When Suffering Feels Close

I'm afraid my kids think I'm losing it.

I've had a hard time getting through studies, hymns, and readings lately without getting weepy. Whether it's singing Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing or reciting The Lamb by William Blake or even repeating our catechisms about the just wrath of God, I just end up in a big puddle at the end.

It's a hard pill to swallow … to imagine the suffering of my perfect, sinless, loving, compassionate Savior … all because of my sin. That, even knowing what He endured, I still pick up the nails and hammer every day. My stomach turns to think that on a normal Thursday afternoon, my flesh weaves a new crown of thorns to plunge into His scalp. When I am angry, inconvenienced, or honestly just uncomfortable, it is horrifying how often I choose to whip His back with the lashes of my tongue instead of humbling myself at the foot of His Cross.

My sweet Savior, tortured and murdered for my sins. I readily confess it with my lips, I rely on it for the salvation of my soul, and still, in my flesh, I crucify Him again and again.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

The Garden and the Cup

In reflecting on the last day before His great suffering and crucifixion, I envision Christ in the Garden of Gethsemene, asking His disciples to stay awake and pray for Him, sweating beads of blood and crying out to His Father, “Take this cup from me…”

I am overwhelmed by the humanity of this moment. Being fully God, He knew and submitted to the necessity of the impending torture and murder (“Yet not as I will, but as you will.”). But also being fully man, we witness His innate human desire to flee from the suffering and death that He knew was coming. The soul is willing, but the flesh is weak (though He never fails to demonstrate perfect obedience and submission to the will of God).

A Story That Stuck With Me

Along that same line of thought, I recently saw a video in my Instagram feed from Joni Eareckson Tada, founder of Joni and Friends. If you aren't familiar with her story, Joni became quadriplegic after breaking her neck in a diving accident at the age of 17. She has since founded a worldwide organization that points those who are suffering and lost toward the enduring hope they have in Christ. Through her profound pain and grief, she has ministered to hundreds of thousands of people, giving great Glory to God.

Joni recently shared that a homeschool student, while visiting their organization, asked her a poignant question: If she had the chance to go back and tell her 17-year-old self not to take that dive, would she?

Joni's honest response was that, even in light of knowing how God had used her suffering to minister to countless thousands over the last several decades of her life, she would have absolutely told her 17-year-old self to never take that dive.

Certainly, the expected response was that she would have allowed the suffering to happen because she had witnessed the goodness of God through that great pain. The expected response was that her suffering was so glorifying to God and had served so many … wouldn't she unquestioningly choose it for herself again, now knowing all the beauty that had come from those ashes?

But in her always-vulnerable authenticity, Joni's message was different. If she had the chance, she would have said, “Take this cup from me…” She would have preferred the path without the suffering.

What This Means for Us

It seems to me, and I'm just thinking aloud here, that it is in the nature of humans to avoid suffering of every kind. I've personally endured my fair share of death, sickness, and anxiety that leaves me a bit scarred today. Much of that suffering, I am genuinely grateful for, because it changed me in ways that desperately needed changing. My life is ultimately better for it, and God was indeed glorified.

But there is suffering that, without question, I would ask God to please, “Take this cup from me…” There is suffering that, while I felt God's incredible comfort and provision throughout it, I still wish I could have avoided it. I believe that I, too, would have preferred the path without the suffering.

I think I'm sharing this to say that if you've been through suffering, if you're suffering now, or if you are anxious that suffering is ahead … you are not alone, weak, broken, or sinful to desire that the suffering hadn't happened, would stop, or wouldn't come again.

Living in the Tension

It is possible and OK and fully human to stand in that tension: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”

Father, this hurts. I don't want it. I don't think I can survive this.
Father, why me? Why us? Why this?
Father, I don't know that I can endure this.
Father, I can't go through that kind of pain again.

But even so… despite how I feel, and what I want, and what I fear … Not my will be done. But yours.

You Are Not Alone in This

Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes this God-forsaken world is cold, harsh, and unrelenting. Sometimes the pain feels like more than we can bear. Sometimes, we feel confident that no amount of beauty, glory, or growth could be worth this kind of devastation and pain.

Know that, if you are there, have been there, or are headed there… your Savior is right there too. We endure nothing that He Himself has not endured. There is no fear, no temptation, and no pain that we will walk through that He has not forged a path already.

Knowing that doesn't necessarily stop the pain, but it is a great comfort to know that we are not alone in the midst of it. And that IN HIM, all things are held together. That, IN HIM, we move and live and have our being. IN HIM, He is working everything together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.

A Living Hope

Sunday is coming, sweet friends. He is our RISEN SAVIOR, indeed! And no matter what we've been through, are going through now, or what is on the horizon ahead—He is sovereign, He is good, and He is ALIVE. Great is His faithfulness!

I pray that your days are filled with family, faith, hope, and above all, the saving grace and mercy of Jesus Christ.