When Bad Things Happen to Good Friends

Life has been running rather smoothly for our family the last few weeks, minus a few inconvenient trailer issues, and a couple cases of the sniffles.  School is over for the summer, and we are enjoying our summer break.  The Lord has given us some great meetings, and we are excited about what He is doing.  Sometimes in the euphoria of the “good life,” we can be oblivious to what is happening in the lives of those around us.

This morning, I was reading a blog post by a dear friend of mine, and I found that she had some very unexpected, scary news.  My eyes filled with tears as I read her candid thoughts as she faces this uncertainty.  Her testimony is so precious.  Many people are already praying for her right now, and I know that she is trusting God for grace during this time. 

What is the typical response when a friend goes through a trial?  We assure them that we are praying, and perhaps for a few days or weeks, we do.  Notes, cards, and phone calls fly during the initial stages of whatever the trial may be, but after a while, we get on with our lives, and that person falls by the wayside.  The longer the duration of the trial, the fewer people are around to offer encouragement.  I do not want to be a “fair weather friend” who neglects to pray for my hurting friends when they are in the deepest part of the valley.  Here are a few Biblical ways to help a friend who is going through a trial.

1.  Weep with them that weep. Romans 12:15

2.  Rejoice with them that do rejoice.  - Romans 12:15

3.  Bring them before the Lord in prayer.  - Philippians 4:6; Psalm 62:8

4.  Encourage them in the Lord.  - Colossians 3:16

5.  Remember that God’s way is perfect, even though we may not understand it.  - Psalm 18:30

Sometimes, we do not know what to say to a friend who is hurting deeply.  Many times we do not want to bring up an uncomfortable topic, especially if we have never experienced something similar.  For example, someone long ago said to me, “I always think about Nathan on his birthday, but I don’t want to bring it up and make  you sad.”  My answer was, “I am already thinking about it.  It helps to know that someone else remembers, too.”  Sometimes the elephant in the room needs to be addressed.  Be discerning, and try to do for that friend what you would want someone to do for you in the same situation.  Allow them the freedom to discuss their thoughts and fears.  Assure them of your prayers, and then PRAY  for them.  Every day.  Every time the Lord brings them to mind.  Let them know you are praying from time to time, and that you have not forgotten them.  Knowing that others are praying is such an encouragement, and can lift the spirits like nothing else.

Remembering Nathan–Ten Years

I can hardly believe it has been ten years.  Some days  it seems an eternity ago, and others, it seems as if it was only yesterday.  It was ten years ago that a very difficult pregnancy ended several weeks early, and my second child came into the world.

It was ten years ago, as I lay on the operating table after an emergency C-section, violently shaking with the aftereffects of the anesthesia, that I wondered where my baby was.  I groggily asked the anesthesiologist if it was a boy or a girl, but he wasn’t sure.  I thought that was odd, but in that post-op state of mind, I figured that maybe he just didn’t know.  After a few more minutes, I asked again.  This time, he answered slowly, reluctantly, “It’s a boy, but he is having a hard time breathing.”

It was ten years ago that I began praying for my son, begging God to help him breathe, pleading for the life of my son.

It was ten years ago that God answered my prayer, not with the answer I so desperately wanted to hear, but with a sorrowful, “No, Sarah.  My grace is sufficient for thee.”  As I lay on the table, I knew. My son was not going to live.

It was ten years ago that my husband and I heard the news from the doctor, “Your son has responded to the latest round of treatment, but I’m afraid it is too little, too late.  It will only give you enough time to say goodbye.”

It was ten years ago that I held my dying baby in my arms, touching his tiny face, watching him struggle, and still praying, hoping that God would do a miracle.

It was ten years ago that for the first time, I realized the magnitude of God’s love for me.  I would not have traded my son’s life for any price, if I had had the choice, but God sent His Son, His only beloved Son, to die for me, to taste death in my place, to pay the price for my sin, and not for mine only, but for the sins of the whole world.

