Parents have dreams and desires for their children.
And sometimes those desires are cut short by the intrusion of Job-like illness, suffering, and even death.
We believe in the sovereignty of God. We know that worship is our calling when God orchestrates trials in our lives.
But what does that worship sound like when our children are the ones who are suffering? Here are three examples I have seen recently. The stories are different, but the quality of faith is the same (a brief excerpt is given from each):
What we have asked nearly every person we have seen since Friday is “What if it had been you? Where would you be right now?” We diligently raised Trent up to know his sinful state and taught him what the Word of God says because we know the implications of denying Christ now, and God was gracious to answer our prayers and to save Him. Scripture says that the gospel will go forth with much sorrow and heartache. Please let Trent’s short life be a wake-up call to you. We are rejoicing in the sorrow because we know where our son is and that we will one day be with him again for eternity because of our own salvation.
God’s mercies are new every day, and His peace does surpass all understanding. God has been so gracious to us in these few days by blessing us first of all with His peace. The family and friends that have surrounded us and have lifted us up in prayer are amazing and another testimony to God’s goodness.
…God is glorified in terminal illness in that he causes us to trust more in his Son who is the resurrection and the life than in any form of temporary healing. Even if Christ is to heal Karis in the here and now, that healing will be short-lived because the morality rate for us all is still 100 percent. She will still eventually suffer from some other sickness that will take her life. Terminal illnesses do not shorten life (God determines the number of our days) but simply remind us of the shortness of life and remove the illusion of safety that comes from good health. Further, God is glorified when we turn from our earthly securities and find our security in him.
Picture, if you will, the last dinner Jesus shared with his disciples. In their minds, as he began to expound on the necessity of his departure, everything was being taken from them. We have a vantage point that they did not: history. We understand that Jesus, God’s greatest possession, was not withheld from us in order to deliver the greatest good. How then shall Jessica and I view this trial? Shall we look at our daughter, who is not even our possession, and cling to her as though she is our hope? It may feel as though at every turn everything is being taken from us. . . yet the Lord whispers, “. . . by such severing more good would be, and you would know far more of me.”
I have frequently said that when my own children are experiencing trouble in their lives, a frequent inclination is that I would rather undergo that trial on their behalf so they would not have to endure the difficulty. But the truth is that God is ordering that circumstance in their lives so that they will learn to trust and be satisfied in Him. And to remove the trial from their lives would be to remove the very mechanism that will deepen and solidify their faith in our gracious God.
How will you worship the Lord today in your trouble?
