bit and bridle. First Timothy 4:7-8 advises, “Train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”

  God has not seen fit to place the bridle and bit, as it were, on Joyce. And so, the onus is on Joyce to look to the examples of people like Karla Larson, my half-blind friend with no legs. Joyce can benefit from her. And “as you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered…as an example of patience in the face of suffering” (James 5:10–11).

  Contentment is counting your blessings!

  THE SECRET

  Sometimes I look up on my wall calendar and gaze at the blank months of years to come and I wonder, What will it be like five years from now? Ten years? What if my husband suffers an injury and can’t take care of me? Worse yet, I won’t be able to take care of him!

  The enemy of contentment is worry.

  In Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, the phrase he repeated most often was, “Do not worry.” The Lord was wise in repeating his warnings so many times. He knows the devastating affects of anxiety and how it can corrode faith like acid; robbing you of joy and stealing your hope.

  I’m sure this is why Jesus said in the same sermon, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:34). The secret of being content is to take one day at a time. Not five years or ten at a time, but one day.

  Like the manna that fell fresh from heaven each morning, God supplies the needs of his children with the dawning of each day. “Because of the LORD’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23). The sufficiency of Christ is more than enough to meet the needs of a lifetime, but life can only be lived one day, one moment, at a time. “Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25). When you’re suffering, life is lived in steps. Very small steps.

  Shawna Leavell is taking life in measured moments. She is the young woman who was sentenced to prison after she drove her car, in a drunken stupor, the wrong way on the Hollywood Freeway and killed a man. I’m amazed at what contentment looks like on her.

  Dear Joni,

  I was moved into a new cell with two lifers in for murder. I was so oppressed. When I got together with some others for a Bible study, we talked about responding to hard situations. I cried so much the floor was wet. I was expecting God to deliver a miracle like I was ordering fast food.

  He told me to lay all my worries at his feet and let him take care of the problem in his way and timing. I let go—it was awesome. I let go of the room always being dark. I let go of the radio, music and TV, and when I did my bunkie happened
to give me ear plugs! My whining is disappearing.

  I’m like the thief who was on the cross next to Jesus who said he was there because of his sin. I recognize I already am responsible for killing one man—an innocent man—Jesus, but because of my old hard heart, I now have the blood of two innocent men on my hands. It’s a major reason for my striving for obedience and servitude to Christ—it’s too bad I didn’t recognize that sacrifice for all it was before.

  Love,

  Shawna

  Shawna faces a long, dreary stretch behind bars. She is learning the secret of the sufficiency of Christ one day at a time. In a way, we “mark time,” as well, with suffering making us move through our days in measured steps.

  Satisfaction in life arises from knowing you are where you belong. Discontented people strive to be somewhere else or someone else. Contentment comes from many great and small acceptances in life. “Every day we experience something of the death of Jesus, so that we may also show the power of the life of Jesus in these bodies of ours” (2 Corinthians 4:10 PHILLIPS).

  When life isn’t the way you like it, like it the way it is…one day at a time with Christ. And you will be blessed.

  Twelve

  SUFFERING GONE MALIGNANT

  It’s time for the “H” word.

  For eleven chapters we’ve looked at the hell-on-earth that many people go through. But there may be an even bigger problem. What if, as the Bible teaches, there is also a hell after earth? Sounds too awful to ponder, doesn’t it? Yet according to historic Christianity, hell holds the key to many mysteries about our earthly sufferings. Without hell, the “why” behind so much pain will never be resolved. Without hell, there is ultimately no justice or fairness. For God to be God, for heaven to be heaven, there must be a hell.