For a Little While, Part III

The fear of the Lord is the third comfort that the Lord has given to me during this season of suffering. You see, the fear of the Lord and the fear of man are mutually exclusive. Much of my spiritual and emotional distress over the years has been an outgrowth of the fear of man and a refusal to believe that “there is now therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” This time of suffering and uncertainty has forced me to rehearse what I know to be true about my life and my salvation—that God’s fundamental orientation toward me has changed as a result of a Gospel which declares that God is now for me in Christ. Romans 8:28 leaves little room for doubt; the design of God, for those who love him and are called according to his purpose, is salvation. What does salvation mean? In God is the Gospel, John Piper describes salvation as an “all-encompassing word” that “embraces all the gospel promises, such as the promise of healing, help for the poor, liberation for captives, peace, eternal life, global expanse, and the all-satisfying vision of the glory of God."

That—the vision of the glory of God—is what I had missed in my salvation for years. Yet there were moments, in the darkest times of suffering, that the Lord revealed himself to me in new ways. And what can I report? Yes, I was satisfied. I was satisfied in the midst of my suffering, because God is great beyond all measure. Even in my sanctified, glorified body, I will never be great. The people of whom I have been afraid will never be great. "Michele! Hear this." God is great. May those who seek him rejoice and be glad in him. May those who love his salvation say forever, "God is great!” (Psalm 70:4).

So I remind myself regularly that the Lord will accomplish His purposes for me (Psalm 57:2, Romans 8:28). And his purposes are not feeble like my own; he has purposed no less than my total salvation. So, after I have suffered a little while, the God all grace, who has called me to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish me (I Peter 5:10). There is no post-illness contingency in God’s plan. He will accomplish His purposes for my life; working in me a salvation that will be to the praise of his glory. So I will rejoice in the hope of the glory of God—not in the hope of a diagnosis or the alleviation of pain.

Reject Yourself

God is calling us to look away from the little world we have made to the One who made us. God is calling us to stop putting our hope in what we can do and start putting our hope in the divine Doer. Regard him with desire and glad expectation, and you will discover that he is enough. Reject everything incompatible with him--the idolatrous altars of your heart. If you will suffer the loss of all things to gain Christ, he will make you too happy to care. That is faith, and God is calling you to live by that faith. Stop trusting in your own altars of incense. Let Christ alone be your sweet incense before a holy God. Reject yourself. Embrace Christ as your offering acceptable to God, and he will accept you without your own works-righteousness. No matter what you lose in order to gain Christ, don't worry about it. He's worth everything.

Isaiah: God Saves Sinners by Ray Ortlund

For a Little While, Part II

I think back to this verse in Romans 15: “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” The encouragement of the Scriptures has been the primary way that hope has been produced in my heart throughout this time, and it is the only way that fear has been conquered. For example, the Lord brought this verse from Psalm 16 to my mind as I went for my first MRI, “I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” Every time claustrophobia and panic threatened to overtake me, I would envision the Lord before me, at my right hand. The comfort of Scripture was as tangible as I’ve ever known it to be at that time. I must have repeated that verse to myself 100 times during that 45 minute procedure! And the encouragement of the Scriptures gave me hope that I could withstand the next MRI, just a few hours later

You, the body of Christ, are the second of the comforts which the Lord has given to me. I truly do not know how I would have survived these last few months without this church and my colleagues at Crossway. I am grateful to the Lord that he has not called us to bear our burdens alone but has, instead, provided both His body and His spirit to sustain us here on this earth.

What exactly does it mean to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ?” Sometimes it means sleeping in a chair in his hospital room; it means feeding her cat or watering her plants; it means calling to pray with him or let him cry. It means cleaning her house or cooking her meals; it means praying for the things that matter to him when he is too weak to pray. It means, maybe above all else, that you pointed her to Christ when she could see only herself. You were the Lord’s hands and feet to me in these ways and more.

For a Little While, Part I

Around March 1, I began to have some pain in my shins. Since I was then running between 15 and 20 miles per week, it seemed obvious that what I was dealing with was shin splints. I administered treatment accordingly, using the RICE prescription (rest, ice, compress, elevate) that all runners know by heart.

To make a long story short, I was hospitalized on May 1 after these progressively worsening “shin splints” rendered me unable to walk. A trip to the emergency room led to hospitalization and the seemingly inevitable diagnosis of MS. The nurses brought me literature on “Coping with MS” and talked about brain lesions as I lay alone in my room. A gruff but kindly neurologist patted my hand and asked, “Did you plan to get married? Have kids? What were your plans before now?” The rest of the conversation was lost on me. All I heard was that this disease marked the turning point in my life; there was a before and an after, and everything that I wanted was trapped in the before.

