i don’t understand and i don’t understand
These are the two things that I know about suffering.
Recently my husband and I suffered a painful, shattering rejection. And I won’t try to speak for him, but for myself it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever suffered emotionally.
I suffered having things said of me by people I greatly respect that were painfully untrue and unjust. But worse than that, I suffered the pain of doubt and despair because I felt like God had abandoned me. I was following, to the best of my knowledge and ability what God had told me to do and he allowed this misjudging, this rejection. I felt like I had been deluding myself thinking that I was hearing the voice of God in the first place.
And I don’t understand.
But, in the middle of the pain, I had a thought. If I’m suffering injustice, I’m in good company. My Lord Jesus also had painful things said of him that were unjust and untrue. And, while I felt like God had abandoned me, I knew in my heart of hearts that was untrue, that God was still with me, will always be with me. But Jesus, who had known complete and perfect fellowship with his Father suffered the withdrawal of that communion on the cross.
And in my suffering, I get to be a little more like Jesus. And if I suffer quietly, I get to be more like Jesus. And if I don’t try to justify myself or defend myself, but rest in what I know God feels about me, I get to be more like Jesus.
But anything that I have suffered is paltry compared to the suffering of my boy everyday of his life. Everyday he suffers a body that is broken. Everyday he suffers a mind that is confused. Everyday he suffers pain and indignity and frustration and chaos.
And I think of what Jesus said of the man who was born blind, . . . this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.
And I don’t understand.
But I believe. I believe that somehow God is glorified in Isaac’s life, that somehow he is glorifying himself by not healing. And I believe that God has plans for Isaac, plans to prosper him and not to harm him, plans to give him hope and a future.
And I know that anything my son suffers is paltry compared to what the Son suffered.
And I think that one of the ways that God is glorifying himself is in us believing when we don’t understand. And I think in the getting to be like Jesus part of suffering God is glorifying himself in us. The more quietly I suffer, the louder is Christ in me.
I don’t understand.
But I believe.
I think my prayer today is, “Lord, give me a heart like Anna’s….” Your transparency humbles and challenges me. Thank you for sharing so honestly and intimately.
Amy
March 20, 2008 at 7:09 am
I don’t understand either. And yet I also believe. Well done, Anna. Your writing is powerful in its simplicity, and I pray it helps others to accept the state of believing without understanding. “Now we see through a glass darkly . . .”
creece
March 20, 2008 at 8:58 am
Well said Anna! I have found that in my lack of understanding, my faith has room to grow. In those times we don’t understand, there may be a human tendency to turn away as we try to solve or rationalize. However, if we simply come to Him in our lack of understanding, He teaches us truths that we may not have learned in any other way. Thank you for your honest sharing.
Blessings,
Karen
Karen Swim
March 20, 2008 at 9:11 am
I don’t think I’ve read anything more helpful, lately, in describing my state as a believer in a fallen world: “I don’t understand, but I believe.” This is foolishness to the world, but wisdom in the spirit, and I will carry through the remainder of this season. Thank you, friend.
Laurie Nichols
March 20, 2008 at 10:38 am