It was ten years ago that my husband and I committed the tiny life that God had given us so briefly back to the Giver.  Nathan, our gift, a precious few moments of life committed to our care, left our earthly arms to rest in the eternal arms of Jesus.

It was ten years ago that I entered the valley of the shadow of death.  My world came to a total standstill.  It was the darkest, bleakest time of my life.  The sleepless nights and tearful days became the new “normal.”  The huge, painful lump in my throat became bigger, and finally settled in my chest, making conversation difficult, and laughter impossible.

It was ten years ago that I claimed by faith, God’s promise, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”  Faith was the only way I could claim that promise, because I could not envision or even imagine a morning of joy. 

It was ten years ago that I decided I would not give up on God because He had allowed this tragedy in my life.  I read my Bible, prayed, attended church, all the while secretly wanting to slap the next person that quoted Romans 8:28 to me.  Oh, I knew that God did work out all things for my good, but I really didn’t want a verse flippantly quoted to me by someone whose life had never been shattered into pieces.  It sounds scandalous for me to say such a thing, but it is the absolute and candid truth.

It was ten years ago that I began to know and experience, in a whole new way, God’s sustaining grace.  The strength that helped me to get out of bed each day, to care for my young son, Josiah.  The grace to endure thoughtless comments, when all I wanted to do was lash out in hurt.  The grace to see other mothers hold their babies when mine was gone.  The grace to reach out to others when my own grief was so great.

It was ten years ago that God began to give me a deeper compassion for people who are hurting.  Even now, when I hear of the death of a child, a miscarriage, or stillbirth, my heart breaks for those who have lost that precious child, because I know the terrible, overwhelming grief and loss.  I can truly sympathize because I have been there. 

Yes, it was ten years ago that Nathan came into my life.  My life is forever changed because of the hour that I had with him.  The sorrow is still there, but it no longer casts a shadow over everything.  I still cry when I think about my son.  I still miss him and mourn his loss.  I still feel guilty when I say I have four children, rather than five, simply because I cannot talk about it without crying.  However, I know I will see him again some day.  I will be able to share with him the love that I hold in my heart, and in that day, I will, for the first time, truly understand all that God was doing in my life. 

These are a few of the lessons I have learned in the last ten years:

1.  God’s grace is always sufficient.

2.  Romans 8:28 is still true, even when it doesn’t feel true.

3.  Joy  will come in the morning.  The night of weeping may be long, but eventually, the dawn will come.

4.  God loves me.  Enough to send His Son to die for me. 

5.  People really do care, but sometimes they don’t know how to let you know.

6.  Life is uncertain.  Treasure every moment.

7.  God’s plan for your life is good, acceptable, and perfect, even though you may not understand it.

8.  Faith will sustain you through any trial.

Bitterness

It may seem strange to address this topic, but in recent years I have seen so much destruction of life and ministry due to bitterness.  I believe every person has the choice to be joyful or to be bitter, simply due to the fact that all of us have been, or will be at some future point, hurt by someone else.  Bitterness is like an infection in the body.  The wound can be superficial or devastating, but the infection can be deadly!

Once as a child, I had a small cut or bee sting on the bottom of my foot.  It was summertime, and I usually ran around barefoot, the soles of my feet like leather.  Gravel driveways didn’t even make me flinch! I came in to wash up for dinner one evening, and my mom saw a red line running up my leg, almost to the knee.  It was blood poisoning—apparently, the miniscule wound had gotten dirty and it was endangering my health.  If left for a few more hours, it could have been life-threatening!  The surprising thing to me was that I had not noticed it.  It didn’t hurt, and I felt just fine.  A quick trip to the doctor ensued, and after several days of treatment, I was back to normal.  Mom did try to encourage me to keep my shoes on for some reason. :)

Bitterness is like that blood poisoning.  It enters unnoticed through a wound and begins spreading its poison throughout the body.  Too many times, the bitter person does not even realize that they have a problem.  In fact, most of the time, the bitterness is noticed by other people first.  Sadly, when the diagnosis is made, the bitter person denies the problem, or worse, justifies the infection.  “Of course I’m bitter—don’t you know what they did to me?  I have a right to feel this way because I have been hurt!” Instead of allowing the healing balm of God’s Word, and the love and concern of fellow Christians to minister to that hurt by purging out the infection, the bitter person snaps and snarls like a wounded animal, closely guarding the festering hurt.  The ones who love that person are forced to watch helplessly as that person’s bitterness-induced choices slowly destroy them.

