Once More Deeply Moved

There are those times when there doesn’t seem to be any way out—when there doesn’t seem to be any way that you are going to be able to endure your cancer treatment, pay your bills, or reconcile your marriage. There doesn’t seem to be any way that you are going to be able to cope with your grief, break free from your addiction, or find peace in the midst of your anxiety. There doesn’t seem to be any way that you are going to be able to experience healing for your trauma, forgive that other person or yourself…or trust in God again.

Do you sometimes reflect on the price you have paid for certain things in your life? I’m not speaking primarily about material purchases. I’m talking more about the price you may have paid for things like pleasing others, meeting people’s expectations, making a given amount of money, having a certain type of appearance, achieving certain things in your life, or being “good enough in order to be loved.”

I have spent a lifetime trying to impress others in order to win their approval in order to be good enough to be loved. I can say now that this “impress others to be loved” strategy doesn’t work. Most of you are way ahead of me in knowing that trying to impress others, even when we succeed, does not make us feel loved. And so often the price we have to pay to try to impress is far too expensive.

As I move along in years, I realize that one of the greatest tricks I have experienced is one that has caused me to pay a large sum for things that are of little value. “All the enemy has to do,” my good friend Gary Moon told me years ago, “is sneak into the jewelry store of our lives and switch the price tags. We then end up paying a high price for jewels that end up being of little value.” As that description has captured my soul, I have come to realize that “the enemy” is primarily me and “one of the greatest tricks” is one that I have played on myself—that I have believed that I have to be good enough in order to be loved.

Have you ever had the experience of hugging someone who does not accept your hug? Both of your arms are wrapped around the person while their arms hang limp from their shoulders, like the sleeves of a shirt on a hanger. If we want to be fully embraced by someone, we have to receive their hug and return their hug.

Many of us struggle to be fully embraced by the Lord. Thomas Keating has written, “If you want to be fully embraced by the Lord, you have to accept both arms: the one that allows suffering for the sake of purification and the one that brings the joy of union.” We may easily accept the arm of God that brings comfort and joy. We may struggle to accept the arm that permits pain and heartache for the sake of our growth and renewal.

The Soul Care Commission is the Biblical mandate which calls Christ followers to provide the ministry of soul care—that is, to support and restore the well-being of persons, in the midst of their circumstances, in such a way that they are increasingly formed into the likeness of Christ.

Some twenty-five years ago, a dearly beloved person in my life shared a story with me that changed my life. Her meaning in telling the story was to help me understand that God had everything I needed to put out the fire of the painful trial I was experiencing at that time.

Ash Wednesday begins the Lenten Season for those who are Christ-followers—a season of spiritual preparation for Resurrection Sunday. Believers engage that preparation through the more intentional practice of various spiritual disciplines, such as prayer, Scripture reading, confession, meditation, contemplation, fasting, journaling, self-denial, and acts of love. The goal of Lenten preparation and practice is to clear the road for God to work transformation in one’s life—the kind of transformation represented by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from death to new life.

In the midst of a season of misery, have you ever questioned whether God cares about your suffering? It can be one of the most painful experiences a Christ-follower can endure. Not only are you dealing with the searing pain of your trial, you also find yourself wondering whether God is paying attention.

On some intellectual level, you may believe that God cares about your pain. But, you may also struggle to experience God’s compassion for you at a deeper level. David questioned whether God cared about his suffering when he said to God, “Why have you forgotten me?” in Psalm 42:9.