pain – Page 2 – Alaska Bible Teacher

Is Your Pain Going to be Useful?

Some time ago I came across a story that connected. It seems a visiting speaker visited a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing, but in the end he was still unsure he did the right thing. But after he finished, an elder of that church came up and spoke to him–

“You have finally learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. And finally, something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal scripturally with those ugly things from his past. And yes, he had finally become a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs, the diligent care of receipts and expenditures.

The issue for us is managing our awful things for the Kingdom of God.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they often come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us–we have been hurt. Sometimes profoundly.

Or maybe you’ve wounded others?

Are you a good steward of all of this? Whether it’s a trauma–a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and it seems that no one is immune from them. But dear one, I really believe that you’ll find freedom when you start to use these things for Him and his Kingdom. I have finally, I think anyway.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and redeems it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. He’s not surprised by these hidden sins. I suppose the challenge is to take these sad events and give them to Him. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us. He uses our pain to touch others deeply.

Satan has afflicted you in a dark attempt to destroy you.

But Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that He brings with him. It really is His work, not ours. We finally understand the wide scope of His cross. It’s then we become broken healers that God can use.

The light has truly overcome the dark!

We’re able to touch others with these things that would cripple and destroy. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll definitely meet those who need to hear our story of us walking through an ugly pain. God will arrange it.

We’re slowly being transformed into authentic witnesses of His healing power. And yes, at times these awful things will still hurt us, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them by His grace.

We’re finally becoming real-life stewards of our pain.

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Revelation 21:4

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Dancing With Bruises

Dancers are some of the most talented people I know. Their gracefulness is truly amazing. But a dancer’s training is far from easy. By choosing to become dancers they have made a decision to absorb the pain of the dance.

Their toes and feet are blistered and bruised–they take constant abuse. Some live with chronic tendonitis, and their feet bleed sometimes, pain is their constant companion, but you know what? They still choose to dance. It’s what they were born to do.

Two things to consider.

They choose to dance. Dancers must operate with an iron will and an elegant grace. I suppose that is why they can dance the way they do. They have painfully blended the two. We see the elegance, but don’t see the pain.
The scars and bruises often become “badges of honor.” They would rather dance in pain, than not dance at all.

I once heard someone describe depression as having a mental bruise. I think I understand this.

As one prone to depression, I know what it is like to bury myself in my bed for weeks at a time. My own mental bruise was simply more than I could take. There was a sensation of sinking into blackness, a sense of total and complete despair. I felt lost and completely alone.

I prayed. I groaned, and I prayed again.

My sense of being totally lost in sad, dark thoughts was beyond comprehension. Dear reader, this was something quite real, and you must become aware of these things. Over 25% of people are diagnosed with depression sometime in their life.

Maybe some of your friends are suffering this way? It’s often hidden by a fake smile, but it’s there and you don’t even know it.

We would never say that diabetics are that way because of the enemy. The dark one will surely exploit it, but I think you give him far too much credit if you suggest he was able to initiate it. I don’t think Satan has the spiritual “voltage.” He often uses depression to “set his hooks” in a person.

I refuse to hide my mental bruises from those who share my pain. I will make the choice to dance. I’m bruised, but I will try to ignore the pain. God meets me with an extra helping of His grace and mercy. I want to exult in God, walk in His love, and “leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture” (Malachi 4:2.)

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.”

Isaiah 42:3

The great pastor/evangelist Charles Spurgeon once spoke about his own personal battle with depression:

“I find myself frequently depressed – perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus, and His infinite love in dying upon the cross to put away all my transgressions.”

Am I Ignitable?

“Who makes His angels spirits and His ministers a flame of fire.”

Hebrews 1:7

Jim Elliot was a Christian missionary martyred by the Auca Indians of Ecuador in 1956. He was just 29 years old. This quote was found in a journal he kept, and it was found after his death. There’s much here to process.

“He makes His ministers a flame of fire.” Am I ignitable? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of ‘other things.’ Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is transient, often short lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul – short life? … Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.”

Jim Elliot, “Shadow of the Almighty”

A wonderful and intense quote. Passionate. Maybe we should dismantle it and consider what he was trying to say. There are some great insights to be found here.

