It is far easier to feel sorry for yourself because of what you do not have than it is to thank the Lord for what He has already given you. Today it occurred to me that instead of thinking about things I lack or things I have lost, that I would do far better to consider that lacking as actually a possession of something, and those losses as gains. Having a lack, gaining a loss.
Last summer, I made the decision to leave seminary in order to pursue a nursing degree. I moved off campus. I took a semester off from school. I accepted a full-time position at a local hospital working nights. In just a few short weeks, my social network changed from a complex electrical grid, with many pathways for current to flow, into a simple, repetitive circuit, where current flows through a single path, over and over again, week in and week out. Where there once were many switches and levers, lightbulbs and outlets, now there are but a few.
In this circuit of life, sometimes I wrestle with feelings of loneliness and envy. As much as I love the friendships and relationships in my life right now, sometimes I want more. When I see people around me enjoying relationships that I do not have right now, I struggle to outwardly express my happiness and excitement for them amidst the fears that rage within. Because each time those feelings come, I am confronted with my circumstances again. I see few social opportunities necessary for those relationships to develop in my own life, and in the present doldrums I sense no winds of change.
I would be lying if I said that I do not sometimes question where I'm at right now. After working in a hospital for a few short months, I'm pretty sure that healthcare isn't for me after all. Try as I might, I can't get myself to embrace the thought of putting in the amount of time and energy required for a nursing degree. It amounts to a far greater investment than my interest in the field. But where does that realization leave me now? I spend my nights working and my days sleeping, for what? Is it worth continuing to put myself through all of this when I see no future for me in healthcare?
Actually, there are a lot of things that keep me in my present circumstances. God has blessed me with income and expense rates which enable me to pay off undergrad loans faster than I ever believed I could. I live with five wonderful women, and I'm a member at an incredible church where I am part of a small group that I love as my own family. But even as I remember all these blessings and thank the Lord for them, I still struggle to deal with the feeling of missing out on so much and wonder if the benefits of enduring this present season for a time outweigh the consequences.
What I realized today is that it's not enough to thank God for the good things He has given in spite of the difficult things He has also ordained, the things He has withheld or the things He has taken. In reality, I ought to thank and praise Him for both, and say along with Job, "The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD."
Part of this conclusion came from a sermon I heard about Job recently, in which the preacher spoke of God's sovereignty over the trials Job experienced. As he spoke of Job's faith, he also demonstrated from the text that the calamities Job experienced were not merely caused by Satan and allowed by God, but actually ordained by God Himself.
Acknowledging that God is behind every lack and every loss --which I now feel so profoundly-- is sobering. How can I question an all-powerful, all-knowing God for inflicting such wounds on me? Looking at the cold hard coin of God's sovereignty, part of me feels a kind of resignation, as though this is my fate and I am powerless to change it.
Yet, the other side of the coin is shining with God's love. Yes, He is sovereign, and yes, He ordains these difficulties for my life, but He is not callous and they are not arbitrary! Every pain, and every sorrow is caused out of love for me, for the greater good of making me more like Christ and teaching me to find my satisfaction in Him alone.
In his sermon, the preacher illustrated it this way: God is not the emergency room doctor who simply tries to put the pieces back together when we experience trauma in life. He is the Master Surgeon who carefully plans each incision and wound in order to bring about our greater health and healing. The wounds God inflicts are wounds of mercy, and that truth wraps my
sorrowful resignation in comfort and security like a warm blanket warding off the
chill of a bleak winter's day.
There is a purpose in every pain. So when I experience feelings of loneliness, when I experience lack of a desirable relationship, or the loss of a social network I once had, I would do well not only to trust in the goodness and faithfulness of the God who ordained these circumstances in love, but to thank Him for them. In reality, I do not merely lack a relationship that I may desire, I have the experience of feeling that lack. I do not merely feel the loss of the social network I once enjoyed, I have gained the loss of it. These experiences are themselves gifts I have received from God, graciously given for the purpose of making me more like Christ.
I have a lack. I have gained a loss. "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD."Labels: Bible/theology, reflections