Two weeks, two MRIs and a spinal tap later, the doctors ruled out MS. In the meantime, I have a team of doctors that no 28-year-old should have—including a neurologist, an orthopedist, and a rheumatologist. Each one has commended me to another’s care, but no one has come up with a treatment plan or even a way to manage pain. Rheumatoid arthritis? Some other type of autoimmune disease like lupus? A subtle neurological disorder? A slipped disc? I’ve left almost all of my doctor’s appointments in tears. Sometimes the uncertainty is even harder to bear than the pain.

From early April to mid-June, my pain was unrelenting, even in the face of the narcotics that the doctors prescribed. Still, about four weeks ago and after more than five months, my pain began to diminish. I have no clear medical explanation for this. It may be an indication that an autoimmune disease is going into remission; it may be an indication that several months of rest has relieved an orthopedic problem; it may be an indication that the Lord has healed me. The uncertainty may well outlast the pain. Yet in all of this I rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, I have been grieved by various trials.

"If necessary" means that much work has been done in my heart and mind through this pain. Suffering renders everything foreign—the most familiar comforts, the day-to-day tasks, the furniture of life. Three comforts have been heightened for me in place of the hard work, independence, and various types of self-gratification that were my sustenance before. I had never known the comfort of Scripture, the efficacy of the body, or the clean and enduring fear of the Lord as they have been revealed to me in these past few months. I wish that I could say that the fleshly comforts were no longer appealing to me, but I can say that the severe mercy of God is breaking the stranglehold of sin in my life by all means necessary.

On Suffering

My pastor has asked me to speak on suffering for about five minutes on Sunday. The next few posts will be excerpts from that longer testimony (which would take much more than five minutes to read in its entirety).

Some of this will be redundant for those of you who have been following along with me for the past few months. I pray, nonetheless, that it will bless you again and that it will stir up my heart and yours to fresh faith and fresh faithfulness.

Click over to Boundless or Between Two Worlds to see a bit more discussion about my testimony.

Slave to Food: My Story

Carolyn McCulley has posted my (verbose) testimony about eating disorders here.

On Coveting

I trust that it is okay to covet, if we are coveting only the prayers of others.

My best friend and I, along with half of our colleagues at Crossway, are going to be attending the International Christian Retail Show in Atlanta for the better part of next week.

I fly out tomorrow and return on Thursday. This will be the first time that I have flown since the onset of the illness, and these days are also likely to be the most physically demanding ones that I've had since March. I have to confess that I feel a great deal of apprehension--about the travel and about fulfilling all the responsibilities that are mine as soon as I step off the plane. Most (if not all) of the apprehension and my response to it have been sinful. I have been coveting ease, comfort, rest, and safety and forgetting that the Lord ordained the timing of my illness, the need for this trip, and every single appointment and interview that clamors for my attention over the next few days. Not one of these things escaped his attention.

It's time to take hold of my wayward heart and mind; I have prayed that the Lord would enable me to will and to do so before I board the plane. I feel the will changing even now; Lord, continue this good work that you have begun.

I confess that my mind has been set on the flesh--on my flesh, with all of the new demands, expectations, and preferences so readily dictated by my illness. My legs hurt worse yesterday than they have in two weeks or more, so I have to force my mind to embrace anything but the thoughts of the pain and the fear of where it might lead. Romans tells me that dwelling upon these things is death to me, and I know well the truth of this verse. There has been something like death in my heart for several weeks now.

What is the remedy? As always, the remedy is the gospel--the remedy is to set my mind on the Christ-exalting Spirit of God, which yields life and peace. "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you." Life to my mortal body. Spirit, I need the life that you give.

I was reading in I Peter that we purity our souls "by our obedience to the truth." Recognizing the hardness of my heart, I have reason to believe that I have not been obeying the truth. In fact, I have positive evidence of that in my conscience. You see, the coveting issue has been systemic for me lately. Ephesians 5 and Colossians 3 both show me that this coveting is actually idolatry. It's amazing how our sin is always worse than we think it is. This is when I must remember that the Gospel is so much grander than I can even imagine.