First, he writes of asking God to be saturated with the oil of the Spirit. Jim Elliot wants to be set on fire with his life, heart, and spirit becoming the fuel.

Second, he writes of “dread asbestos.” Almost 2000 degrees F is needed to melt this down. Now regarded as a carcinogen but because it’s basically fireproof it was used often. For the person walking by faith it illustrates the power of sin.

Third, he writes about the brevity and shortness of his life and his need to live in the bright light of eternity.

O.K. Let’s switch metaphors.

The ponderosa pine needs fire to propagate. Their seeds are fire-activated.

Fire activates the cone that holds the seeds. Looking we see a tight little bundle which is covered in resin. To germinate they must be burned. Fire melts the exterior and the pine cone and releases the seed; and actually they can lay dormant for several years just waiting for the heat.

The believer needs heat to grow.

I don’t think there is any other way. The Word and the Spirit, combined with the heat of the circumstances we face, creates a blaze that is often seen by others. The furnace is God’s way to bring lasting change to His people. I wish it were different.

“They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”’

Walking with Jesus to Emmaus, Luke 24:32

“Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?”

Isaiah 33:14

Why, God Why?

“Why have you made me your target?…Why do you hide your face?…Why should I struggle in vain?…Why does the Almighty not set times for judgment?…Why then did you bring me out of the womb?”

Job 7:20, 13:24, 9:29, 24:1, 10:18

Job’s profound suffering is one of the most extreme in all of human history. He is essentially a godly man who loses everything (except his faith). Job must pick up the pieces after “catastrophic ” sudden pain and total loss.

Only the brutality of the cross of Jesus eclipsed the suffering of Job.

Job is being tested with dark horrors. Will he “curse God and die” as his wife suggests? Will he cave in to the final four “friends” and accept their twisted theology? (I guess that you have to read chapters 38-39 to find out).

The Book of Job has been regarded as inaccessible and archaic by many.

Unfortunately, many believe this assessment and look elsewhere for comfort. I would agree that Job is a challenging book, but so is Macbeth or Plato. There are plenty of easier books to read; but if we choose to avoid Job, our faith will always be deficient. We will miss something vital.

Job is less an explanation and more a revelation of suffering. “Why” questions go unanswered. “Who” questions matter. I suppose this seems unfair to Job. It certainly seems so to me, but straight answers in a fallen world won’t get any traction at all.

One more thing. The Book of Job is about “twisted” theology. Job’s friends “toe-the-party-line” of theology that is logical. But don’t be mislead by their pronouncements, for they seem reasonable but they are all very much flawed.

I always find it strangely amusing when some quote Eliphaz or one of the other “friends” to encourage or comfort a suffering saint. They totally miss the point of the book. We desperately want to give out good counsel but we really don’t understand.

Very often their doctrine is a doctrine devoid of love.

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” 1 Cor. 13:2

You can’t split your theology from love and get away with it. Something toxic happens if you try.

When you read “Job’s friends” you must remember that. These are lessons it takes a long time to learn. Unless the Holy Spirit tutors you, be very slow to speak. (Job’s friends were at their best at the beginning when they said nothing at all.)

The broken believer, hobbled by chronic illness, has much to learn from Job. He is like “the poster child” for those afflicted. My own illnesses are always an issue of course, but God is fully in control. He brings beauty out of the ashes. He has been more than gracious.

In my pain I cling to this promise found in Isaiah 61.

“To bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.”
Isaiah 61:3

“The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.”
Henry Ward Beecher

God, Have Mercy On Me

Luke 18:9-14

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else: ¹⁰“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. ¹¹The Pharisee was standing and praying like this about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other people—greedy, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ¹²I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.’”

¹³“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even raise his eyes to heaven but kept striking his chest and saying, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ ¹⁴I tell you, this one went down to his house justified rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

He despised others. As a Pharisee he prided himself as a holy person; he stood before God and congratulated himself. I believe that self-righteousness has many levels. You can be blatant and obvious about it, or it can be subtle and hidden. But we must understand that the father sees and knows. Notice the “we all” here in Isaiah 64:6–

“We are all like one who is unclean, all our so-called righteous acts are like a menstrual rag in your sight. We all wither like a leaf; our carry us away like the wind.”

