Tag Archives: Enduring hope

Endurance is not just holding on – it’s letting go

 

Sometimes life takes us down unexpected paths that twist and turn in directions we hadn’t considered taking, even those we would never ever have chosen to take. If the path is difficult and unpleasant, we often try to find a way out, an escape from the pain. It’s our basic nature to want to avoid pain and seek pleasure. You’ve been there, right?

 

At the same time, we recognize the truth in the popular adage, “No gain without pain.” And so we endure and persevere as long as we can see a better outcome at the end of the road. Most parents are faced with enduring the really tough parts of childrearing, trusting that our enduring efforts will help guide the maturing our our children. We don’t like surgery but we endure it because we believe in the good outcome it will produce. Nobody chooses chemo as a recreational drug but we endure it because of its potential to kill the disease that threatens to kill us.

 

But enduring is not just holding on. It’s learning to let go.

 

As Marcia and I were recently reading about “enduring” suffering, we found it interesting that the Spanish translation used the word “resisting.” It reminded us that enduring is not just clenching our teeth and impatiently waiting for pain to end. Enduring involves resisting the temptation to cling to what works against us. It means letting go of:

Fear
Anxiety
Lies
Feelings of hopelessness
Our sense that we can control everything
Self pity
…and more.

 

When you’re facing difficult times, aren’t these some of the things that cause you stress and maybe even make you feel like throwing in the towel? But when we seem to be at the end of our rope and we have no strength to hold on, there’s hope. God promises to never leave us alone in our troubles. He brings a certain strength to our weakness. He promises that he will show us peace even while the storm rages around and within us. He shows us the path to confidence that endurance pays off. He shines his light on a path of faith that leads us out of the valley of fear. The truth of his light exposes the lies we’re tempted to believe. He proves that even when our lives our spinning wildly out of control, he holds the whole universe in balance, and He reminds us that even the end of our lives are really just the beginning. He brings perspective where we only see confusion.

 

When we let go we can let God.

 

I’m writing this on my first day of my most recent chemotherapy, reflecting also on my “very first day of chemo” from nearly three years ago. Here’s the truth I’ve experienced throughout this unexpected journey, truth that I think is relevant to each of us who are enduring some level of hardship:

The weight of pain and suffering seems great, but an enduring faith reveals a greater joy yet to behold. This pain is light and momentary. It won’t last forever.

Not even pain can separate us from God’s love, unless we let it.

God is able to work good through ALL situations, if we let him.

Fixing our focus on him allows us escape the bondage of focusing exclusively on our problems.

Faith is like a bank account. You have to make deposits before you can take withdrawals.

Pain and suffering reveals who we really are and also who we want to become.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste. So is your life. Don’t waste your pain or sorrow. Enduring pain and resisting the lies our feelings tell us maximizes our potential to grow closer – to each other and to God.

 

Let’s resist the impulse to quickly pray away every pain and sorrow, and instead ask for the strength and grace to endure it while we draw closer to God and closer to others on the unexpected path we share. Let’s not only hold on. Let’s let go of everything that trips us up and keeps us from God’s best.

 

Enduring hope

 

 

“Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence.” Psalm 42:5 NASV

 

Do you ever talk to yourself? It can be a healthy thing to do, especially when you find your feelings are at odds with what you know to be truth. You feel like giving up but you know better to press on. You feel all alone but you know that God will never leave you. You feel unloved and yet you know the lover of your soul is always faithful.

 

David talked with himself to convince his turbulent and noisy soul to listen to his spirit which was aligned with God. You see, we are made of three parts: body, soul, and spirit. And these three components don’t always concur with one another. They have to be coaxed along to get in line with the truth. The body wants junk food; the emotional soul agrees saying, “You deserve it.” The spirit speaks truth. The body complains about being always tired or hurting. The spirit says to put your eyes on God, press on. The soul questions whether it is worth it. The soul says, “I’m depressed, discouraged, downcast.” The body quickly agrees. The spirit says, “Remember your God and put your hope in Him. He is always faithful. Even when it seems He has abandoned you, He is still with you. His love never ever fails. Praise Him, not just for the relief from despair. Praise Him for the help of His presence. He will guide you through the paths you have not traveled before; He knows the way. (Psalm 73:24)

 

Our part is to choose to endure with hope and with thanks, in trouble, hardship, and distress, in sorrow and poverty. Though we have nothing, yet we possess everything. (2 Cor. 6:4,10)

 

Put your enduring hope in who God is, not just in what He can do. Live a life marked by his great faithfulness.

 

“Through Jesus therefore let us continue to offer to God a sacrifice of praise.” Hebrews 13:15

 

 

Faith that is fully persuaded

 

 

Which is bigger…your fears or your faith?

 

This past 15 months with Leukemia has not been without challenges, frets, pain and extraordinarily diminished strength. But it also hasn’t been without certain benefits: drawing closer to God, focusing more on relationships, refining one’s focus on priorities, and peace in reflecting on God’s faithfulness, goodness and mercy in the midst of difficulty.

During devotions yesterday, Marcia and I were discussing how we are coping with the situation. We surmised that we are doing well but also realized that someplace deep within, there are questions, doubts, and certain realities that contradict our mental assessment of the situation. It is a bit like driving on an icy road: you are confident the journey will end well, but still very much aware of the perilous plight.

Faith doesn’t only exist in the absence of questions. Faith rises up above them. The passage in Roman’s celebrating Abraham’s faith has always spoken to me about this:
“Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead—since he was about a hundred years old—and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised.” Romans 4:18-21

Did you catch it? “Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead.” And yet he was fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. Faith in the presence of unquestionable facts, hope against all hope.

That is what we face today too. We aren’t called to ignore the facts or pretend they don’t exist. We aren’t even always called to pray the facts away. We ARE called to always be faithful in the presence of our current reality, and to be fully persuaded that God has power to work his will, and that it will be plenty good.

Go ahead, bring your questions, your fears, even your doubts to God about your pain and sorrow. Keep the conversation open both ways and see if you too can find reason against all hope, to be fully persuaded that God will keep his promises to those who love him and believe in him.