Back to the verse in I Peter: "You have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God." I am comforted by this description of the Word as "living" and "abiding." The living word is able to discern the thoughts and intentions of my heart; it is the power of God to those of us who are being saved. The adjective abiding reassures me that the word will outlast my waywardness; it will outlast my faithfulness; it will outlast my life and all my legacy. My hope is in the living Word that was made flesh and dwelt among us--in the abiding word of his righteousness faithfulness. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men--what a glorious Gospel!

It is highly unlikely that I will be able to blog from the conference, since my evenings are going to be spent catching up on the emails that I miss during days spent on the convention center floor. As I said, I covet your prayers for me and for our team during this time, that "many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many" (I Cor. 1:11).

Service and Equipment

We have prayed this prayer together before, Kellye, and it is again my prayer for you tonight.

"Service and Equipment," from Valley of Vision

Thou, God of my end, Thou hast given me a fixed disposition to go forth and spend my life for thee; if it be thy will let me proceed in it; if not, then revoke my intentions. All I want in life is such circumstances as may best enable me to serve thee in the world; to this end I leave all my concerns in thy hand, but let me not be discouraged, for this hinders my spiritual fervency.

Enable me to undertake some task for thee, for this refreshes and animates my soul, so that I could endure all hardships and labors and willingly suffer for thy name. But, O what a death is it to strive and labor, to be always in a hurry and yet do nothing! Alas, time flies and I am but of little use. O that I could be a flame of fire in thy service, always burning out in one continual blaze.

Fit me for singular usefulness in this world. Fit me to exult in distresses of every kind if they but promote the advancement of thy kingdom. Fit me to quit all hopes of the world’s friendship, and give me a deeper sense of my sinfulness. Fit me to accept as just desert from thee any trial that may befall me. Fit me to be totally resigned to the denial of pleasures I desire and to be content to spend my time with thee. Fit me to pray with a sense of the joy of divine communion, to find all times happy seasons to my soul, to see my own nothingness and wonder that I am allowed to serve thee. Fit me to enter the blessed world where no unclean thing is and to know thee with me always.

"I have tried in my way to be free..."

For those of you who just recently became acquainted with me, you will probably be surprised to know that I enjoy Leonard Cohen's music. His music is certainly not Christian, and it's often quite irreverent. What I enjoy about his music is that it is often self-consciously focused on redemption (or the lack thereof). All great stories are written and songs are sung about this theme. It is, after all, the great quest of human existence.

I woke up with this line from Like a Bird on a Wire in my head: I have tried in my way to be free. I guess that my thoughts about freedom and independence (it is July 4, after all) led somehow to this.

Like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a worm on a hook,
like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee.
If I, if I have been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.
Like a baby, stillborn,
like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
and by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.
I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch,
he said to me, "You must not ask for so much."
And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door,
she cried to me, "Hey, why not ask for more?"

Oh like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.

I perceive two driving themes in this song. 1) The singer feels compelled to seek freedom and 2) he knows that he has not attained it. Cohen’s songs are rife with futility—with the quest for the unattainable. This song, in fact, is almost apologetic; he feels his lack of freedom and the burden of the enslaved world so keenly that he must assert the truth that he has tried. As I listen, I wonder who he really wrote the song for. To whom do you apologize for your slavery? Was he looking in the mirror or staring into the sky? Oh, friend—“It is by him everyone who believes is freed from everything from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses” (Acts 13:39).

In some ways, Americans are the most enslaved people on earth. Take a look around at the interplay between our consumerism and our self-help industry. We will squander almost all of our time and money getting enslaved (to debt, to drugs, etc) and then spend the rest of it trying to get free. We believe one liar after another, and we "save all our ribbons" to placate him. Where is our Isaiah, to ask us pointedly, “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” No, the question is wrong. Isaiah is where he has always been. Where are those with ears to hear?

As an American, I am blessed to enjoy a freedom that most people around the world can only dream about. They write songs and poems and books and even theologies about things that I overlook every day. Their prayers, passion, and service condemn me when I don’t vote or when I turn an apathetic eye toward politics in a thousand subtle ways. And yet we, as Americans, hold political freedom in one hand and cultural slavery in another.

By the grace of God, though, I am what I am; and his grace to me was not without effect! Therefore, as a Christian, I know a few things about freedom. A few passages come to mind but, if I am to join my friends to watch the fireworks, I can only reflect on one of them tonight.

“So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:31-36).

As Americans, surely we cry out that we “have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” But beneath our cries lies a recognition that, though we have tried in our way to be free, we are as free as a worm on a hook. All our glory is temporary; we will not remain in the house forever. I’m not making a political statement here about the end of empire or anything like it. I do believe that God will judge nations in time and that he will judge people in eternity, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. As I listen to Cohen's apology for the impotence of his efforts, I can only say that if the Son, the heir, sets us free, then we will be free.

