When I was a fairly young Christian, I had the idea in my mind, however subconsciously, that being a Christian meant that God was obligated to protect me from suffering. If he didn't, either he didn't love me, or I had failed him somehow. When I went through suffering, I quickly and easily questioned my faith and my relationship with God. I withdrew from him and grew angry and bitter. Sometimes I cursed him.

I don't think I'm alone in that. I believe my experience is common to many Christians, as well as unbelievers. The biggest reason many people give for not believing in God is suffering in the world. People are slow to thank God for their blessings, quick to blame him for their agonies. God could have prevented this, they cry. If he is good, why would he allow this to happen?

Those are difficult questions. I know, because I've asked them myself. I don't pretend there's an easy answer. I believe there is an answer, but not the one most people want to hear.

The reality of the Christian life is not triumphalism: protection from all suffering, failure and pain. The reality of the Christian life is grace in the midst of suffering.

God did not spare his own Son from pain. Jesus was called "a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering" (Isaiah 53:3). The man whom many consider the greatest Christian who ever lived, the Apostle Paul, lived closely with suffering throughout his career (2 Corinthians 11:23-29). Jesus and Paul both warned us that suffering would be a normal part of the Christian life.

Paul was tormented by a "thorn in his flesh", from which he cried out that God would deliver him. God's response, however, was: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

A good summary of the Christian life: God's power in human frailty.

A striking apparent contradiction hit me when I was reading Luke recently. Jesus is warning his disciples about coming persecution:

But before all this, they will lay hands on you and persecute you....You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. All men will hate you because of me. But not a hair of your head will perish. (Luke 21:12, 16-18, emphasis added)

Some of you will be put to death? Not a hair of your head will perish?

The thing is, God's idea of deliverance looks very different to ours.

Our idea of deliverance is cessation of the trial, the temptation, the persecution.

God's idea of deliverance is his strength given to us to enable us to endure and to overcome. God's idea of deliverance is his grace, peace, and comfort in the middle of trial. God's idea of deliverance is standing fast, holding firm, remaining faithful to him despite the temptation to deny or abandon him. God's idea of deliverance is resisting sin and turning to him for the grace to obey instead.

Paul summed up this paradox well:

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. (2 Corinthians 4:7-10)

Especially in charismatic circles, we love teaching about grace. We love teaching about the Father's love. We love hearing that God loves us no matter what, and that he will forgive us no matter what. We often hear that there is nothing we can do to make God love us less, and nothing we can do to make him love us more.

All of this is true. But it is impossible to truly behold God, and to remain the same. As we gaze at his beautiful face, we are transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, by the Lord who is the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3:18).

When we see God, we no longer want sin. When we look upon his beauty, we no longer desire anything else. It is impossible to truly see him, and still want to hold onto sin and the world.

Our God is a consuming fire (Hebrews 12:29). He is both more loving and more holy than we can possibly imagine. It is impossible for him to tolerate sin. Even in his beloved children, his purpose is to purge it away with the fire of his holiness until we begin to resemble his likeness.

He does this so we can live in his presence. Nothing sinful or evil can live with him. We are purified so that we can be ready to hold more of his presence inside us, to carry that presence to the world around us, and eventually, to see him face to face. In heaven there will be no sin. In this life, we are on a journey toward that destination. As we grow closer and closer to him, he will cleanse away everything that does not resemble his holiness and righteousness.

This process is sometimes more difficult and painful than we can imagine. But once we have drunk of the waters of bitterness, he will give us the waters of his peace and his joy. We will rejoice in what the trials accomplish, for even when we cannot see his purpose, he is guiding us with his loving hand into and through them. When we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he is with us. His hand holds ours the entire way.

I have known more of his presence, more of his joy, and heard his voice most often and most clearly, when I have gone through the deepest suffering.

Coincidence? I think not. And truly, in the end, it makes it all worth it. I wouldn't trade what I have gone through with God, what I have learned of him, and the closeness I've gained to him, for freedom from the suffering and pain. Even if sometimes in the middle of it, I've prayed for it to be taken away. He knows better, and he sees the end from the beginning.

This paradox is captured perfectly by Peter:

"In this [salvation] you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." (1 Peter 1:6-7)

"Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live! Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12:7-11)

This is an incredibly important and comforting passage, one that I return to again and again. (Actually, I'd recommend all of verses 1-13). It sheds light on the purpose for our suffering: it is not because God hates us or we are rejected by him, but rather the opposite: we are his chosen and dearly loved sons, and he is committed to doing whatever he can to deal with the sin in our lives and bring about his righteousness and holiness.

