All things for good

Any time life feels like it's caving in, the phrase "all things work together for good" suddenly makes its unwanted appearance.
It's meant as encouragement. But most often it only brings frustration.

How dare you tell me that at a time like this? Do you have any idea what I'm going through? The good of who? Go away. These thoughts are sure to surface after hearing this phrase at a dark time.
And I agree. It is obnoxious.

Today I was pondering this out-of-context phrase. Because that's not what it says. It says "all things work together for the good of those who love God and who are called according to His purpose." Oh. even better. So there's a qualifier for this "encouraging" little quip. Once again, go away.

I began to realize, though, that it's not an "if-then" statement. It's not an "if you love God, everything will go your way" kind of phrase. It's not even an "if you love God enough.... then." It's simply that that's the way things work. It's a promise.

I have the bad habit of poking holes in promises. I want to find places and times in my life where this wasn't true and where this statement could be disqualified... as if to prove my point and exalt my bitterness.

But as I poised myself for hole-poking, I realized that I must first think about what "good" means. I'm pretttyyy sure "good" doesn't mean having everything go my way. Even though it sounds like it. Or no sickness. Or no sadness or no disappointments. I wondered what it could mean and came to the conclusion that the ultimate best thing in life is to know Christ more. It is surpassing greatness. It is better than anything temporary this life has to offer.

The more I know Him, the more I can love Him.

I set to work recording every major low point in my life. It seemed like it would be a depressing task. But it wasn't. Because I looked through a different lens.

I asked myself... how is my life "better" because of this event? Every time, starting with cancer, continuing through sudden death and loss, growing apart from people, failure, and deep loneliness, I found beauty. I found a growing understanding of who God is. I found myself thanking God for that event, realizing I could never know Him as I know Him now if it hadn't been for that. Suddenly I discovered that if right now I was given the opportunity to revisit these moments and erase them from the timeline of my life, I would cling to them.

For in my deepest disappointments, hurt, and pain, my understanding of my      Creator-Savior grew the most.

I've been struggling with unanswered questions. Why did you let that happen, God? Why would you give, just to take away? Anger. Resentment.

But I've been asking the wrong questions.

What are you trying to teach me, God? Show me more of who You are.

And suddenly... forget the eraser to my timeline! I want it all there... I wouldn't trade in any of these hurts.  If it hadn't been for the cancer, I wouldn't have pondered whether serving a God who gives and takes away is really worth it. If it hadn't been for the death of my Papa, I wouldn't have started to pray. To speak to God, and truly begin listening. If it hadn't been for the failure of qualifying for a scholarship competition, I wouldn't know what it's like to live in vulnerability, to know grace in the core of who I am. If it hadn't been for growing apart, I never would have recognized my fear, my insecurities, and my need for my Savior to define my identity.

All things work together for the good of those who love God and who are called according to His purpose. (Rom. 8:28)

If my heart has to break, let my love sprout from the rubble of brokenness.

The tip of the iceberg

It has been a grueling week and a half of teaching. And it's only Wednesday.

I have had nightmares of teaching math... and they are well-founded. Every day I have way too many furrowed brows and narrowed eyes staring at me in confusion as I try to come up with yet another way to explain how to find fractions of a set, subtract fractions from whole numbers, and find three fifths of twenty... I've been at the end of my rope. For days.

But today we had a breakthrough.

I had little gasps of "oooh!" or "really? that's it?" or "OH! I get it!" Slowly I heard sighs of relief all around the room. I heard them pick up their pencils once again as they decided they would pick it back up and keep trying. (They had gotten in the rotten habit of just giving up, putting their pencil down, and checking out.)

I wanted to make sure I didn't breathe too soon. But I made an off-hand comment... that they were at the tip of the iceberg. I meant that they were at the verge of completely understanding everything we've been working on for weeks... everything in fractions was about to come to a head.
They looked at me, confused once again, until one spunky child shouted out, "wait... we're about to go down like the Titanic?"

I had meant the opposite. That the tip of the iceberg was a good thing. And now as I think about it, I realize I may have used the phrase incorrectly.

But.

I realize I am at the same point in my life right now. At the tip of the iceberg.

I began studying the idea of my "identity in Christ" for the first time. I'm not one of those girls with huge "identity" issues... as I told myself before I started the study. It's probably why I avoided studying it.

Welp. I have been brought to the iceberg. The point where everything I have always known has been pushed deep into my heart. It has punctured my heart, and it has flooded it with the truth that I have always known, yet never grasped. I am drowning in grace. Drowning in the love of my Savior... unsure of what to do with what my Savior has done for me... except to fall in complete awe of Him and what He has chosen to make me: His child -- accepted, loved, free, guiltless, and righteous.

I pray each of you may crash into this iceberg, your lives transformed by His love.