Thinking Aloud

Every human being has trials.  Every blessed man, woman and child of us.  
They look so different from one person to the next that it isn't always easy to remember similarities outweigh the distinctions.  For some, known physical deficiencies accompany birth, others are burdened by malignancies that creep up gradually or sudden injury that lasts a lifetime or a period that feels like a lifetime.  Trials are loneliness that has never eased, or heartbreak that empties a cup once overflowing with abundance of loving relationships.  Even deprivation of material substance brings a different kind of testing, a heaviness that often weighs down a life.  
Each experience can isolate, weaken, hinder.  And somehow, it is always unexpected when the locusts swarm the fields, and stay for years.  

Concerned for the vulnerability of students I love, this was the focus of my graduation address in the spring:
"'Do not be surprised at the fiery trials.'  Right living does not erase the brokenness of this world.
There is no guarantee that Christ's righteousness on your behalf is an armor against disappointment, grief or even devastation.   But those are the times when you will know God to be your refuge and your strength -- a very present help in time of trouble.
This is amazing news.  Your greatest triumphs will be when you are emptied and weak and a beggar.  When all of your merit is stripped away and you know your own helplessness,  God will be near to you.  He will supply His strength, so that the boasting will all be 'the Lord has done great things for me.'  Those are moments of true, refining gold making. 
God made you, uniquely fitted you to do something great.  You will fall and fail.  BUT in those times you will find the true accomplishments of your lives.  Each of us needs a Redeemer of our soul and our life...in all its motives and minutes."

They were true words six months ago, and are so today.
And yet.
Trials (fiery, or run-of-the-mill-garden-variety-type) often encase me in a fog of me.
Having never been an insect, I am led by numerous readings of Charlotte's Web to surmise that a fly stunned into inertia by a spider feels similarly the numbness which renders a binding web and imminent demise to be things barely worth a wriggle or twitch.
I'm thinking that isn't my purpose.
Actually, I am increasingly convinced that God doesn't "supply the strength" in order for me to feign death until my enemy loses interest.  The "great things He is doing" must describe more than my living a few years just holding my breath. 
Then, truth came as a micro-adjustment to the focus of my heart this week.
From two separate sermons from two separate pulpits from two separate decades I heard that God brings us through trials in order to equip us to serve.
Hmm.
Wow.
I like imagining the muscle building accomplished during a fiery time might be used to pry a heavy beam off of another pilgrim further on.  That seems a much more valuable outcome than semi-conscious, web-bound survival.
And perhaps God even brings us joy in the middle of our trials through our serving.  Although the end goal is not my happiness, surely James was alluding to something worthwhile when he encouraged believers to consider the aspect of joy within the context of faith-testing times.

It might be that these opportunities to focus on something other than the roaring wind and the rising waves provide that elusive way to "turn our eyes upon Jesus."

And if not, 
...it still seems a more worthwhile way to pass the time.


Lead on, O King eternal,
till sin's fierce war shall cease,
and holiness shall whisper
the sweet amen of peace.

For not with swords' loud clashing
or roll of stirring drums,
but deeds of love and mercy
the heavenly kingdom comes.