Many times my mind travels back to my past where I begin the blame game of my postpartum depression. When I am healthy, I can redirect these thoughts to acknowledge all the faithful ways God has provided in my life. As we move through life, pain and suffering become inevitable in our stories. This oftentimes dreaded duo makes the story of God’s people more real, tangible, relatable.
Why?
God’s unrelenting love chases the sufferer, holds fast to her, and extrapolates goodness. There is goodness in a broken body and mind that falls onto the solid foundation of Jesus. When we allow God to weave through our story, becoming the great Weaver, He pieces together a story that more profoundly reveals His purpose than we could ever tell with our lips.
The cracked ground holds gems. Plants thrive in crushed earth. It’s very rare that gems are found on the surface of the earth or seeds thrive when not planted IN the ground.
While others disdainfully see weakness or fear in a tale of suffering, the sufferer’s story is grounded in witnessing the living God in every moment of every day. Suffering can be welcome here despite what the world says.
I used to think suffering was something to step over on your way to the next part of your story. What could be learned or gained from suffering that knocked you down? In my own story of suffering, I believed misery was my fault and needed to be hidden under a blanket, kept secret from a world that only showcases shiny new things, smiling faces, and shamble-free living.
How many times have we heard the verse, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9)? Yet we still want grace without weakness. Grace in our own strength. Grace, even, for others, but not necessarily for ourselves.
But God sees suffering differently. In fact, as you stumble, skin your knee, and wonder which way is up, grace bleeds and pours out. Grace gushes from your wounds. Again, personal stories of suffering unveil an ever-present, more real God. When He is close to us, He becomes close to others.
When suffering from depression, I used to ask where has my Jesus gone?
I had to learn from experience that Jesus is not dead. He has risen. How often are we looking for Jesus among the rubble, devastation or decay of my past? He is not there, He is here, redeeming my today. Which is why Philippians 4;8 is so important. Are you focusing on the death of your past? Trying to make sense of the earthquake?
Dear friend, it’s not that He wasn’t there when you were going through that dark time. He wants you here, risen with Him, risen from the pain of your past. He doesn’t want you to to continue holding the spade of bitterness, digging in barren soil. He’s pulling you forward, rising like the sun. The suffering didn’t make sense. You don’t know why nor do you know how you got through it (divinely), but you’re here now.
And you may find yourself running back to that pit, asking where has my Jesus gone? But he’s not there. He’s here now, redeeming your present.
Maybe the question isn’t to ask why or to focus on the disappointment.
Maybe the point is to focus on the present God. The blessings He bestows now. Now is the time to focus on the intimate ways He’s involved in our journey. The way a friend just “happens” to know you need prayer at a specific time. Or a meaningful song just “happens” to play on the radio the exact moment you need it. Or an encouraging scripture that pertains so perfectly to your current circumstance you really wonder if God placed it before you.
We can chalk it up to coincidences or happenstance. But truthfully, I believe this is the hand of God working intricately in our lives.
So how do we move on, recognizing these trials in our stories as positive stepping stones for healing?
Instead of holding out for an answer to “why me?” we can say, “Thank you.” Thank you, Lord, for drawing us closer to you and for carrying us through the darkest nights. Thank you for the compassion and empathy that only you can build in a hardened human heart such as mine. Through the pain, we see you so much more clearly. We see your faithful, abounding-in-love, grace-filled character so poignantly in our story of suffering.
Sure, the blessings and gifts are wonderful. God is evidently there too. But He is “…our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble” (Psalms 46:1). Jesus is the friend “who sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24). Suffering is the fabric God can use to weave upon and create a beautiful tapestry of grace and healing and an unshakeable faith.
Pray with Me
Dear Heavenly Father, Creator God of the Heavens and earth, Author of our faith and Peace-giver. You, Lord, are the thread that holds our stories together. Your goodness creates meaning out of broken lives. When circumstances in our lives don’t make sense, I pray that we would see the work of your hands more clearly. I pray that you would give me ears to hear and eyes to see the evidence of your fingerprints in our lives.
Lord, when my mind wants to travel to the past, to land there and take root, I pray that you would gently lift me out of the barren soil and make me like “…a tree firmly planted [and tended] by streams of water, ready to bring forth its fruit in its season…” (Psalm 1:3).
Thank you, Lord, for loving us through every trial, for giving us your grace that abounds in weakness. We pray for vulnerability as we share stories of adversity in order to continue to display the very realness of our living God.
In Jesus’ perfect, matchless name we pray, Amen.
Always, thank you so much for not only reading this post, but inspiring me to be the writer I am today. If you found this article encouraging, please feel free to share with anyone who may need to hear these words now (or save this for later).
