Saturday, December 7, 2013

Grace Exceeds the Sum of Our Fears

       In watching The Sum of All Fears last night I realized that the title as well as the plot spoke volumes about the Christian life and facing trials. While God is undoubtedly reigning and ruling the universe, even down to the tiniest molecule, the enemy has been given some measure of freedom to wreck havoc on creation and in God’s people’s lives for a season. Jesus conquered him on the cross, crushing his head and declaring eternal victory over his rule, yet his final destruction won’t occur until the end of time. So he works to create situations and to orchestrate problems that will stir up in us the sum of all our fears so that we’re left powerless, without a passion for God’s glory and his Kingdom.
     As I was watching the movie, I started thinking back on the times over the past 25 years as a Christian that I faced the most overwhelming sorrow and fear, when circumstances seemed to say there was no hope and I should give up. One common theme throughout these experiences was that they equaled the sum of my fears – those things I dreaded most in life. As I reflected on them, I saw that in the middle of these earthshaking, emotion-gripping experiences God beautifully sustained me, provided for all my needs and never allowed me to be destroyed as I’d imagined.
     It's easy to look at past tragedies and say, “But I was left to suffer intensely.” These memories of rigorous suffering block us from seeing and appreciating the greater reality that God did provide relief, healing, restoration and deliverance after a season. The fact that we had to experience those things we dreaded most can leave us with a rift with God and an uncertainty that we can trust him to take care of and protect us in the future. If this happens, we tend to lose our passion to live for his Kingdom and his will and gravitate instead toward self preseveration and comfort. We lose our saltiness and begin to look and act like the rest of the world instead of who we are – children of the most amazing God of the universe.
     When I was a young girl I was raped repeatedly and no one was there to stop it or to protect me. That experience shaped me for the next ten years, and though I’ve been through a lot of healing it’s something I’ll never forget. I’ve wondered why that had to happen to me, why my parents divorced when I was small and my father wasn’t interested in getting to know me, why I struggled with certain things that others didn’t have to endure. Then I wondered for many years why God waited so long to bring me the husband I so wanted, why he allowed us to go through severe testing in the ministry, why he let me suffer from chronic fatigue for up to five years. I wondered why our daughters had certain struggles, why we had to move to Korea when I never wanted to leave the country, why others would ever do and say things to me that were so hurtful. And the list goes on.
     I’ve faced my greatest fears on more than one occasion. But the sum them does not equal defeat. They only represent the middle of the story, rather than the end. When reading any good novel, I rarely give up at a point of great tragedy, since it’s obvious that the author has a plan to reveal more details and likely to bring about change. In fact, I’m usually so sure of a better ending that I skip to the last few pages for reassurance that everything is going to somehow be sorted out and redemption will follow distress and loss.
     As Christians, we know that God promises to sort everything out in the end, that when we enter his presence all sorrow and pain will be removed. But even in this life we’re promised that God will restore us from trials, that he’ll be there with great power to lift us up out of the pits of life and bring deliverance, renewed strength, and a deeper understanding of his unfathomable love. For a season we may face our greatest fears, but he guarantees they won’t consume us. Joy will come in the morning. In 1 Peter 5:10, we’re given this promise: “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” In reflecting on my past tragedies I can see the “already” of him working them out for good. He’s never abandoned me, never left me in a pit. He’s always, at the right time, lifted me up and brought about life-transforming restoration. Though the painful memories are sometimes more present than I’d like, he even uses these to give me compassion for others who are suffering through similar trials (2 Cor 1:3-11). He takes every ingredient in the enemy’s attempt to bring destruction and makes a redemptive masterpiece in its place.
     In light of this reality it makes no sense to dwell on the trauma experienced in the middle of suffering, but rather to focus on the ensuing chapters when God begins putting the pieces back together in a healing and restorative way. I, like you, may have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, but we don’t have to allow the enemy or our emotions to distract and terrify us with the sum of all our fears. Instead, we can be certain that as Christians our trials never have a tragic ending. God reaches down, every time, and redeems what looks impossibly broken, no matter how terrible it appears. He gives us beauty for our ashes, and makes everything lovely in his time (Is 61:3, Ecc 3:11). With this certainty, we have all that we need to face today and the rest of our lives with courage and confidence. While we can’t predict what will happen, we know that God has promised that he’ll not only get us through it, but that we’ll come through with great victory (1 Jn 5:4).