I’ve spent the whole month of January wondering what I should write on my blog. Then this morning, I felt a culmination of events and other inputs that lead me to this not-so-novel thought: some suffering is for our good, and it shows God’s great love for us.
If you’ve ever prayed for patience, then you know that you quickly come to advise others not to do so. Yet, as a follower of Christ, I often pray to know Jesus better and expect that no hardships, tragedies, rejections, or disappointments will follow.
In the past year, my church has been hit with a series of tragedies. It seems like there’s a funeral every month, and the one this month was no less tragic than the others. Looking back on it, though, it’s clear that the mercies of God were at work, not His judgement. God brought people together who might never have come together without the sickness and loss of this one man. The Lord reconciled a family, offered my friend a second chance, and shined a great light through him to doctors and nurses who otherwise might never have noticed the difference Jesus makes in “the valley of the shadow of death.” (Psalm 100)
My heart breaks for those my friend left behind, but we know that he was ready to meet God before he was taken. There’s no greater consolation.
Hubby and I have been watching the miniseries, The Chosen, since it started streaming in 2020, and the latest episode we watched (Season 3, episode 3) contributed to my thoughts today. In it, Jesus revisits his hometown of Nazareth. His siblings are notably absent, not wanting to face His fame, according to the dialogue between Him and His mother Mary.
It’s Rosh Hashana and there’s a town celebration. His friends and family recount memories of his childhood, and He plays games with His old friends. Then he’s asked to speak in the synagogue. He reads from Isaiah 61 and announces solemnly to the family and friends gathered there, “This day is the scripture fulfilled.” His community, which once nourished and developed Him, rushes to condemn Him, throwing Him out of the synagogue and congregating to stone Him. The hurt and the sadness are clearly written on His face, but He confesses that He truly understands their rejection of Him. And yet He dies on a cross for them not long after.
James, the brother of Jesus who did not acknowledge Him as Messiah until after Jesus left earth, wrote, “Count it all joy when you fall into diverse temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” (James 1:2-4, KJV). (The rest of that chapter is enlightening, too.)
I’ve also been reading Sitting in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus, by Lois Tverberg, at night before going to bed. It’s a meaty little book, and this is my second or third time through it. One chapter really caught my attention a few days ago on the Jews’ inclination to “weigh the law,” i.e., decide which laws are heavier than other laws in comparison. Jesus pointed it out time and again our problem as humans, even as people who desire to do what’s right: we often do not choose the most loving option when two or more laws seem to be at play and conflict. Here’s the example Jesus used: who doesn’t lead his animal to water on the sabbath? In the same vein, why was it a problem for the Jews when Jesus healed someone on the sabbath? His ultimate goal was and still is to show the most love, no matter what the situation looks like to us.
God is good all the time, even in our suffering.
I hope that my ramblings help someone today. May your day be blessed with the knowledge of His amazing love for you.
