We mentioned in part one that storms come in many shapes and sizes. Again, whether yours feel minor or soul-destroying, I hope that one or more of these remaining insights from the relational storms that I’ve gone through recently will be healing and helpful.
Forgive. Some hurts are unintentional and come from people who really do love us. Moreover, even when their wounds were intentional, their behavior needs to be viewed against an overall backdrop mixed with love and care. Some harmful actions (slights, misrepresentations, injustice, abuse, etc.), however, come from those who turn out to be our enemies. In any of these scenarios, Jesus calls us to forgive and bless—even our enemies: “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you…” (Matt. 5:44, KJV)
This is one of the reasons I like the practice of saying the Lord’s Prayer together weekly as a church family. It reminds us that, as N.T. Wright observes, “I need forgiveness for myself… and I intend to live with forgiveness in my heart in my own dealings with others. (Notice how remarkable it is, at the heart of the prayer, we commit ourselves to live in a particular way, a way we find difficult.)”[1]
Use the maelstrom as a mirror and a listening post. The mirror image I’m using here is pretty straightforward, but what do I mean by “listening post”? I’m referring to something I learned from Eugene Peterson. He noted that there are times in life when we’re unpleasantly tethered to a situation we have little control over; we’re like a horse tied to a “listening post.” When we find ourselves in these seasons, we can either go with it, submit ourselves to God, and benefit from the forced stillness, or we can kick and pull, and– in our violence– miss the insights of the moment.
In processing both lies and legitimate critiques from others, what can we learn? None of us has arrived so how might we improve? Digging deeper, ask: Is there any pride in my perspective that’s causing blindness and needs to be eradicated? Is my integrity still intact? Or, to keep it intact, is there anything I need to do or refrain from doing? Do I need to go at a slower, more prayerful pace in my next season? Regarding this last question, I’ve learned that voices of hurry and aggression are usually counter to ministry done at Godspeed and in Jesus’ way (e.g. the way that looks similar to the Beatitudes in Matt. 5 or the “fruit” of the Spirit in Gal. 5). As my mother-in-law used to remind me, “God leads; Satan drives.”
Prepare to grow in compassion. As a rule, “men at ease have a contempt for misfortune” (Job 12:5), but when we go through hardship, our contempt changes to compassion. Our empathy increases and we become more sensitive to the plight of others. As my friend MaryAnne Diorio said recently, “Compassion is forged in the crucible of suffering.” Why is this true and how does it happen?: “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” (2 Cor. 1:4, NLT)
Consider what God might be doing behind the scenes. He told the prophet Habakkuk in the midst of Israel’s seemingly hopeless conditions, “Look… and watch… be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.” (9:5, NIV) Having gone through a few nasty squalls in my time—especially after seeing God’s surprises and faithfulness on the other side, I’ve learned to look for larger purposes that may be at play. If we love God, he’s promised to redeem even the unjust and hurtful things that happen to us for our good and his glory (Rom. 8:28). As J.I. Packer wisely pointed out, “If you ask why this is happening, no light may come, but if you ask, ‘How am I to glorify God now?,’ there will always be an answer.”’
As you continue to look Godward and wait on him, here are a few more questions to consider: Might he be creating discomfort or discontent to help you move when you want to be settled? To take a risk when you want to be comfortable? To take a new path when you want to rest on your laurels? I’ve learned that these are all possibilities for, as C.S. Lewis observed, “God whispers in our silence but screams to us in our pain.”
Turn your face like flint to the next thing.
“Because the Sovereign LORD helps me, I will not be disgraced. Therefore have I set my face like flint, and I know I will not be put to shame.” (Isa. 50:7 NIV)
Flint is a hard, grey rock that was used in ancient times to form select tools and weapons. Make no mistake, God is still forming you; indeed, he’s shaping you for your next adventure. You are God’s carefully crafted poem or workmanship created in Christ Jesus for good works (Eph. 2:10). As the author and finisher of your faith (Heb. 12:1-2)—one of his arrows, he has a destination and good plans on the other side of whatever howling winds you’re going through right now (Jer. 29:11).
[1] N.T. Wright, Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense (New York: HarperOne, 2006), 160.