This year has been a challenging year for my faith. At times I’ve felt lost, frustrated, angry, and defeated. I’ve been learning a lot, but in the last few weeks some of those lessons have finally culminated into truths I can cling to. Here’s a little snapshot of my journey.
In the midst of feeling sick for the 7th consecutive week, I kept coming across verses about victory.
"The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to His heavenly kingdom." 2 Timothy 4:18
"But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen and protect you from the evil one." 2 Thessalonians 3:3
"They will fight against you but will not overcome you, for I am with you and will rescue you, declares the Lord." Jeremiah 1:19
"...no weapon forged against you will prevail, and you will refute every tongue that accuses you." Isaiah 54:17
Lying in bed in a house in Florida while other missionaries covered my English classes and I watched my time in Haiti tick away, I felt anything but victorious. Yet these are the verses I read. These are the words people prayed over me. Could I possibly be winning even though I feel defeated? Can victory in Christ look like 2 months of bed rest?
I read a devotional by Oswald Chambers. "Have we come to the place where God can withdraw His blessings and it does not affect our trust in Him?"
Hmm. Can I trust Him? Do I trust Him? Again, having an unknown illness that made me too weak to fix my own breakfast was not exactly my idea of safety. Then again losing four friends in a year and living through the craziness of an earthquake weren’t on my list of life under God’s protection either. But they happened.
Was God still good through all that? Is God still good now? Who is God anyway?
I read the whole book of Job.
I read about Paul’s sufferings.
"Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthfulness of speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine yet regarded as imposters; known yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing and yet possessing everything." 2 Corinthians 6:4-10
I read 2 Corinthians 11:23-12:10.
These two men, giants of faith, still clung to God’s goodness, preached God’s goodness. They lived honorable lives yet experienced terrible things. They served God yet they suffered. And ultimately they still saw God as all powerful and as loving.
Who am I to question God? What do I know about goodness?
I read the last two books of Job
"Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!" Job 38:4
and some verses in Psalms.
"He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul." Psalm 23:2-3
He must be good. He has to be good. Whether life stinks or life is awesome, I have to believe He is good.
I read another devotional by Oswald Chambers.
"Faith by its very nature must be tried, and the real trial of faith is not that we find it difficult to trust God, but that God's character has to be cleared in our own minds...Faith in the Bible is faith in God against everything that contradicts Him--I will remain true to God's character whatever he may do." Oswald Chamerbs My Utmost for His Highest
Friday, October 22, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Illness and Identification
Sun poured into my kitchen windows, pushing the temperature in my house to tripple digits. A fan overhead hummed. A diesel generator outside moaned, and I turned over on the couch. A day before I'd discovered that if I lay on my right side, with my back toward the oscillating fan, the air might cool my neck long enough for me to catch a 20 minute nap.
And if it didn't work, I knew that if I just stayed still for the next 3 hours, the worst part of the day was over. So I'd lay there, listening to the hum-moaning and wait.
I did this off and on for 2 full weeks as my body fought off whatever little protozoa or bacteria had intruded into my intestines. And as I lay there I thought. Sometimes my thoughts were less than spiritual bursts of self-pity. "This really sucks. I hate this stupid country. Why can't I just sleep in an airconditioned house. I wish I could destroy that dumb generator."
But on other days, my thoughts walked out my front door and crossed the street to the Wesleyan Hospital, where on any given day 30 to 40 patients are lying in rooms much hotter than my living room, with nothing but a warm wind to blow on their backs. Is this what they feel like all the time?
I thought about their dirty sheets and the warm water they must drink, since most people don't have the luxury of a freezer or extra ice for drinks. These thoughts often led to self-depracating comments like, "Justine you're a big baby," and "You have no idea what suffering is."
They also led to prayers. "God comfort those people in the hospital. Heal their bodies. Guide the doctors and nurses. Help them know how to treat them." I wish I could say that living across the street from a 3rd world hospital leads me to pray prayers like this daily. I wish I could say I think often of the suffering of those who are always battling bouts of giardia, dengue fever, malaria, typhoid fever, and dysentery. And those who have no American haven to retreat to.
I wish I could tell you that I knew how extended sicknesses like this impact the income of already impoverished families and how lack of income leads to lack of food which leads to lack of strength and extended recovery time. I don't.
But during my bout with tropical illness, something amazing happened. I stopped pitying the poor and instead identified with them. "It's not fun to feel this weak. Boy I bet it's tough to earn a living if you're constantly battling sickness. Wow! I wonder if the people in the hospital actually sleep when it's hot like this." Though this alone isn't enough to change anything else, it is enough to change me. And that's a start.
And if it didn't work, I knew that if I just stayed still for the next 3 hours, the worst part of the day was over. So I'd lay there, listening to the hum-moaning and wait.
I did this off and on for 2 full weeks as my body fought off whatever little protozoa or bacteria had intruded into my intestines. And as I lay there I thought. Sometimes my thoughts were less than spiritual bursts of self-pity. "This really sucks. I hate this stupid country. Why can't I just sleep in an airconditioned house. I wish I could destroy that dumb generator."
But on other days, my thoughts walked out my front door and crossed the street to the Wesleyan Hospital, where on any given day 30 to 40 patients are lying in rooms much hotter than my living room, with nothing but a warm wind to blow on their backs. Is this what they feel like all the time?
I thought about their dirty sheets and the warm water they must drink, since most people don't have the luxury of a freezer or extra ice for drinks. These thoughts often led to self-depracating comments like, "Justine you're a big baby," and "You have no idea what suffering is."
They also led to prayers. "God comfort those people in the hospital. Heal their bodies. Guide the doctors and nurses. Help them know how to treat them." I wish I could say that living across the street from a 3rd world hospital leads me to pray prayers like this daily. I wish I could say I think often of the suffering of those who are always battling bouts of giardia, dengue fever, malaria, typhoid fever, and dysentery. And those who have no American haven to retreat to.
I wish I could tell you that I knew how extended sicknesses like this impact the income of already impoverished families and how lack of income leads to lack of food which leads to lack of strength and extended recovery time. I don't.
But during my bout with tropical illness, something amazing happened. I stopped pitying the poor and instead identified with them. "It's not fun to feel this weak. Boy I bet it's tough to earn a living if you're constantly battling sickness. Wow! I wonder if the people in the hospital actually sleep when it's hot like this." Though this alone isn't enough to change anything else, it is enough to change me. And that's a start.
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