(Hmm. Is that what He sees? A menstrual rag? You got to be kidding!)

We often advance ourselves by demeaning those who struggle hard with their sin–there are those who see and somehow know that they’re superior. We don’t come out and say so; but we’ve arrived— but guess what— God (and scripture) tell us something radically different.

But we’re not dealing here with a hidden self-righteousness. The Pharisee truly believes that he is special. He stands and doesn’t kneel. He feels comfortable and confident in the holy presence of God Almighty. He’s not like the others. He is sure that he’s holy.

Look though, the tax-collector was being brutally honest.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him how sinful he was—he understood his own wickedness. Jesus’ story reveals God’s love for those who know that they’re twisted inside. Notice the heart of the tax-collector:

“He stood afar off” which showed his awareness of his separation from God.
“He wouldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven,” which declared his humility in the presence of God.
He kept “striking his chest,” which tells us of a deep pain over his sin against God.
He prayed, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ This describes his desperate heart.

These both came to pray, but that is all they had in common.

The Pharisee came to the temple to show off his righteousness, the tax-collector out of a terrible despair. It strikes me that the text in verse 11 says the Pharisee “began praying to himself.” It seems that his prayer never really met God—he was proud and showy, doing the things God hates (Prov. 29:23).

Things really came obvious in verse 14. That’s the critical point of the entire story—“one went down to his house justified rather than the other.” Wow! What a statement. One professionally religious man, sure of his holiness, the other a sinful sinner, who came humble and broken. One showed off his faith—boasting with a legalistic swagger. The other desperate and desolate, completely undone.

But it was the tax-man who became righteous in the eyes of God.

Humility is the foundation of the kingdom of Jesus. In Matthew 5:3-4 makes a lot of sense—to be “poor in spirit” and to “mourn” are the bedrock of a Christian’s discipleship. To be justified (made right) was a gift. He didn’t try to earn it, and there wasn’t a probationary period. The tax-collector now became righteous; the Pharisee carried his sin.

God wants us to have a broken-heart. He rejects everything else. I suppose that the question is this: Do you mourn over your sin?

“The Lord is near the brokenhearted;
he saves those crushed in spirit

Psalm 34:18

Art by Eugène Burnand

Leaders Who Are Kind and Generous

“And the king said, “Is there not still someone of the house of Saul, that I may show the kindness of God to him?” Ziba said to the king, “There is still a son of Jonathan; he is crippled in his feet.”

2 Samuel 9:3, ESV

That crippled man was named Mephibosheth. He was injured by the actions of a nurse, she accidentally dropped him as she was trying to escape the palace (2 Sam. 4:4). He was just five years old. It was not of Mephibosheth’s doing, but someone else made a mistake, and it totally and irrevocably changed his life.

As a result, for the rest of his life, he would always use crutches.

It may be of interest, but Mephibosheth’s name means, “shame,” and perhaps this would’ve been an integral part of how people treated him or even how he saw himself. But David was a different sort of king (as kings go), and he elevates Mephibosheth to the feasting table.

King David wants to bring this crippled man to a lavish dinner.

Interesting. I believe that there are a great many people like Mephibosheth. They’ve been injured by someone else’s stumbling. It seems we pass these things on to each other. And the lameness we inflict may not be physical. It may be spiritual or emotional. Sometimes we injure others without knowing what we have really done to them.

Whether we know it or not, we are capable of much evil.

Some of the most evil woundings that are done are usually on a moral or spiritual level. If you break your arm, you will heal. But if I wound your spirit you may not ever recover. These injuries are incredibly devastating. When someone harms us on this level it can completely undo us, for a lifetime. (And perhaps, maybe even forever.)

Somehow we affect others in ways we aren’t even aware of. We need to seek God’s grace; we cannot minimize what we have done. We can’t go on hurting others without injuring ourselves.

Wounded people will inevitably wound others. But healed people can often become healers themselves.

We can read of King David’s truly majestic treatment of Mephibosheth in 2 Samuel 9. He actively blessed him, and perhaps that is the proactive action we ought to take. We must make an effort to always strengthen the people around us.

