Faithful Paradox

I often wonder how frequently it is that I have felt disappointed by God, feeling that he did not show up or did not help, when in all reality, it was not that he was absent, but rather, my expectations of how he would or should show up were left unmet? God has promised that he will never leave me or forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:8). It is often, however, that his presence does not appear in the ways I hoped. 

As God’s economy tends to go, often what we ask for is far less than what God plans to give. How often is it that we are hoping for something far too small that will ease our temporary suffering and God is offering something much bigger that actually prepares an eternal reward; a reward that we cannot yet understand? In the midst of our pain, we cannot understand that what we “suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later” (Romans 8:18). How often is it that we actually miss the ways God is at work because we have hopes or expectations that he will reveal himself in one way or another. When he doesn’t meet our hopes or expectations, rather than searching for how he did show up, it’s easy for me to assume he did not show up at all. Maybe you’ve been there too?

Often, the ways in which God shows up have been counter to my desires. I pray for healing miracles and instead, God shows up through giving me perseverance in the midst of suffering. I pray for financial provision and instead, God shows up in growing my faith to trust him, teaching me contentment in the midst of financial hardship. I pray for relief from depression and anxiety and instead, God gives daily endurance. I pray for patience and God gives me opportunities to learn patience. I pray for success and God gives me opportunities to grow in humility. I pray for an end of pain and instead God shows up by giving me joy in the midst of sorrow. I pray for relational restoration and God shows me that he is my comfort. I pray for an end to suffering and God gives me endurance to wait on him. How often is it that the ways God reveals himself is not in the asked-for miracles of life, but rather in growing us in Christ’s likeness?

I have struggled on and off for more than 2 decades with anxiety. During the darkest hours of my anxiety, I believed God did not show up. I believed he had turned a deaf ear to me. Psalm 13 was my plea, “How long, O Lord, will you forget me forever? How long will you hide yourself from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?” I pleaded with God to remove my anxiety and when he chose to answer that prayer differently than I hoped, I quickly moved to the assumption that he did not meet me at all. 

My expectation of how I wanted God to act and engage was short sighted; all I wanted was relief. When God didn’t respond how I had hoped, I assumed it meant he did not respond at all. In hindsight, it’s easier to see that he did respond, but I did not have eyes to see it. He responded in growing me in ways that I could not understand or see in the midst of my suffering.

In the midst of my anxiety, God held my faith. He held me, even when I saw no good reason to keep holding onto him. In the midst of my anxiety, God gave me gifts like a husband who was patient to walk with me and continually point me to the truth, even when I could not see truth for myself. God used my anxiety to humble me and give me a greater vision towards and compassion for those who suffer from mental illness. He taught me to love the things he loves and also hate the things he hates. In the midst of anxiety, God taught me about resilience; that I am able to endure more than I thought and added to that, there are moments of flourishing in the midst of ongoing suffering. In the midst of my anxiety, God gave me the gift of understanding that anxiety does not have more power than the holding grace of Jesus. Despite the fact that the anxiety did not lift, despite the fact that my pleas for relief were unanswered, God also showed me the truth of Romans 8:38-39, that there is, “nothing in all creation that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.” 

I missed God in the places he did reveal himself because I was so intent on relief; it was the only way I wanted God to show up. Hindsight has a way of revealing the hues of gray that we missed in the moment. It has a way of humbling us to understand a little more clearly what God may have been up to.

Have you found yourself there? Or are you there now? Are you in a space that you feel like God has not shown up; either at all or in the way you had hoped? In your present suffering and story, can you see the hand of God? Or do you feel like he is altogether absent? Could it be that God is very much in the midst of your story, but it’s different than you hoped? Are you willing to let go of how you hoped God would show up and trust that the way he does show up is what he knows is best? The way that God decides to reveal his grace is a part of the good gift he has for you in the midst of your pain.

God has good gifts for us in our pain. The suffering is not the gift, but if we have eyes to see it, God has promised to bring beauty from the things that feel more like death than life. Sometimes it is easier to put to death our dreams and hopes, knowing that, “hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Proverbs 13:12). Sometimes letting go of dreams is easier than trusting that God will bring beauty in the midst of hardship and disappointment. But if we hold on and refuse to let go, God has promised to bring beauty… and he cannot lie. It may not look or feel like we had hoped, but it’s there.

One thing I have learned over and over is that if God had decided to give me the relief that I longed for, my heart would have begun to long for the relief; above and beyond the Giver of the relief. It’s so easy to desire good things – things that God desires too – and then ever so subtly begin to long for and even worship the gifts rather than the Giver of the gifts. In his refusal to bring the relief I longed for, God kept me safe from slipping into worshipping a lesser thing; comfort and relief. The struggle of anxiety has kept me on my knees in prayer in a way that comfort and relief never would. It has forced me into dependence. This itself is a mercy from God.

God has given me seasons of respite from anxiety. He has given me long stretches of time where my mind was (mostly) at peace. And in the seasons where he has chosen to allow it to stay, I am learning that my anxiety is no longer a foe to be conquered, but rather, it’s a companion (albeit an unwanted companion) that I must learn to live alongside. Somehow, in the midst of learning to live with this unwanted companion, I am learning more of who God is in the mix of joy and sorrow, struggle and triumph, peace and anxiety. Anxiety has loosened my death grip on this world and caused me to long for heaven. There are good gifts that come with anxiety. They are gifts that still feel bad, but I cling to trusting that what God is accomplishing through the difficult is bringing beauty I cannot yet understand.

A paradox of faith that continues to unravel, one knot at a time. Good gifts that feel bad but bring beauty from the pain. What a God I have.