Speaking of suffering, my blog was down for FIVE days.  I know.  Tragic beyond words.  It was touch and go, and I wasn’t sure I was going to survive. Yes, I know, I could have written just like a normal person, in Micrsoft Word or something, but somehow it’s not the same as sitting down here, with you, and sharing my heart.  So imagine my joy when just now I checked and that glorious black background came up, my familiar fog and bare trees reflecting off the dark waters.  Ahhh….home at last. 

So many sacred things happened this weekend. I will later write about the Sacredness of Showers, as I was incredibly ministered to and blessed by baby showers this weekend.  But first I had to reflect on the amazing message from church this weekend, from Colossians 1:24-2:7.  Pastor Joel focused on suffering in the life of the believer

We’ve all heard messages on suffering, and perhaps even have some awareness of the suffering endured by Christians in different parts of the world. Or perhaps we even have a vague sense of guilt that we don’t suffer while others do.  Or perhaps we are suffering in some way and cannot understand why God doesn’t deliver us out of it.

One thing that stood out to me was this thought–if we all lived happy, healthy lives, knew we’d live to be 100, and never endured any physical or emotional suffering, how many of us would really turn to Christ?  I mean, think back to the times when you’ve most grown in your faith, most relied on GOd’s strength, most seen Him move miraculously on your behalf, most felt His presence, comfort, and love? I know all of those have been during times of suffering for me.  And yet, we will do anything to avoid suffering.  We spend our life’s energy trying to keep our life free from as much suffering as possible.  While this is normal, and human, and understandable, it does strike me as interesting.

The thing we most loathe brings us to the Thing we most love. 

It is through the things we avoid and yet endure that we gain the precious intimacy with our beautiful Lord that our hearts long and yearn for, just as the labor pains bring the miracle of life.

I do not suffer, I have the most abundantly blessed life I could even imagine.  But there is a trial right now that this past week definitely got my eyes off Jesus.  That is another post–The Sacredness of Surrender. (I told you I have a lot bottled up right now!).  But how big I let this trial become! How all-encompassing. How discouraged and frustrated I felt!  How small my God became.  How I needed a change in perspective. 

At the end of Joel’s message, he shared the story of Pastor Kim, a pastor in North Korea in the 1950s.  I wept as he read this story.  I share it here not to ruin your day or cloud the beautiful sunshine we’re enjoying this week, but to give us perspective.  Oh how we do not suffer! Oh how much perspective changes everything!  If our life is hidden with God in Christ, we can set our minds on heavenly things, and the things of this world grow strangely dim.  I’m thankful for a refreshed perspective this week.  I’m also thankful for saints like Pastor Kim and his little flock of 27, who gave their lives for the gospel:

For years, Pastor Kim and 27 of his flock of Korean saints had lived in hand-dug tunnels beneath the earth. Then as the communists were building a road, they discovered the Christians living underground.

The officials brought them out before a crowd of 30,000 in the village of Gok San for a public trial and execution. They were told, “Deny Christ, or you will die.” But they refused.

At this point the head Communist officer ordered four children from the group seized and had them prepared for hanging. With ropes tied around their small necks, the official again commanded the parents to deny Christ.  Not one of the believers would deny their faith. They told the children, we will see you in Heaven.” The children died quickly.

The officer then called for a steamroller to be brought in.  He forced the Christians to lay on the ground in its path. As its engines revved, they were given one last chance to recant their faith in Jesus. Again they refused.

As the steamroller began to inch forward, the Christians began to sing a song they had often sung together. As their bones and bodies were crushed under the pressure of the massive rollers, their lips uttered the words:

“More love to thee, O Christ, more love to thee
Thee alone I seek, more love to thee
Let sorrow do its work, more love to thee
Then shall my latest breath whisper Thy praise
This be the parting cry my heart shall raise;
More love, O Christ, to thee.”

Let’s sing this song this week.  More love to thee. 

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