Bitterness always spreads.  The Bible warns of bitterness and how it can defile many.  It has never been easier to spread bitterness and discord than in today’s world of social networking.  One person spouts off about how they have been hurt, and instantly, hundreds of people take up the cause.  Most of the time, the person initiating the bitterness session doesn’t even present all the facts—just their twisted side of the story.  Implications, insinuations, misrepresentations,  and plain old lies are posted for the world to see.  People, churches, pastors, friends, and relatives are publicly maligned.  This is so far from Christian behavior!  What happened to going to the offender and seeking to restore the relationship?  What is worse, “the simple believeth every word!”  People who barely know the offended and may not even know the offender sit at their computers and phones and condemn the offender, who half the time doesn’t even know that he has offended someone!  This is rank carnality, and should never be condoned!  I don’t care if it is your life—you don’t have the right to spread your poison to others!

Another sad fact is that once a person has become bitter, they are prone to further injury by the slightest act.  Just as an infected wound causes excessive tenderness in surrounding areas, the poison spreads throughout the body, damaging other members, causing more pain.  If the infection is allowed to progress, soon it will be impossible to touch any area of the body without it hurting.  The bitter person becomes suspicious of everyone’s words, actions, and motives.  Everyone has an ulterior motive, and the concept of trust is left out of the equation.

Much is said about dealing with past hurts and learning to move on, but I believe the only way to truly move on with life after terrible hurt is to let go of the pain!  As long as you are holding on to those offences, you can never move past the hurt.  I vividly remember a time of great personal pain in my own life.  Someone very close to me was intentionally trying to destroy my life.  I did everything I could to repair the situation, but to no avail.  It was a source of great hurt and I struggled with my emotions for a long time.  However, one day, the Spirit of God so clearly spoke to my heart and said, “You can allow this to make you bitter, or you can allow this to make you better.”  It was that simple.  I saw the choice before me, and by God’s grace, I made the choice to forgive, even though that person never sought my forgiveness, denied that any wrong had been committed, and bitterly accused me of sinning against him.  The relationship was never reconciled, and though saddened by this person’s loss, I resolved to move past the hurt and allow God to reward us both according to our deeds.

For you, my hurting friend,it is time to let go of those wounds, whether petty or great, and let God heal your life.  Pour in the Word of God and allow Him to cleanse out the bitterness.  Do not let your bitterness destroy your life, or be a stumbling block to others.  The Bible states, “It is impossible but that offences will come.”  Life is not without pain.  Learn to deal with it, and allow God to give you the peace and joy that true forgiveness brings!

Still Thankful #3

One of the hardest things to be thankful for is a trial or hardship.  Too many times we tend to thing of those as something less than a blessing.  I was talking with a friend earlier this year who survived breast cancer.  I asked her how it affected her, and without hesitation she answered, “It was the best thing that ever happened to me!”  While that may sound strange at first, I knew exactly what she meant by that statement.  The cancer was not the best thing – the process of dealing with the cancer was the best thing.

Sometimes it takes tremendous personal hardship to come to grips with who we are and, more importantly, who our God is.  If life was just a bowl of cherries or a bed of roses, we would never have any depth to our being.  It is the difficult times that stretch us, teach us, and help us to grow.  I am thankful that my own personal tragedy has allowed me to become stronger as a person, as well as more sensitive to those who are hurting.  I am thankful for a loving God who extends His comfort and peace in my darkest hour.  I am thankful for the promise that one day all tears will be wiped away from my eyes.  Those trials really are blessings in disguise.