Just a quick list of some of the results of God's discipline:

• To deal with sin in our lives
• To make us more like Jesus
• To cause us to rely on him more
• To cause us to know him more

However, this doesn't have to happen. The difficulties in a non-believer's life don't have these results, and they don't have to in our lives either. The key factor is our response to God's discipline.

How do we respond to suffering in order to produce godly results?

The key really is faith. Here are some thoughts:

• Remember the Father's love. Remember Romans 8:28. Remember that he loves us deeply and that he has PROMISED to work everything out for our good, including this trial. His heart does not change when we go through suffering. Nothing can separate us from his love.
• Refuse to give in to the temptation to grow bitter and to blame God or grow angry at him. Trust his heart. Thank him, as much as you can, even for this trial. Worship him, as much as you can. Worship is a powerful force against the enemy. This doesn't mean denying the pain, it just means telling him you still believe he is good in spite of it. You can be honest with him about how you feel, and about how it doesn't seem to make sense. He is your Father.
• Don't give in to the temptation to believe that your suffering is random and/or meaningless. You are a child of the living God. Your trial has been ordained by his sovereign hand, for your good. It is not random, it is not meaningless, it is not purposeless. He knows the end and the beginning.
• Don't give in to the temptation to think "what if" or fantasize about how things could have been. Accept it as it is. Face it realistically, and don't attempt to numb the pain (an ungodly response). Grieve if you have to.
• Submit to God and resist the devil (James 4:7) Wait with patience for the trial to be over.
• Remember that it WILL have good results. Remember that no matter how painful it is now, the pain will pass and you will look back, understand it better, and thank God for it. Remember that the end result, should you choose to trust God and obey him through it, will be "a harvest of righteousness and peace".

"We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead." (The Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 1:8-9)

Abraham is called in Scripture "the father of all who believe" (Romans 4:11-12). What kind of faith did Abraham have?

He had faith that God would raise the dead. First of all, he believed that God would bring life from his and Sarah's dead and barren bodies, to give them the son that God had promised (Romans 4:19-21). Later, after that son had miraculously been born, he faced an even greater test when God demanded that he sacrifice him. Still, he didn't waver in his faith but believed that if necessary, God would raise Isaac from the dead (Hebrews 11:19).

God tells us that this is the faith that saves us. When we believe that God raised Jesus from the dead, he credits us his righteousness and our sins are forgiven (Romans 4:24, 10:9).

However, this faith goes far beyond salvation, as the example of the Apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 1 tells us.

Many times as Christians we are faced with situations in our lives that seem like death. In fact, they are death: the death of our hopes, our dreams, our desires, our loves, our flesh. Many times they can seem excruciatingly painful, "far beyond our ability to endure," as Paul put it.

There is a Christian aphorism that goes like this, "God will never give you anything that you can't handle."

I don't believe that is true.

I believe that very often, God can and does allow things in our lives that we cannot handle, that are "far beyond our ability to endure," that could easily crush us to death.

And why?

He does it so, as Paul says, "that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead."

When you are faced with a situation that you simply cannot handle, that is impossible for you, that in your strength cannot be moved, this happens so that in your manifest weakness you would cry out to God, who is your only hope. It happens so that when you have put your hope in him, confessed to him that he alone is your refuge and your salvation, and that if he does not raise this thing from the dead there will be no life, you will see his deliverance.

Paul went on to say,

"He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers." (2 Corinthians 1:10-11)

Are you faced with a situation that is impossible? Does it seem like there is no hope, no end in sight, no deliverance that you can see? Your hope is in the God who raises the dead. Your salvation is in the God who does the impossible. Turn to him, trust in him, so you can see his salvation.

I believe that is why James can tell us, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds." Though the trials themselves are not joyful, there is joy in the opportunity to cast yourself on the God who raises the dead and see what he will do. There is joy in the opportunity to grow in your knowledge and trust of him, and to prove yourself faithful through the testing rather than abandon God.

He will be faithful to us.

Recently I read a book by Bill Johnson entitled Face to Face With God: The ultimate quest to experience his presence. It's an excellent book, and I recommend it.