So, Leonard and Karl and Gustavo and all of the thousands of others who speak about freedom in this life—yes, it is truly a gift and it is worth fighting for. But "it is by him everyone who believes is freed from everything from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses” or by the laws of nations.

The Dawning

"The Dawning" by George Herbert

Awake, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns;
Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth;
Unfold thy forehead, gathered into frowns;
Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth:

Awake, awake, and with a thankful heart His comforts take.
But thou dost still lament, and pine, and cry,
And feel His death, but not His victory.

Arise, sad heart; if thou dost not withstand,
Christ's resurrection thine may be;
Do not by hanging down break from the hand
Which, as it riseth, raiseth thee:

Arise, arise; and with His burial linen drie thine eyes.
Christ left His grave-clothes, that we might, when grief
Draws tears or blood, not want a handkerchief.

Suffering with Christ

It is natural to try and make sense of our suffering. We say with Job, “Cannot my palate discern the cause of my calamity?” (Job 6:30). For those of us who tend toward condemnation, we are likely to believe that we are being punished. It is truly a testament to God’s grace that I have not struggled in this way over the past few months.

By his spirit and through his word, God has enabled me instead to know that this suffering is about him, ultimately, and not about me. Why do I say that my suffering is about God? First, look at the connection between my suffering and the suffering of Christ. Romans 8 says that we are heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ “provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.”

What does it mean to “suffer with him”? It cannot mean that I bear the weight of my sin, for Christ had none to bear himself. In fact, he bore my sin instead--draining the cup of God's wrath so that none was left for me. Condemnation dies here, if I am suffering with Christ. I Peter 3:18 says that he suffered once for sin, that He might bring us to God. His suffering was unique and uniquely effective, accomplishing the restoration of the children of God. My suffering, though it happens with Christ and can never separate me from him (Romans 8:35), cannot be like his suffering in this way.

But watch our Lord in the garden, sweating drops of blood. Hear him cry out, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” Read Philippians 2 and see how he was obedient unto death, "to the glory of God the Father." Christ's suffering was ultimately about God's glory; he suffered for the purposes of another. Then turn back to Isaiah 53 and read the prophecy about Christ, "Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied." Though he submitted his own desires and was obedient to death, Christ was satisfied. He was satisfied. He looked upon the earth and saw that it was good.

Though the Lord uses our suffering to do His work in us, we think too little of his global and eternal purposes and about our own salvation if we believe that the suffering is only about our own sanctification. I realize now that the hope of my sanctification cannot sustain me in suffering; I can hope in nothing less than God himself. Nothing that has its origin and its terminus in my life can bear the weight of my faith. I have tried to assign little errands to my suffering—fix this, mend that—and I walk away disappointed when that area of sanctification proves to still be "in progress."

How do I talk to myself in these times? I remind myself, first and foremost, that the gospel declares that God is now for me in Christ. Romans 8:28 leaves little room for doubt; the design of God, for those who love him and are called according to his purpose, is salvation. What does salvation mean? John Piper writes, in God is the Gospel: "This all-encompassing word, salvation, embraces all the gospel promises, such as the promise of healing, help for the poor, liberation for captives, peace, eternal life, global expanse, and the all-satisfying vision of the glory of God."

The all-satisfying vision of the glory of God. This is the second thing I must remind myself when I am tempted to disappointment. There were moments, in the darkest times of suffering, that the Lord revealed himself to me in new ways. And what can I report? Yes, I was satisfied. I was satisfied in the midst of my suffering, because God is great beyond all measure. Even in my sanctified, glorified body, I will never be great. "Michele! Hear this." God is great. May those who seek him rejoice and be glad in him. May those who love his salvation say forever, "God is great!” (Psalm 70:4).

I had circumscribed salvation in my own mind, believing it to be only or even mainly about the restraint of sin in my own life, and my suffering has brought this fallacy into the light. I was glorying in the gift of sanctification and not in God the giver. I had lost sight of the fact that my suffering brings glory to God, and I had forgotten that my salvation brings me into the presence of his glory. God's glory was not even on my radar, when it should be my hope and my satisfaction. My suffering has reminded me to “rejoice insofar as [I] share Christ's sufferings, that [I] may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed” (I Peter 4:13). I will count it a privilege to suffer with Christ, and I will rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.

"The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him" (Romans 8:16).