As a king, this was a very minor incident. Hardly worth recording in the lofty affairs of state. But as a man, to restore Mephibosheth, was definitely one of David’s greatest decisions.

I would suggest that kindness should always be a key part of someone who is in authority, especially those who are serving others in leadership.

But there’s another concept here– we discover something that is profoundly true about us in Paul’s letter to the Church in Ephesus. It’s here, in 1:5, that we see that God our Father, acts like David, and receives Mephibosheth–just like God receives us to Himself. We find that we’re adopted, loved, and held, and we get a prime place at the table. Forever and ever.

“God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure.”

Ephesians 1:5, NLT

We may use crutches, but we walk by faith. This verse in Ephesians may be the greatest lesson and the most profound experience we can have as believers.

Do You Belong in the Fellowship of Pain?

“In one of the villages, Jesus met a man with an advanced case of leprosy. When the man saw Jesus, he bowed with his face to the ground, begging to be healed. “Lord,” he said, “if you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean.”

Luke 5:12, NLT

The Bible text reveals a man who is desperate. His leprosy has advanced; he is covered with it from ‘head-to-toe.’ He’s an outcast now, completely infected by something he never asked for; he is ‘unclean’ and completely without hope. There is no treatment, the doctors can do nothing.

The leper knows that without the touch of Jesus, he’ll never be healed.

He knows it; he doesn’t need to be convinced by anyone over the complete hopelessness of his condition. He is lost. And yet he has heard that Jesus can do incredible miracles. Could it be that Jesus can heal his sickness? The leper comes and falls on his knees before the Lord, with his face in the dirt. This man is completely broken; he has no hope, except for Jesus. What else can he do?

Our diseases differ, but our lives have been completely changed by our pain. We all have this in common.

Our pain and darkness vary. Some hurt more, some less. But we’ve all come to the place where we no longer have illusions of somehow being made whole. Whenever we meet, I think there should be a secret handshake or a password. We all share a comradeship— we’re all part of the same community. We’re a broken club of tired and decidedly unclean misfits.

We belong to the fellowship of pain.

Lying in the dirt, we start to believe the unbelievable. Our faith doesn’t activate our healing, as much as it simply guides us to Jesus. We can kneel, and perhaps that’s all we need to do. His presence drives away the fear, the doubt, and the pain. He’s come, and somehow we begin to hope for mercy. Only he can carry us through this.

In times past I’ve struggled with deep dark depression. I’ve had to take meds. But when I come into Jesus’ presence, all my melancholy is driven out. He comes and I start to hope again. Am I a stellar example of perfect discipleship? I think not. But isn’t about us becoming “angels,” perhaps it’s more about us learning how to kneel, and to allow Jesus to touch our hearts.

You must do this, repeatedly.

“The power of the Church is not a parade of flawless people, but of a flawless Christ who embraces our flaws.”

“The Church is not made up of whole people, rather of the broken people who find wholeness in a Christ who was broken for us.”

–Mike Yaconelli

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Weak Eyes

Stuck in the wonders of scripture we read about Leah and her sister Rachel. We see the two daughters of Laban have become Jacob’s wives. We must step into Genesis 29 to see more.

Jacob longs for Rachel. She is his “soul mate” and because he’s in love, the customs and technicalities of the day somehow get by him. Because of this, he will have to take on Laban’s subtle trickery, where daughters get exchanged, and we must sort out who is who.

Laban’s deception creates a huge crisis for everyone.

But it seems Jacob just rolls with it. I suppose deception has always been Jacob’s strong suit. (But when we see a deceiver like Jacob gets deceived, that can’t be all bad).

But it’s Leah that I tend to think about. Her own issues are unique. Genesis 29 explains it a bit cryptically,

“Leah’s eyes were weak, but Rachel was beautiful in form and appearance.”

Genesis 29:17

You must know that there is confusion by commentators about the “weak eyes.” Some take it literally (as in, she is very “near-sighted,”) while others who look at the original Hebrew find the words to be a bit looser and vague. They tend to think that this is a polite way of saying she really wasn’t pretty.

