(Written on June 15, 2012 for the July issue of Surrender Magazine.)
I am almost 36 years old. One would think that by the time you reach your mid-thirties, you would have outgrown the childish tendencies of your youth. Apparently, I haven’t outgrown all of them. Even though I am an adult, a wife, and a mother of an almost 8 year old and a five year old, there are times when I feel very much like a child. Sometimes it’s because I’m acting like one, and sometimes it’s because I find myself in a situation or circumstance that makes me feel like I used to feel as a child. I had an experience this week that made me feel like I was about 10 years old.
When I was a kid, I was afraid of everything. One thing I was most afraid of was riding in the car when it had been snowing. It didn’t even matter if the snow was sticking to the roads yet. If I saw snowflakes, I wasn’t going anywhere. That was my plan anyway. However, my plans were not the same as the plans of my parents. My Dad was not at all afraid of driving in the snow. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He would embrace the chance to go out and “test the roads” to make sure they were safe. His opinion and my opinion of what was “safe” differed enormously. He grew up in states where it snowed a lot. I mean, like several feet a lot. He was experienced at driving in the snow, so he didn’t fear it. I, however, being 10 years old, had no experience driving a car on dry ground, let alone in the snow. I was forced to ride in the backseat and trust that my Dad knew what he was doing and was going to get us to our destination in one piece.
There was one particular day when it had been snowing really hard and we had to go somewhere. I can’t remember where or why, and it really doesn’t matter. All I remember is that I was absolutely terrified. The area where I grew up in Washington State has a lot of hills. To make matters worse, we had to drive downhill through these s-curves that had no guard rails on the side of the road. For those who don’t know what s-curves are, just imagine a hill that winds down a mountainside zig-zagging like a snake. Then, imagine that there is nothing but huge trees on either side of the road, and if you happened to slide off the edge of the road, you would plummet at least 50-100 feet. When you are driving uphill on these s-curves, you at least have a bank of dirt on the right side of the car and a whole lane on the left separating you from the drop-off. But, we were going downhill.
I remember my Dad telling me to trust him and that I had nothing to be afraid of. He kept telling me to relax and just enjoy the beauty of the snow on the trees. Yeah, there was no way that was going to happen. We began our descent down the hill and I closed my eyes as tight as I could and whispered, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” over and over again until we reached the bottom of the hill. It seemed like an eternity between the top of the hill and the bottom. In reality, it was probably 5 minutes or less. I was so wrapped up in fear that I couldn’t think straight, and I was shaking like a leaf long after we had driven away from that hill. I couldn’t think of anything other than our car sliding off the road and falling so far down that we wouldn’t be found for days, or even never found at all.
This past weekend, I found myself in a situation where I knew I had to do something that was going to push me to my very limits physically and emotionally, and there was no way around it. I was terrified. Immediately, my mind went back to that day in the snow where I knew I had no choice but to go along for the ride. I felt trapped. Only this time, instead of my Dad telling me to trust him, it was God who was telling me to trust him. He told me he was with me and he would get me where I needed to go, and that everything was going to be OK.
I have walked with God long enough now to know that I can trust him. Yet, for about a four-hour period of time, I felt just like that scared little 10 year old girl trapped in my parents’ car. All I could focus on was my fear, and the incredible pain I was in. Then it hit me…the God of the universe was taking time out of His busy schedule just to talk to me and comfort me. He wasn’t disappointed in me for being afraid. He was showing me compassion. He showed me mercy and gave me what I needed to make it to my destination in one piece, and of sound mind. I say that because at one point, I felt like I was going to go crazy. The pain in my body was so severe that I was just praying I would pass out. Yet, God knew what I could handle and delivered peace that went beyond my understanding, and he delivered just enough relief at just the right time to where I knew he had heard my cries for help. He had rescued me.
Psalm 103:13-14 says, “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.” God was not angry with me because I was afraid. Jesus himself was more familiar with suffering than any man or woman who has ever lived. Therefore, he is able to show us unconditional love, mercy, grace, and compassion when we are suffering. He formed us, he knows us, and he loves us with a love that we will never fully be able to grasp. I think of how much I love my children, and how when they are suffering, I would do anything to help them. How much more does God long to comfort us and take away our pain?
You may be in pain right now, physically, emotionally, or whatever kind of pain you’re dealing with. You may be asking yourself the same question I was asking myself during that four hour time period of intense pain and fear. The question is this: “If God loves me so much, then why isn’t he healing me? Why am I in this much pain?” I felt like I was betraying God by even thinking such a thing. But I was at a place of such intense pain and emotion that I found myself getting very “real” with God. It’s OK to be real with Him you know. In fact, I was kind of angry at him, and I let him know it. Yet, even in my moment of doubt; my moment of anger and frustration and downright despair, he still showed me compassion.
That is the God I serve. That is the God I love. He sees beyond our momentary doubts and fears and looks at our heart. He knows that my heart is for him. He knows that I love him more than anything on this earth. He knows that I really do trust him, and he shows himself faithful even when I feel “faith-less.”
Back to the questions I was asking myself. I had a chat with my Dad a couple days ago about my experience last weekend. He really helped put some things in perspective for me. He told me that one thing he’s experienced over the past couple years in dealing with his own suffering from brain cancer is God’s overwhelming love for him. He said that he’s come to the conclusion that because God is such a loving God, then if he’s still suffering the way he is, it must be the most loving thing that God could be doing for him in that moment. That was a strange concept for me to grasp at first. But now it makes perfect sense. God is not a cruel God. He longs for us to be healed and whole. If we are not yet healed, we must hold on to hope! We must know deep inside how much God loves us. If we can truly grasp that, then we will have the patience and the strength to continue on in our suffering until the day of our deliverance. That is what I am holding onto right now, and will continue to hold onto until I see my complete healing. I know God loves me and I know that he will heal me in His own perfect timing. I know that even if I continue to be in pain, God hears me and he’s with me.
So, I’m going to strap myself in, let Jesus take the wheel, relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery along the way. This time, I will do that…with my eyes wide open. I may still have days when all I can do is just whisper the name of Jesus. But you know what? That’s OK. I know God loves me and that’s all I need to know.
To view the July issue of Surrender Magazine, click here.
