Refuge

One of the distressing consequences of the last two months of chemotherapy was missing many church services.  It was so wonderful this past Sunday to once again sit in church and to fellowship with my family in Christ.  I know we go to church  because we are told to not neglect the meeting together of the saints and we are told as a body of Christ that we are to go, not because of what church does for us, but because we are called to worship God Almighty.  However, I realized again this Sunday, that there is a wonderful reciprocal blessing in going to the house of God as it is such a wonderful refuge.  The call to worship was from one of my favorite Psalms, Psalm 46, which speaks of God being our refuge and strength.  One of the hymns was another favorite, O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus.

              O the deep, deep love of Jesus!  Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free;

              Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me.

              Underneath me, all around me, is the current of thy love;

              leading onward, leading homeward, to thy glorious rest above.

Then there was the message about the church in Corinth being used to teach us that all our joys and all our sufferings, all the things that weigh down our hearts are given resolution and meaning in Christ as the focus becomes about Him and not us.        

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

It was a special refuge this past Sunday, surrounded by family in Christ, after an especially stressful week.  The week was weighed with decisions that I did not want to make.  The decision about whether to go along with the MD Anderson doctors and pursue a new chemotherapy regimen followed by possible surgery was hard to make as every part of my being cried out against doing it.  However, I (as well as many reading this) prayed for wisdom and I did feel that my oncologist's encouragement to give it a try was wise.  I am getting used to the idea, but must say that I continue to dread it.  I am saddened by the fact that the second treatment will be finishing when my first grandbaby will be arriving.  (My daughter-in-law, reminded me however, that it might make it easier to recover having the little one to hold and cuddle!)  As things stand now, I will have a port put in this Friday and probably go into the hospital next Wednesday for five days of treatment.

I'll admit to discouragement and shedding of tears during the past week as I contemplated the options.  Knowing what is coming and having been down the path twice already is not helpful.  In my discouragement I have found myself asking God "why?"  "Why can't the path be clearer?"  "Why can't the treatment be easier?"  "Why can't there be more certainty?"  "Why does life have to be so hard for the children when they are so young?"  And, of course, "Why must I go through this?"  I can remember asking like questions when my husband went through three years of cancer before being taken to glory in 2006.  It was not, and is not, for me a questioning of God's wisdom or right to allow this path, but simply wishing I had an explanation.  I didn't get a lot of answers at the time of my husband's illness, but have seen many answers since.   I'm sure even more answers will be obvious when I reach the glorious shore.   That gives me hope and reminds me that God's ways are perfect ways, that His purposes will be fulfilled and it will all be for the best.  In the meantime I will take refuge in the house of God as often as I can.

As I struggled this past week, I took up re-rereading a wonderful book on God's purposes in suffering.  It is called When God Weeps by Joni Eareckson Tada and Steve Estes.  I highly recommend the book.  It is written by someone whose suffering was so much more than any of us can even imagine, someone who also asked "why" and found some wonderful answers in looking first to who God is.  The book brings the focus of suffering away from me and shows that it is about God.  In answer to why the authors say in part,

              

              First, ..God's plan calls for all Christians to suffer sometimes intensely....

             

              Second, God's plan is specific.  He doesn't say, "Into each life a little rain must fall," then

              aim a hose in earth's general direction and see who gets the wettest.  He doesn't reach

              for a key, wind up nature with its sunny days and hurricanes, then sit back and watch

              the show.  He doesn't let Satan prowl about totally unrestricted.  He doesn't believe in

              a hands-off policy of governing.  He's not our planet's absent landlord.  Rather, he

              screens the trials that come to each of us--allowing only those that accomplish his good

              plan, because he takes no joy in human agony. These trials aren't evenly distributed

              from person to person.  This can discourage us, for we are not privy to his reasons.

              But in God's wisdom and love, every trial in a Christian's life is ordained  from eternity

              past, custom-made for that believer's eternal good, even when it doesn't seem like it. 

              Nothing happens by accident....not even tragedy...not even sins committed against us.

             

              Third, the core of his plan is to rescue us from our sin....

             

              Last, every sorrow we taste will one day prove to be the best possible thing that could

              have happened.  We will thank God endlessly in heaven for the trials he sent us here.

I recall my pastor once saying that it is ok to ask God "why," and I know that is true.  However, I am becoming more and more convinced that the answers to those questions are simply too big to understand in the here and now.  I don't think I am capable of comprehending the magnitude of why the loving, all-knowing, holy, merciful God would have me go down this path today.  All He gives me in answers for today is His assurance that He is "my refuge and my strength" and that ALL He does is good.  I know one day when I reach my eternal home I will be able to say, "Thank you Lord for allowing that in my life" and I will rejoice as His plan and purposes are unfolded.

Another daughter-in-law, shared a song last week that said a great deal about how I was feeling.

A Song for the Suffering - Shane & Shane and John Piper (http://vimeo.com/71765067 -to listen to it)

I come, God, I come

I return to the Lord

The one who’s broken

The one who’s torn me apart

You strike down to bind me up

You say you do it all in love

That I might know you in your suffering

Though you slay me

Yet I will praise you

Though you take from me

I will bless your name

Though you ruin me

Still I will worship

Sing a song to the one who’s all I need

My heart and flesh may fail

The earth below give way

But with my eyes, with my eyes I’ll see the Lord

Lifted high on that day

Behold, the Lamb that was slain

And I’ll know every tear was worth it all

Though you slay me

Yet I will praise you

Though you take from me

I will bless your name

Though you ruin me

Still I will worship

Sing a song to the one who’s all I need

Though tonight I’m crying out

Let this cup pass from me now

You’re still more than I need

You’re enough for me

You’re enough for me

[Not only is all your affliction momentary, not only is all your affliction light in comparison to eternity and the glory there. But all of it is totally meaningful. Every millisecond of your pain, from the fallen nature or fallen man, every millisecond of your misery in the path of obedience is producing a peculiar glory you will get because of that.

I don’t care if it was cancer or criticism. I don’t care if it was slander or sickness. It wasn’t meaningless. It’s doing something! It’s not meaningless. Of course you can’t see what it’s doing. Don’t look to what is seen.

When your mom dies, when your kid dies, when you’ve got cancer at 40, when a car careens into the sidewalk and takes her out, don’t say, “That’s meaningless!” It’s not. It’s working for you an eternal weight of glory.

Therefore, therefore, do not lose heart. But take these truths and day by day focus on them. Preach them to yourself every morning. Get alone with God and preach his word into your mind until your heart sings with confidence that you are new and cared for.]

Though you slay me

Yet I will praise you

Though you take from me

I will bless your name

Though you ruin me

Still I will worship

Sing a song to the one who’s all I need

Sing a song to the one who’s all I need