One of the most constant themes in this life of ours seems to be pain. Suffering. Trials. Whatever you wish to name it. The reality of pain is inescapable. It’s constant. Things are not as they should be, which means that we all experience evils and discomforts.
One of our first afternoons in Zambia was spent at a funeral. A teacher we were supposed to be working with, her father passed away the night before. So, it’s one of our first days in this country and we’re told that we must visit their home to give our condolences (and will later attend the burial). In most African countries, the family opens up their home for everyone to visit. To all friends, family, and strange white people no one has ever met before. We brought food and gifts for the family and sat inside to pay our respects through a time of silence.
As we sat in silence for a man I didn’t even know the name of… God began to bring to mind the all the things I had not yet mourned. At training camp for the WR, we actually had a full session to ask God what we needed to grieve. The cool thing was that they knew the importance of giving these things to God before being able to move forward. So what did I do during our time to ask God what we still needed to mourn? I napped. And it was a glorious nap. When we met back together to share, I made something up. No clue what I said. I still have the blank space in my journal that was reserved for that time.
So here I am, sitting in a home, with a woman I’ve never met, whose father has just died. We began to sing, “It is well” and no exaggeration, the tears start to roll. Not just because it was an emotional moment, but also because I realized all the things I still hadn’t grieved. They might not compare to the death of a father, but that doesn’t negate their realness.
No matter what we have suffered, whether large or small, we need to consider what suffering is not… “God is not punishing you. He is not waiting for you to do something. You don’t have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and find a way to conquer the odds, be stronger, or transform yourself into some better version of yourself” (Tchividjian, Glorious Ruin).
Rather than God being interested in your improvements or momentary happiness, “He is interested in saving you. He is more than your Helper; He is your Redeemer…there may not be [a] silver lining, especially not in the ways we would like. But we don’t need answers as much as we need God’s presence in and through the suffering itself” (Tchividjian).
This Zambian funeral changed things for me. We must take the time to mourn the past, failed expectations, evils that were committed against us, and just challenging times. It’s okay to question why, but we must remember the Who.
After our time there, she came up to us and told us about her father; she shared what he was like, what he accomplished, and how well he loved others. She also thanked us for coming. Over and over she said how much it showed that we cared to be there. In my mind, it was such a small (and weird) thing to attend, so I didn’t even think about what it conveyed to her. Which led me to tears once again remembering who has been by my side throughout my rough patches. He’s the one who has met me where I’m at. He’s the one that said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4).
“When pain comes, don’t run away. Run to it, and you will find you have run into the arms of Jesus…Then you will laugh and dance in the freedom and the reality of God’s sufficiency and the power that becomes awesome in your weakness” (Steve Brown, A Scandalous Freedom).