One statement impacted me more than any other in the book:

"God's love for people is beyond comprehension and imagination. He is for us, not against us. God is good 100 percent of the time." (p. 3, emphasis added)

"[I]f I had to pick one word to describe the nature of God revealed in Christ, it is that He is good. I never realized how controversial the subject of the nature of God could be until I began teaching week after week that God is good, always." (p. 103)

This simple premise shocked me, not only because it is profound, but because I realized I don't really believe it. Most of the time, even if I'm not outright angry at God and convinced that he is out to get me, the suspicion lurks strongly in my mind that mixed up in God's "good" motives are motives to punish, hurt, or damage me. If I really give myself over to him, I can't trust that the results will be in my favour.

Bill Johnson admits the difficulty of this teaching:

"While most believers hold the belief [that God is good] as a theological value...they struggle in light of the difficulties all around us. Many have abandoned the idea altogether, thinking it doesn't have any practical application. The hardest part is saying that He's always good. Some will say He is mysteriously good, which is about the same as saying He's good, but not as we think of goodness." (p.103)

The more I have thought about it, the more convinced I have become that central to a quest for the presence of God, central to giving up everything to follow Jesus, is a basic and settled conviction in our hearts that God is good. Not just good, but 100% good, 100% of the time.

How can we abandon ourselves to him, how can we completely believe and obey him, unless we believe that?

One of Satan's very first temptations in the garden of Eden, the doubt he sowed into Eve's mind to convince her to disobey God, was the idea that God was not good:

The woman said to the serpent, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.' "

"You will not surely die," the serpent said to the woman. "For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." (Genesis 3:2-5)

The ugly but plausible lie behind what the serpent was saying was this: God is holding out on you. He knows that this will be good for you, and that's why he's forbidding it. If you take things into your own hands, if you go your own way, forgetting what God says, you will experience what is truly good, what God doesn't want you to have and what you'll miss out on if you obey him.

Eve fell for it. And ever since, generations down the line, every single human being has fallen for it too.

What Jesus Christ came to reveal, and what reconciliation to God is all about, is that God is actually good. That following him reaps ultimate rewards, both in this lifetime and the next.

And yet, we struggle to believe that. Someone far from God doesn't believe it at all: a basic hatred and mistrust of God keeps them shaking their fists from a distance, even if unconsciously. But many Christians probably feel the same way I do: a deep and stubborn suspicion that the love of God is a happy lie, that a benevolent Father can't possibly be true, that ditching the treasures of this life in favour of treasure in heaven won't ultimately pay off.

We follow Jesus because we feel we have no choice. We know he's the truth. But disappointments, unhappy circumstances, far-off things that are starting to look less like promises and more like cruel bait, keep us in a miserable state of depression, discouragement, fear, and fruitlessness. We turn to things we know we shouldn't in an effort to stem the demanding tide of pain.

If God is good, why? Why this circumstance in my life? Why this thing that I want so badly and can't have? Why this stuff that doesn't make any sense?

There's no easy answer to that. I can't promise that a belief in the goodness of God will reap quick and easy solutions to the disappointments and hurts of life. I still struggle with questions about things that are currently ongoing in my life, and I don't have any guarantee that I will have an answer soon, or indeed, any answer in this lifetime.

But key to overcoming the hurt, disappointment, fear, and fruitlessness is a little thing called faith.

We have a choice when confronted with our thoughts, our feelings, our circumstances, and the enemy's lies:

Do we believe God?

God has said, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28, emphasis added)

As believers, that's a shining light of truth, a promise God has given us that encompasses all circumstances in our life, both "good" and "bad".

The belief that God is out to harm us or to hold out on us is a lie.

We know the heart and the character of God as revealed in Jesus. We have the promises of God. What do we turn to when hurt or disappointment threatens to overwhelm us? We will be overwhelmed, unless we believe in the promises of God.

I'm not saying that bad things won't happen to us. Promises that we will suffer are sown through the whole New Testament. Following God definitely does not guarantee that we will get what we want in this life, or that it will be easy. There are no guarantees.

Except for the presence, the power, and the love of God. And somehow, that's enough to make us "more than conquerors", as Paul says (Romans 8:37).

Paul knew what he was talking about. He had suffered and lost more than any of us probably ever will. And yet, he could triumphantly state his all-conquering belief in the goodness and the love of God.

Don't sell yourself short. Disappointments will happen. Hurts will happen. God tells us he uses them to make us mature and complete and shape us into the image of Jesus (James 1:2-4; Hebrews 12:1-13). The question is, will we believe him?

I have gone through many hurts in my life. Sometimes I've felt that God wanted to make me into a test case for suffering! (Which, of course, is not true). Looking back at my major disappointments, I can trace God's hand and see how he has used each one to draw me into new stages in my relationship with him and deal with sin issues. What I thought would destroy me has ended up turning out for my good. Even if, and when, those things were not good in themselves!

