Yesterday someone confirmed something that, admittedly, I was sure had happened. I hadn’t given my assumption room to manifest the thought, but when it was confirmed, I wasn’t shocked. I felt sad, disappointed; I felt that it wasn’t fair, but I wasn’t surprised.
I know that as adults we have the liberty (at least we ought to) to make decisions that are best for ourselves. But often we make decisions that relieve a pain or take away an unpleasant feeling. It may not be the best decision in the long run, but it gives one a sense of control short term. I think we often sacrifice the best of tomorrow, to feel good, relieved, or free, today. That’s not ok, yet how do you endure painful situations?
These days I am doing my best to not assume what a person should persevere and what they ought to walk away from. But I do find myself asking God certain questions: why didn’t He do x, y, z. Why didn’t he help? Why didn’t he intervene before things got out of hand?
On one hand, everyone has the right to their choices—wrong or right. God doesn’t force himself.
On the other, I also know that He is a still small voice that directs us; and perhaps where he is directing is contrary to what we desire, and that’s hard to accept. He prompts you to go right, but because of fear, uncertainty, loyalty or sense of duty to someone or something, you insist on going left. But if the best of what He has for you is in the direction he is pulling you, are you willing to endure what comes with it, or is the good that he has worth relinquishing for the sake of your pride, your emotions, your healing?
Sometimes it feels unfair to make this decision, because you’re forced to endure suffering for a glory that, in the moment, is irrelevant. You want justice, you want someone to take responsibility, you want the pain to go away; you want to reverse every decision you’ve made that made you blind to this space you’ve found yourself in. There are bitter things that happen; indeed, you find yourself in your own garden of gethsemane, travailing, wishing this bitter cup to be taken from you.
There’s a scripture in Matthew where Jesus is talking about how there’ll be wars and rumors of wars; that many false prophets will come and deceive many; but the line that caught my attention was this: but those who endure until the end will be saved.
A lot of this life is enduring. As an immigrant, you come to a foreign place for a better life, knowing that returning to your home country you’ll never realize your potential, so you endure a land, a people and a culture that’s often hostile to you. You do so for a better future. We endure jobs for many seasons; we endure living in certain areas, we endure because we are looking at the better that is ahead.
I know that it’s not everything in life that you must endure. But what is it that’s worth enduring, and what is it that we ought to walk away from? Which advice is worth listening to, and which should be put aside? Is what is on the other side of endurance worth it? If God says it’s worth it, is that enough for you to endure this cross?
I know that some of these things are easier said than done; that we can easily look at a person’s pain and see how they lack maturity or discipline or knowledge, or whatever. But even those who are competent can be reduced to incompetency and immaturity because of hurt. And in this state, I wish we’d all learn to rest in Jesus. Express yourself freely, cry freely, or just sit quietly in him. Lay all your disappointed expectations bare. Lay them for him to see. Be honest about how you feel, and rest. Let Him minister to you, so that you can arise in strength, and continue to be strengthened until you’re strong enough to continue.
There was a time where there was so much conflict and turmoil around me, and I felt ready to give up, but I remember the Holy Spirit reminding me to not let go just because trouble has come because of the word; that if I endure it, I’ll receive the promise. I meditated on the fact that Jesus, for the joy that was set before him endured the cross. Those he loved betrayed, abandoned, forsook him. But he endured it all for the joy set before him. People haven’t changed. But if we are to possess what God has promised, we must despise the shame, criticisms, betrayals; we must learn to stand our ground, and after you’ve done everything, to stand.
The enemy of our lives has no mercy; and he isn’t above using anyone to destroy us.
Amid those sudden, unexpected blows, we must learn to let God succour us so that, in our pain, we do not surrender God’s promise to us. And afterward, he’ll help us to attain, to possess and even restore what the enemy breached. And with that restoration, he’ll gift you with wisdom too.
