Good Purposes In Suffering

Rebecca offers some good thoughts on suffering here...

1. Suffering works to advance the gospel. In these two cases, it’s the suffering of persecution that helps spread the gospel, but I’m sure other kinds of suffering can work this way, too.

   I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ (Philippians 1:12-13 ESV).
   
   Now those who were scattered because of the persecution that arose over Stephen traveled as far as Phoenicia and Cyprus and Antioch, speaking the word to no one except Jews. But there were some of them, men of Cyprus and Cyrene, who on coming to Antioch spoke to the Hellenists also, preaching the Lord Jesus. And the hand of the Lord was with them, and a great number who believed turned to the Lord (Acts 11: 19-21 ESV).

2. Suffering spurs other believers to faith in Christ.  It may be that I should have included this verse with item #1, but I’m not sure. I’m thinking that it might not be saying here that Paul’s suffering advances the gospel, but rather that Paul’s faithfulness in affliction would spur other believers to keep on trusting God through difficult times. What do you think?

…always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you (2 Corinthians 4:10-12 ESV).

3. Suffering shows our weakness, demonstrating Christ’s power in us. 

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 of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:9-10 ESV).

4. Suffering teaches us to trust God and not our own abilities. This is similar to #3, except this time the lesson is for us rather than others.

For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead (2 Corinthians 1: 8-9 ESV).

5. Suffering shows the genuineness of our faith. 

….you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1: 6-7 ESV).

6. Suffering produces righteousness in us.

It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? …..For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it (Hebrews 12:7, 11 ESV).

….we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope… (Romans 5:3-4 ESV). Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing (James 1:2-3 ESV).

7. Suffering makes us value and long for what is eternal.

For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:17-18 ESV).

8. Suffering brings us heavenly reward. 2 Corinthians 4:17 (directly above) could be used as a text here, too.

….we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us (Romans 8:17-18 ESV).

9. Suffering give us the ability to comfort and encourage others in their suffering. We suffer and God comforts us, and our experience of God’s comfort enables us to comfort others.

…the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4 ESV).

HT / Challies

Grief

It's an ugly word really, but everyone at some point will experience grief - profound grief.  I know a little of that feeling.  I know many who know more.  I was thankful to come across this blog during some personal struggles.  Perspective is everything...


The officer came to me. "You may see him now, Ma'am. You don't have to if you don't wish to, but you may if you would like. And I must tell you, this is your last chance."

Of course, I will see him. Of course, I will see him.

His dad traveled the stairs with me, and together we entered my bedroom, now an absent scene with remnants of urgency, panic, and medical intervention. My bed was wrecked; pillows were strewn all over. The carpet was wet. Medical paraphernalia was scattered all over. In the midst of it all, there lay my husband. He was intubated, with my bed sheet covering him from the chest down. 

I was carefully instructed not to lift the sheet, and I absolutely obeyed. They had done all they could, and I am confident my bedroom was an operating room. What hid under that sheet need never enter my mind.

I knelt over him, and I wept. I cried for many things, for his life, for his death, for his sons, for his wife, for his dreams and mine. I cried for things I don't even know yet. My father-in-law held me and said, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

I didn't wish to look at Robb's face. It didn't look like him. But I looked just long enough to confirm one thing: he looked just the same when his eyes were locked with mine. He died with me.

He died with me.

I rubbed his prickly head, the shaved cut I loved so much. And I thought to myself,Remember this. Remember this. Remember this.

I held his hand, the only part of him that still looked like him. His fingers were cold and white; his fingernails were purple. But it was his hand, the very hand I held on our first date, on our wedding day, as we prayed over each meal together, as we sat together in church, as our sons were born. I kissed his palm. I slipped his wedding ring off his finger and onto my thumb.

I kissed his forehead. 

"I'll love you forever, Robb Williford. I'll love you forever."

There are many things I do not understand, and there are many questions in my mind. But I am confident of three things:

1. He died fighting. He pushed himself up, he leaned against the wall, and he fought to stay alive until his eyes held mine.

2. He died knowing I was fighting for him. He heard me screaming for him, to him, for God, to God. He knew I fought for him, with his dying breath.

3. I know where my hope and my husband rest: with the Lord Jesus Christ. I may have no idea how to walk the path of tomorrow, this week, or next year, but my hope is sure. I will see my husband again. And in the meantime, I long to dream of him. I'd love to hear him laugh.

He died in my arms, and I will love him forever.

My help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth.

The Thing About Grief

Grief is a puzzling guest.

Its strokes are broad, from numb to panic, with a million shades of deep sadness in between.

Sometimes it is honest, teeming with memories and moments that were sacred and must remain forever etched in the core of our family.

Sometimes it is a liar, shouting things like, "You can't do this without him. How is one day different from another? Why even try, when everything leads to panic and exhaustion?"

Sometimes it is even more confusing and confounding, when it whispers those words instead. Lies are further misleading when they are merely whispers.

Sometimes grief is warm, welcoming, and patient, washing me with cleansing tears.

Sometimes grief is angry and mean, burning a hole in me, with no tears left in my dry well.

It tempts me to claim it as my strength. It invites me to claim this purple heart, this badge of courage: Look What Was Taken From Me. Look how I am allowed to feel, for as long as I want, without any reprimand. I am learning that there is a quiet power in holding on to hurt, and a blanket of comfort can swiftly become a security or an identity, without my even noticing.

But sometimes, grief brings joy. They are not mutually exclusive. I can laugh with my friends, tickle my boys, enjoy a good meal, and play my music loud... and still grieve that he is not here to do that with me. To hear about it all.

Joy is a knowing.

I've known joy that takes over my whole being, keeps me from standing still, spills and splashes, and makes my heart sing. For this season, grief is here, settled in, making its home, and showing me its every shade. We are becoming deeply acquainted.

But joy is a knowing. And the joy of the Lord is my strength.

I'll feel that way again.


Love in the Truth.


HT / Teaching Tuck and Ty  (Tricia's gift of writing is amazing - her transparency in suffering is inspiring - her hope and faith...go and read for yourself!)