With that experience, and with God's promises, I can look at the current hurts and disappointments in my life and say, "God, I don't understand this. I don't like this. This hurts. I don't know why you've allowed it. I wish it could be another way. But I know with total certainty that you will work this out for my good, no matter how it ends up. Therefore, I can walk forward with faith and confidence and continue trusting you and doing what you have called me to do."

Faith in God's goodness does not mean denying, ignoring, or minimizing the pain. It doesn't mean saying that everything that happens to us is good. We live in a sinful, fallen, evil world. Bad stuff can and does happen. People sin, and they sin against us.

But faith in God does mean a settled conviction that, in the life of a believer, God both can and will turn out everything, including the bad, the sinful, the ugly, the painful, for our good, because he's promised. It means a conviction that our perspective is limited and faulty, and God's is eternal and perfect. What from our time-bound, human viewpoint looks only like destruction, from God's heavenly vantage point looks like an opportunity to display his grace and his goodness. It means believing what we cannot yet see, which, after all, is the very definition of faith (Hebrews 11:1).

With faith like that, nothing can shake us.

God help me, and all of us, to believe.

Loneliness creates probably the greatest and most devastating hole in the soul of man. Ever since God made us in his image and declared, "It is not good for man to be alone," we were primed to live in perfect intimacy with him and one another. Ever since Adam sinned and the world tumbled into fall, we were doomed to face the pain of loneliness, isolation, alienation.

There are other pains, to be sure; but all of them result in loneliness. Our sin or the sin of others puts walls, barriers, miles of barren terrible wilderness between us and people and us and God. We exist inside our own little hideaway, hoping and wanting and wishing for someone to see us, someone to love us as we are, someone to exist with so we will not have to be alone.

Some loneliness is simply a result of this broken world. Some of it is by choice. Some of it is a result of the evil done by us or to us.

All of it hurts. All of it ends up the same way: distance.

Even those with close friends or a spouse can end up lonely. Loneliness isn't a disease only the single or exiles catch. Sometimes people have a thousand "friends" but not one of them sees them for who they are. You can be in a crowd, it's often said, and be lonelier than those who are alone.

Of course it was not meant to be. In an ideal world, we'd live with perfect closeness between us and God and our fellow man.

In an imperfect world, loneliness can become a pain that forces us to God. I once had a prophetic word that my loneliness had hemmed me in to God, because I had no one else. Truer word never spoken. But it comes at the price of terrible pain.

In an imperfect world, we seek to assuage the terrible, sucking, horrible, emptiness of isolation in many ways. The things we do numb us to protect us from the pain, whatever they are. It could be drugs, it could be surfing the internet endlessly. It could be reaching out and dialing that number when you know you shouldn't. It could be going out to clubs to seek someone to spend the night with, just for the temporary, deceitful feel of love that leaves us emptier than before. Because facing the barren, naked pain with nothing between it and us is unthinkable, it would destroy us.

We have to learn the hard way to go to God. We have to learn the hard way not to give into the powerful, all-encompassing scream to do whatever it is that will give us a few more minutes of peace, shut up the barking dog for a little while. We have to fight against the undertow that will suck us out to sea, into oblivion and into greater hurt. We have to face it, and cry out to Jesus.

That is not as cliched as it sounds. For I've had to do it. Time and time again, when loneliness bites and gnaws like an animal that will destroy me, I've had to identify it, face it, stare it down, resist its urges, and recognize a time to turn to God. If I ignore it and him, I miss an opportunity to learn his love. If I don't take his hand and walk with him through the valley of the shadow of loneliness, I become a shallower and emptier and colder person.

When I cry out to him, he meets me. When I cry out to him, allow him to wrap his arms around me, ask his Spirit to fill me, he does. It comes at the price of terrible pain, I told you. But the result is worth it. It's intimacy with God. I wouldn't, at this point in my life, choose to go back on all the pain. Even though right at this moment, if I could, I'd dodge and duck the pain I'm feeling.

He knows better. Loneliness is a gift. It's not one I would have chosen, but if I walk alone and it allows me to know him and to love others better, I guess, it's worth it.

It's Valentine's Day, and it's hard to escape that fact. For the past two weeks or so, news outlets have been filled with stories about V-Day, both pro- and anti. Gift shop window displays are resplendent with red and pink hearts. On my run today, most of the people I passed seemed to be carrying flowers, wine, or other mysterious gifts in bags. Even Google and YouTube are in on the fun, with customized logos.

