"We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose."
Failure? Mistakes? Distractions? Regrets? Betrayal? Hardships? Heartbreak? Pain? Suffering? Injustice? Violence? Tragedy? Death? Can all things really work for good? It's not too hard to believe in the good when everything is going well, or at least fair-to-middling. Sure. I'll step out onto the water and walk by faith when the skies are clear, the sea calm, and the breeze gentle.
I also tend toward love of God and to trust in his purposes when the storm is coming, but I have an heroic mission to accomplish. Give me something great to sacrifice for, a purpose that has big impact or significant implications, and I will try my best to walk on water. When I can clearly understand the value of the hardships, or persecution, then I am still all in.
In 1962, President John F. Kennedy addressed the graduating class at Wast Point, “When there is a visible enemy to fight in open combat…Many serve, all applaud, and the tide of patriotism runs high. But when there is a long, slow struggle, with no immediate visible foe, your choice will seem hard indeed.”
It is in the long, slow struggle without an immediate and visible heroic purpose that I might just sink like a rock in the midst of the storm. I can lack confidence that this particular trial or suffering is working for good. Instead, I can ask, “Why me?” When a friend of mine, Tony, was suffering through cancer on the journey to his death, he never asked that question, but instead, “Why not me?” I marveled at his faith and trust.
Perhaps it is that idea of journey that can help us in the midst of our challenges and pain. We are all on a journey, from conception to our eternal destiny, and each step of that journey molds us and forms us through the ups and downs into the people we are to become. If we surrender to the potter’s hands in the midst of the journey of life, he makes us more than we can hope for or imagine. Stepping through pain or suffering, and ultimately through the doorway of death, we are continually made new and beautiful in the hands of the artist.
In the first talk the rector of the seminary gave to me and the other new seminarians, he said, “Trust the providence that brought you here,” and, “just keep breathing.” Sometimes, in the midst of our struggle, taking our next breath is about all we can do. If, however, we can manage to place our trust in Emmanuel, God with us, to trust in his providence at this moment in this pain, then we begin to be at peace: to believe that this, too, shall make us more fully who we were created to be. The hands of the one who made us are with us continuing to form us even now. This is good.
Here, as we recognize that God is always at work for our good in each step of the journey, we can even become grateful for for the storms. They help to make us who we are and are becoming. Failure? Mistakes? Distractions? Regrets? Betrayal? Hardships? Heartbreak? Pain? Suffering? Injustice? Violence? Tragedy? Death? They make you who you are, and you are good. Thanks be to God.