The text also states that Leah was “hated.”

Genesis 29:30-31.

She is wounded, and life requires that she live as unwanted. She is a woman of tragedy and broken hopes and dreams. She will always live as a reject. At best, she will always be a distant second, and perhaps a bit scorned and neglected for this.

I conclude that Leah is the champion for the challenged.

I love Leah and I think I understand her. Her life is a long tragedy and very full of sadness. For the next 30-40 years she will always be a cast-off, someone who has been broken on life’s bitter vagaries. She’s a fellow struggler, and a survivor.

Her sad life is comparable to us who have to fight so hard over our own illness or handicaps.

She must’ve been challenged by her terrible weakness. I understand this. My own life has been “topsy-turvy” and a really hard struggle. Somehow it seems we must work through these things way too much.

It doesn’t seem fair.

For those of you who are confined to a wheelchair, or must use a cane, or who deal with a physical or mental illness. Leah should be our hero. For those who have been betrayed by addiction, or who have felt rejected through a bitter divorce– Leah speaks to us.

She is for every loser and for failures of all stripes. But through all of our setbacks and messes, we must realize that God does love us– even as we weep.

We may have Leah’s eyes, but we also have His grace.

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”

Psalm 139:14

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A Proper Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I came across a story that connected. A visiting speaker stood in front of a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing. After he spoke, an elder came and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Finally, something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal scripturally with those ugly things from his past. He was becoming a proper steward of his pain.

The issue for us is managing these awful things for the Kingdom of God.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us, we have been hurt (or maybe we’ve wounded others?)

Are you a good steward of who you are? Whether it’s a trauma, a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems. You’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and redeemed it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge I suppose is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us.

Satan has afflicted you in his dark attempt to destroy you.

Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that he brings with him. It really is his work, not ours. We finally understand. It’s then we become broken healers that God can use.

(Read how Joseph handled betrayal: Genesis 50:19-21.)

The light has truly overcome the dark.

We’re being taught (sometimes very slowly) to carry all of these things and plead the blood of Jesus over our past. He covers us completely. He has redeemed us. Luke 1:68 explains much clearer than I can:

“Blessed is the Lord, the God of Israel because he has visited and provided redemption for his people.”

Becoming a steward of our pain is his doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that would cripple and destroy others. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll sovereignly meet those who need to hear our story. We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

“That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”

Romans 8:28, Message

The Great Sculptor’s Shop

“Written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”

Romans 9:20, ESV

“Christianity is a world that is a great sculptor’s shop. We are the statues and there a rumor going around the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life.”

C.S. Lewis

Scripture describes the process of becoming like Jesus in different ways. But one is a potter fashioning something beautifully useful. He works to bring out something good from that which is formless. Both the potter, and the sculptor, fully intend to create something out of improbable clay or hard marble.

What sculpture is to a block of marble, so is a person who is being shaped into the image of God.

“For we are his workmanship.” Ephesians 2:10

The word used for workmanship is ποίημα, poíēma, and this word strongly suggests something that a creator does, and it’s also used in Genesis 1 to describe God making the earth. I suppose that it’s His “work” that goes into the reality of all we see. He designs it all.

God is also a sculptor, but not one limited to granite or marble.

Instead, He sculpts our characters. He can take a sinful human being and mold and chisel and hammer away until that person reflects something of heaven’s glory.

The Sculptor must do with us as the sculptor did with the stone. He must bring to bear upon us the sharp chisel of circumstances, of disappointment, of trial. These are tough, and sometimes painful. It seems that these things will destroy us.

The marble is chosen by the artist to meet the need. He becomes aware of the stone–you might say that he looks for the image hidden in the marble.

God is a sculptor, but not one limited to granite or marble. Instead, He sculpts our character. He can take a sinful human being and mold and chisel and hammer away until that person reflects something of heaven’s glory.

I beseech you to accept the chisel.

Let Him do the work of the Spirit in you. As He chips away it may seem like destruction. But the sculptor is a master, he has studied the marble and knows exactly what it takes to shape out what He wants.

Trust in His wisdom and love. He knows what He is doing. Of that I have no doubt.

Can you accept God’s tools? Do you trust Him?