We would often kneel in prayer thanking God for certain trials that come into our life if we knew ahead of time what He was saving us from. Only then, would we count it all joy!
Since my earliest memories, I can recall being grateful for the little things, like sun sets or the simplicity of nature, anticipating a good rise from homemade bread, and spending time with the people I love.
But I’ve not always welcomed the more difficult paths of my life. You know, the ones that make you cringe when you believe the outcome will be bleak, long, and burdensome?
I’m not speaking about the sleepless nights of nursing a sick baby, miscommunication with a friend that causes frustration, or the times when the flu and colds wreak havoc in your household all winter long. The little bumps and bruises along the way that challenge our patience is part of the life we live.
I am speaking of the bigger trials in life that cause us to have an anxious spirit, believing the lies whispered, accepting toxic people in our life that seem to have the loudest opinions about who we are, and long to be set-apart from the world’s nonsense and chaos.
It’s hard to be grateful for those trials.
The very first time I had been a witness to someone going through their own storm with a spirit of surrender and joy, I struggled to understand that kind of peace. They weren’t bitter or angry towards having to go through the hard. And as I self-reflected, I realized all I did was try to bury my hard.
Some of our most difficult struggles in this life are handed to us. They are called iniquities. Some are simply from our own doing.
We don’t get to choose our hard.
When I was pregnant with my 5th born, a friend and I were discussing the storms of life and how weary we both were becoming, for two totally different reasons. She said something I’ll never forget. “Natalie, have you thanked God for the trials in your life?” I sat and stared at her with such confusion. That was the first I heard of such a thing! (I was still sorting out my theology here.)
She was going through her own trial in dealing with the death of her husband. I just assumed she was grieving in her own way, so I chose to smile, have a quiet spirit, and give her the time to vent. Before we parted ways, I gave her the biggest hug in hopes that my response to her was gentle, and with compassion.
A few months later, while having some quiet time, I came across two portions of scripture that I sat on for awhile. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 says, “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.”
and Philippians 4:5-8 says, “Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
My friend, and the death of her husband, immediately came to the forefront of my mind. This was what she was meaning. God was using her words to bring this portion of scripture to my attention.
Beforehand, I would be confused why the same trials and thought patterns would repeat themselves over, and over in my adult-mind like they did in my childhood. I didn’t know how to work them out successfully until I dug into what these scriptures meant. Infirmities? Taking pleasure in persecution? I can dwell on things that are lovely all day long, but when hard things come my way (and I mean HARD!) how do I settle into a place of joy when I would rather crawl into a hole?
Coming from a conditional, critical home, I saw this world so cruel and callous. I saw life through clouded vision and the lies I believed had control over my thoughts. I really believed most families were chaotic, people had cruel intentions, and were oppressive in every way possible. I didn’t trust anyone. There was no joy in living that way.
I could make a list a mile long of my debilitating fears, and they would probably sound absurd to those whom have had normal, childhood relational interactions. But my relationships were not normal. My experiences were not healthy. My thoughts were trained from a young age and my thinking errors were very much ingrained.
There were several decades of my life that the constant threat from my mother to institutionalize me became paralyzing. To render someone powerless is to commit them to a life-long struggle and attempt to deaden their spirit forever. This caused me to take a lot of unnecessary precautions to protect myself and any time it reared its ugly head, it affected my joy. I continued to look over my shoulder and carried too many burdens into my marriage.
You may understand a little better now why thanking God for any trial was completely foreign to me.
God was slowly renewing my mind, using the friendship of others, unpacking the Bible at my pace, and being married to Mr. Patient was paramount in helping me relieve my anxiousness.
After being able to think for myself, I have had some of the most profound revelations and freedom by owning these particular portions of scripture for my life. There is such a thing called living peaceably, showing gratefulness towards one another, living in harmony, praying for one another, guarding our homes with wholesomeness, honoring each other, choosing joy, living with pure motives, and encouraging each other daily, especially in the midst of trials. This is called the Christian life!
Every wound, all the chaos, and each tear… He saw. He was there. And He never left. He used those hard things to draw me close to His goodness, to remind me that His love never fails, and to open my eyes to the true meaning of the gospel.
