Ever heard the old adage "be careful what you wish for?" Well as many Christians could probably attest, the same is true for prayer. Things like "Lord, teach me to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry," will most likely be answered by placing you in situations where you have very strong opinions about why the person across from you is WRONG! Likewise, prayers such as "Lord, I want to truly understand what Paul meant when he said, 'I have learned the secret to being content in any situation,'" are almost guaranteed to hand you blindsiding trials. How do I know this? I was the crazy person who prayed these prayers. (Back to back none-the-less.) What was I thinking?! I've known for years how God's schooling works. Sanctification is not for the faint of heart. In fact, I've gotten to the point now that when I feel the urge to pray one of these trial-inflicting prayers, I generally add a plea for protection on behalf of any who are in my general vicinity and have to endure me while I slip and slide my way through the lesson. I've heard it said, you learn more through failing than succeeding and if it's true then I must be living up to my last name.
In Disney's "An American Tale" Fievel's father says, "If growing up were easy, would it take so long?" I didn't get it as a kid. I remember thinking, "It's not that hard." But now that I'm older, I think I get it. At least from a spiritual standpoint. It would be much easier to stay a "child" in the faith. To sing "Jesus loves me this I know..." for the rest of my life. And he does. But he also want's me to become more like him. And that's hard. It's hard when you feel like no one appreciates all the hard work you do--Jesus knows this more than anyone! How many times did he have people coming to him merely to demand more of him? (By way of a side note, I have to say that I find it very interesting that there is no documented moment that I can think of when Jesus was alone with his disciples and he complained saying, "Man none of these crowds appreciate all that I do for them. I'd never say it to them, but really, are they blind?! They have no clue how much energy it takes to do what I do. This is exhausting! Honestly, it feels like I'm being taken advantage of. Maybe they should try being the Messiah for just one day. Maybe then they'd get it. I'm gonna go pray for God to increase my love for them because honestly I need it right now. Hey, thanks for listening guys, it was great to let off some steam..." I point this out with my tail tucked between my legs. But back to my original point--it's hard.) It's hard when you are told to turn the other cheek. To not judge your neighbor. To bless those who curse you. To walk two miles when you are asked to go one. Hard, hard, hard, hard.
Well, as you may have guessed by now, this week hasn't been fun or easy for me. (Well really the past month, but it came to a head in the last seven days.) But I've discovered something in the midst of my anger and guilt and failings and fatigue. God is standing in the middle of the storm with me. And it would be so easy to miss him. He isn't loud or boisterous. He doesn't have flashing neon signs or trumpets announcing his arrival. But he's there. He's there when I'm honest and say "I feel all alone." And he answers through the next song on the radio: "I'll be by your side wherever you go, in the dead of night whenever you call, and please don't fight these hands that are holding you. My hands are holding you." He's hears me say, "I feel guilty for wanting what I want," and answers in the new song introduced in our worship with a chorus calling Christians to let go of guilt. I say, "I know I shouldn't be worried but I am." He answers in the text we study in Sunday school: "Let not your hearts be troubled. You believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house there are many rooms, if it were not so, I would have told you. And I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go I will return for you..."
I say, "I don't know how to not be anxious" and he answers in the sermon which ironically enough is all about how to let go of anxiety.
And it finally clicked as I was externally processing with a friend yesterday. Trials are the classroom of faith. I used to think of them more like tornadoes. You do your best to survive them, and the more that come the more havoc they wreck. Best to avoid them at all costs because the next one may kill you. But for the first time I realized, scripture it right when it says that trials produce perseverance. This epiphany came when I heard myself saying, "You know, I don't think I could have handled this three years ago." Woah! Stop. Rewind. Play. If this statement is true (and I still believe it is) then it means God has given me strength that I once didn't possess. And I gained that strength through dealing with... you guessed it: Trials. Now that doesn't make them something I joyfully long for. But there is GREAT hope in the idea that I am gaining strength. That God is gaining ground in my heart and mind. That the level of what I can endure is actually growing. Because if something worse does come along one day, I know that I have a chance of surviving it. Because if something similar comes along in the future, it may be easier than it was this time. Because all those hard things I mentioned earlier may turn out to one day not be so hard after all. And for me (a girl who in the past six years has become a disillusioned realist as to the state of our broken world) these thoughts birth great HOPE.
So here's to the trials of life. Like medicine, they may not taste good going down, but, when placed in God's hands, they can work wonders.
