Wednesday, November 10, 2010

He Wounds and He Heals

“See, I am the only God. There are no others. I kill, and I make alive. I wound, and I heal…” (Deut. 32:39)

Dear Father,

These last few months have been the most difficult months internally and physically I have ever known. This is not my attempt to really understand “why” nor do I think you owe me anything. All I want is to learn what you want me to learn and be free of the suffering. But I have learned an even greater, much more difficult-to-swallow truth—you have not only allowed this period of hardship in my life, but you DESIGNED it. You wound and you heal.

I’ve always had a head-knowledge of that reality—that you use all things for good for those you love according to your will. But it’s one thing to know that and a completely different thing to believe it when the darkness is suffocating you without relief. It’s one thing to believe you are good when everything is going as planned and when I am healthy and comfortable. But I have to go to a whole other level to believe you are good when I know that you in your divine sovereignty planned this storm. It is one thing to say I trust you when I am succeeding at my dreams, but it’s a whole other animal to trust in you when my whole world is shaken and I feel like every day is my last.

This is what I’m learning through this season of suffering: you wound and you heal, but you do it because you love me, and you know what I need. You know where I must be refined and you know that sharing in Christ’s sufferings is always an opportunity for me to know you more. And you know that the world is a mess filled with broken, hurting people that need to know that your Gospel was meant for them; the more I can identify with the sufferings of Christ and of others, the more I believe you can use me.

Not being well for so long for so many inexplicable reasons has really taken its toll on my heart and my mind. I’ve felt so misunderstood by others as I concurrently struggle with understanding myself. I’ve come up with a lot of logical, probable causes for my health problems, the latest of which has been relentless anxiety accompanied by terrifying panic attacks. For one, I have run myself ragged for the last 6 years of my life, always striving and stressing; for that, I blame no one but myself. Two, I’ve been through a lot of emotionally trying things that perhaps I haven’t properly dealt with, like wounds from past relationships, my parents’ divorce, and believing lies about you and who you say I am. But I’ve come to the realization that it doesn’t really matter so much why I’m going through this trying time nor should my response be to fix it and make it go away. That is what comes naturally, but it is fruitless. I want to know you more through this, Father, and I want to come out of it closer to you than I’ve ever been.

Everything in my life since I’ve quit med school has pointed me to what you are trying to teach me—that my suffering will never match what my sin deserves, and that NOTHING is outside of your sovereign control. Studying the book of Isaiah has shown me how you use both good and evil to discipline and correct your people.

Listening to the Desiring God series of sermons on your sovereignty in suffering has encouraged me immensely. I really valued what Joni Eareckson Tada said about the crosses that we carry—she, a quadriplegic, made it a point to say that her wheelchair is NOT her cross to bear; she reminded Christians everywhere to never equate our cross with our sufferings. For instance, going through this period of anxiety, my migraines, and my losses in this world are not the crosses I bear. The only cross I bear is my sinful nature—my flesh that must die daily so that I can be as you intended me to be. Your image in me that is so marred can only be restored if I allow you to purge me of my prideful independence from you. You use suffering to bring us to a place of humility where we willing take up that cross and receive the life Jesus died for us to have.

So I guess through all this, I have realized that the sufferings on this earth will never end; my hope is found in you alone, and the harvest of the hope is sown mostly in Heaven, not here. I’m beginning to understand that yes, Jesus did conquer fear, death, sickness, sin, and Satan on the cross, and because Christ lives in me, I am your child and share in His inheritance. But here is the key: only you determine how much of that inheritance I get to experience this side of Glory. I can pray for healing, and you can heal and sometimes will, but not always, for you also get glory from providing the grace to endure. I can ask you anything with confidence, but I must be willing to receive anything with joy.

If Jesus’ execution on the cross was your doing (Acts 2:22), then why should I expect anything less in my life: “For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for him (Philippians 1:29).” Father, show me how to endure suffering as a good soldier (2 Timothy 2:3) for I know without a doubt that I struggle not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, authorities, powers, and spiritual forces of evil that war against me because Satan is a roaring lion crouching at my door who wants to have me (Eph 6:12; 1 Pt 5:8)! ! Help me, Father, through your Spirit, to claim authority over the enemy’s schemes, and assist me as I dress in your armor morning after morning to run the race set before me.

Thank you for never leaving me or forsaking me; thank you for sending Jesus to take my punishment—I rejoice that the One inside of me is greater than the one in this world, for Christ has overcome the world (Jn 16:33)! And he is greater than my heart, even when my heart condemns me (1 Jn 3:20).

Lead me and guide me I pray, Lord, as I seek to live a life worthy of you. And protect me from the evil one, in Jesus name. Amen.

Hosea 6:1, “Come, let us return to the LORD. He has torn us to pieces but he will heal us; he has injured us but he will bind up our wounds.”