I have to admit I like it. I get as mushy as anybody when I hear a good love story, or read about a married couple still in love after decades. My disinterested cynicism has dissolved into, perhaps not full-fledged romanticism, but at least a tender-hearted delight in true love. Much as I hate the commercial aspects of the holiday, a day to celebrate all that's good about the love between a man and a woman seems positive.

However, as a single with no one to celebrate, it's not hard to feel left out. My singleness doesn't bother me, nor does it make me sad on Valentine's Day. I'm happy for those who have something to celebrate, and if that's me one day, I'll enjoy it then.

It did get me thinking, though, about the nature of love.

The definition of "love" that Valentine's Day celebrates is the kind that most people in the western world think of when they hear the word "love". The sparks and butterflies, swept off your feet, sexual attraction, obsessive, fairy-tale love between a man and a woman.

There's nothing wrong with that. It's God-created, and it's good.

But to me, it's a bit sad that for most people in the world, this kind of "love" is not just the only, but the highest kind of love. In the face of a 50% divorce rate, short-term relationships, casual sex, "friends with benefits", cheating, lack of commitment, and the thousand and one other heartbreaks that can come with "romantic love", this seems risky at best, dangerously deluded at worst. And if "love" was limited only to people in relationships, it would leave singles, the divorced, and the widowed in a pretty desperate place.

That's why I'm thankful that as a Christian, I know the source of true Love.

"God is love." The apostle John tells us this in 1 John 4:8. In fact, in the first part of that verse he says, "Whoever does not love does not know God."

The mark of a Christian, and of Christianity, true and Spirit-filled, is love.

God is love.

Those who know God, love.

I could go on and on quoting Scripture verses. This thread is woven throughout the whole New Testament. Jesus, when asked what to do to inherit eternal life, replied, " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" (Luke 10:27)

It's pretty simple. God is love. He has first loved us. We love others. By the love God has given us, and its extension to others, we know that we belong to him.

God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us....God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:4,8)

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. (1 John 3:16)

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 13:35)

Love each other as I have loved you. (John 15:12)

Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. (1 John 4:18-19)

It's pretty simple.

It's pretty great.

His love is perfect, unconditional, never-ending, unlimited. It makes those who know it dance and shout and feel secure.

Real Christianity, not religious bunk, is a love-fest: God to us and us to God and us to others and others to us and out to the world that doesn't know him.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. And for those of you who know this love of God, happy every day of the year. All 365 can be celebrations of perfect love.

I twigged to something today while listening to the very excellent Sonship series taught by Barry Henning of New City Fellowship, St. Louis.

The reason why God doesn't give us righteousness or salvation or anything else in response to our own efforts or attempts at living righteously, is that to do so would be to place God in man's debt. This in turn would make God into not-God, but a cosmic genie who exists to bend himself to man's will and to fulfill the legitimate demands placed on him by our good works. It would mean that we could manipulate God into giving us what we deserve for our efforts.

This is impossible. Instead, as Paul rapturizes in Romans 11:

Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
"Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?"
"Who has ever given to God,
that God should repay him?"
For from him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever! Amen. (Romans 11:33-36)

The reason that righteousness comes only as a gift, never in response to our own efforts, is not only that it is impossible for us to establish our own righteousness due to sin. It is also so that, by doing so, God ensures that all the glory will go to him. As it is rightly so. However, we are the beneficiaries of this boundless and totally free generosity, received only by faith and not by any works we have done!

It seems like a good system to me.

Lately I've been listening to the very excellent Sonship series by Pastor Barry Henning of New City Fellowship in St. Louis, Missouri (scroll down nearly to end of page, second-to-last item).

While I was listening, something clicked. A perennial Christian problem is beginning the Christian life by grace (i.e., recognizing that it's solely by an undeserved gift of God that we receive salvation and all its blessings, based completely on what Jesus has done and not anything we've merited); but then, at some point, slipping back into living by works (i.e., believing that our acceptance with God and living the Christian life depends on our own efforts at obedience).

I've been reading the minor prophets lately. Some of them speak to me more than others, mainly because they relate to the situation(s) I'm in or have been in. Particularly Hosea recently, and now Habakkuk.

These are my verbatim personal notes after reading, no references, no great scholarly comments. I recommend reading it for yourself: just 3 short chapters.

Habakkuk’s cry is the same as throughout the ages: why does evil seem to be winning? Injustice and violence are everywhere. The wicked prevail against the righteous and they are helpless. Habakkuk cries out to God, but God seems to be doing nothing.