I may have never been able to learn to thank Him unless I saw His goodness through my own difficulties. He wasn’t the one who caused that kind of pain. He could have certainly protected me from it, but who am I to judge why He allowed atrocities to happen to me? I could allow myself to play the what if game. If He placed me in a safe home, without alcohol, mind control, and abuse, would I learn to lean on Him? I don’t know that answer. Maybe, maybe not.
What I do know is that He allowed major hurts and trials in my formative years because He knew those circumstances would be what drew me to need a Savior in my adult life. I can’t imagine how I would raise a passel of kids without Jesus. I needed every part of Christ’s mercy and grace on my life by the time I was old enough to realize what was happening. And that those trials were for a bigger purpose, His purpose.
Admittedly, when I am face to face with the devil, choosing a spirit of joy is not so easy. I will fight back, but I have my moments when my tears just have their way.
In time, the clouds will part and give way to sunshine again. God will clear a path to move forward. I will see Him slowly heal my blurry vision, and tenderly care for my weary spirit.
I can not even begin to express how grateful I am that God allowed me to have ears to hear my dear, most thoughtful friend ask me if I was thankful in the midst of her own hurt. It has changed the way I see a hurting world.
It’s much too easy to let Satan run amuck and snuff out the light. When we allow those around us to become close enough to laugh and cry with, we will find God delicately mending those shattered pieces back together. It will be then that we find the courage to thank Him in the midst of our brokenness.
I would love to go more into detail about what the scriptures mean to me, how my children’s name meanings played a vital role in a perspective change, and how the Lord takes me to deep, soul-searching places so I am able to come out of a trial to see the sunrise on the other side.
I can look into each of my children’s eyes today, know exactly where I was mentally and emotionally with God when I named each of them at birth. Each have a significant meaning with a scripture behind their name that only God laid upon my heart to give. And through my journey with Christ, He has used motherhood to continue to remind me of what He has saved me from.
It doesn’t erase the scars, but I have much to be grateful for.
So if you are facing a trial right now, are you letting your requests be made known to the only One who can help? Are you kneeling in prayer with supplication? Or are you anxious and losing hope?
For anyone struggling with sickness, health concerns, relationships, financial difficulties, a death of a loved one, or fiery darts from the enemy, know that God has the last say. He alone gets to decide what tests and trials come our way.
Our prayer for the hurting or anxious is for all to rest in Him, knowing full well that He is our refuge and our fortress. What He says is true and we can dwell in the shelter of the Almighty. (Psalm 91) Never underestimate what prayer and supplication can do in your life because He does hear us, and He does care about our hurts.
The first and most important thing to remember during these times is understanding that every single person on earth goes through them. Christians are promised trials. (1 Peter 4:12-14)
The second most important is fight the good fight of the faith. (1 Timothy 6:12)
Thirdly, we should count it all joy when we meet trials of various kinds. (James 1:2)
And fourthly, remembering to gather your family around, and kneel in prayer with your children to thank God for using the trial for our growth. (James 1:12)
His mercies are rich and children need to see this if they are to ever understand a Holy God. You want to give them the richness of Who God really is during those trials.
Nothing goes unnoticed by our God. Nothing is a surprise to Him either.
He gives us peace knowing that whatever happens, it isn’t without His permission first.
As a family, when we feel the heat coming down the pipe, we sing this cute little song that we borrowed from another family. It goes something like this:
Count it all joy when you fall into diverse temptations. Count it all joy when you suffer great tribulation. When you love God as you should, He’ll work together all things for our good… Better than we ever could, so count it all J-O-Y!
Even though my friend didn’t vocalize what she meant by thanking God in her trials, I realize now she didn’t have to. God used her words to plant a seed within me to reap in a different season.
It’s easy to be grateful for the things in this life that come together seamlessly. But it’s difficult to actually thank God for the hard things we face when we know He could keep us from it with one word.
And as much as we don’t like dealing with the hard, the simple answer is, a life of faith that isn’t tested can’t be a faith that is trusted.
So, who am I that He would care enough about in my little tribulations here on earth and still choose to save me from them?
Only then, does it become a joy to thank Him for those trails I once loathed.
Natalie
James 1:2
Praying for all of the families we have been so privileged to know over the years. We love you.