Pain. Sorrow. Anguish.
There are times in life that we experience it deeply. You may know it. It is that place you find yourself asking… Why? Why God? It hurts so bad that the tears don’t even matter. In fact at times it hurts so bad you can’t even cry. Maybe you’ve wondered like I have. “Is something wrong with me?’ It runs so deep that it wears you out and you just want to sleep so you don’t have to think about it. But even in your dreams you are reminded of the pain. You may be tempted to self medicate with that vice that is your nemesis.
But, what if the pain is a gift? I know that does not sound right. It doesn’t seem to make sense. It doesn’t for me either. One day I was sitting in the hospital room with my mom having a pizza party. My sister, her husband and kids were there. My pregnant wife and young daughter were there. The room was filled with laughter and prayer and sorrow. We knew she was going in for a biopsy the next morning for a mass on her brain. A week later she was gone. My wife’s sister just recently passed away from cancer, just a few weeks from the diagnoses. The reminders of death and a broken messed up world seem to always be right in our faces. How is pain supposed to be a gift? I found myself saying a number of times in my life, “God, I don’t get it!”
Chapter 38 of Isaiah has some of the most profound words in regards to this topic. Hezekiah was told by the prophet Isaiah to get his house in order because he was going to die. “Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord, ‘Remember, Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done was is good in your eyes.’ And Hezekiah wept bitterly.” (Isaiah 38:2-3 NIV) Hmmm… A fairly simple yet profound prayer. Remember me God. That is really all he asked for. Is that what I would ask for? Is that what you would ask for? God, remember me… uh, except for… No, Hezekiah left it all in God’s hands. Somehow that prayer hit the ears and heart of God in such a way that He decided to add 15 years to Hezekiah’s life. God didn’t stop there. He also promised to deliver him and the city from Assyria.
All that stuff is pretty awesome, but here is what pierces my heart to the core. It is found in verse 17. You could easily miss it as I almost did. “Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish. In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back.” Wait? Did he just say it was for my benefit? Yes he did. I had to read it again. I just stopped right there. WOW. Ok, I understand the idea that “sufferings produce perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3-4 NIV) But this… this says it completely different. That somehow it is to my benefit that I suffer anguish? As I put those two together it makes sense in my head. Sure the benefit is perseverance, character and hope. But how do I reconcile that in my heart when the pain is so bad? Even Hezekiah refers to it as an anguish of his soul.
To be honest I am still trying to wrap my heart and mind around the idea of the benefit of anguish. I go back to my previous post when I talk about letting God hold my heart. I have a couple of choices in the deep pain. I could run. Run from everything and everyone. Self medicate myself. Sleep it away. But when I wake or come back from the slumber it is all still there. I could just get angry and bitter. I’ve seen that before. I don’t want that. There are probably a number of other options too. OR… I could hand over my heart. I could be completely and brutally honest with God. Wrestle through it with him. Lean into him and lean on him. Surrender. Trust. Allow God to turn those hard parts in my heart to soft fertile soil. Because they are there. When we are truly honest with ourselves we all know they are.
Of course, that begs the question,”Does God make these things happen then?” No, I don’t think so, but I’m also not God. What I do know is we live in a fallen world. It all started with the first sin. We live in a broken world as a result of that.
So, maybe there is a benefit of anguish. Is it an opportunity to hand things over, relinquish control, and trust that he will be all that I will ever need? To let go of the fear of the unknown? In the pain could he do something in me that I wouldn’t allow otherwise? That I am at the point where I say, “Ok God, my life, it is yours. Do with it what you will. Your will, not mine.” Was that not the prayer Jesus said at his time of anguish in the Garden?
Deep, beyond the pain therein the gift is to be discovered. It will look different for you than it does for me. Maybe the gift is not for you but for someone else. My wife and mother-in-law discovered a deep sense of loneliness in their loss. Yet they vowed they would never let one of their friends feel as alone as they have in their anguish. Their’s is a gift for someone else. In return it is a gift for them as well. They are now a comfort to those who mourn and it brings them joy. The gift we find beyond the pain is an odd but powerful thing.
We live in a deeply broken world that needs people of God who know the benefit of anguish. God knew it, so he sent His only son to experience it. Jesus knew it so he walked into to it. He in fact took upon him the greatest anguish of all. The full cup of God’s wrath for you and me.
As you celebrate our risen Lord this weekend do not forgot he experienced the greatest anguish of all so that we might experience and know his love that restores all things. And remember… In that great anguish He conquered sin and death!