family catch-up

Steve turned 45 - or is that 46? - today. I think it's 46. Yup, definitely 46. My parents have given us a gift of a couple of nights away. Yay!

I am ... well, I'm not sure, to be honest! A bit worn out. Ready for a couple of days off. It's been a big week, with a few changes made (see Ben below).

Lizzy is cleaning up her school right now: it's community service day. Don't remember doing that when I was a teenager! But I went to a fancy schmancy school, and maybe we didn't have to do that stuff. ;)

Ben has been given a new policy by his paediatrician and his mum, to get him back into normal life: he goes to school every day, even with a really bad headache. He wasn't impressed. But he had a wonderful day at school yesterday. I'm praying for him today, because it looks like being a tough one. [Update: He's home, and it was a good day, so it looks like we're on the right track.]

Thomas didn't bring any show-and-tell to school this morning. He's "talking to the class" instead, telling them about his exciting weekend: Grandma! And Dad's birthday celebration coming up!

Andy is saving his reflections on Dad's birthday for journal writing next Monday. He told me he will write, "We didn't celebrate it last Friday because we were too busy (for which read: Mum and Dad selfishly went out on their own). But we will celebrate it today."

Gluten free sponge cake and all.

God’s gifts in suffering (4) Suffering deepens our knowledge of God

For I know that the Lord is great,
and that our Lord is above all gods.
Whatever the Lord pleases, he does,
in heaven and on earth,
in the seas and all deeps. (Psalm 135:5,6)

I write this post with a heavy heart, because we are neck-deep in this particular season of suffering. It’s not showing any signs of letting up, at least for now. It’s only bearable because God no longer seems like a stranger.

Of all the effects of suffering, this is one of the most disquieting: the God I meet in suffering is different from the God I thought I knew. It’s as if you turn to a friend and catch an expression on their face that you never expected to see there. Your wife of twenty years does something so completely out of character that you wonder if you really know her. Your father turns out to be fundamentally different to the man you loved and respected all these years.

The fault, of course, doesn’t lie with God. It never did. It’s that we live with unconscious assumptions about God and his dealings towards us, beliefs that would probably horrify us if we pulled them into the light (“I am exempt.” “God will do what I ask.” “That would never happen to me.”). So we leave our assumptions hidden and unquestioned, where they lend us a kind of empty comfort. The worst will never come, because… (here we fill in our own A, B and C).

This can happen even if we are well-prepared, our theology of suffering carefully laid down. In my early 20s, I read How Long O Lord, because we were told that those who read this book would be ready for suffering when it came. There was great truth in that. I still repeat this lesson to those younger than me. I don’t know how I would have weathered this storm without a strong doctrine of God’s sovereignty and goodness in suffering. But it doesn’t matter how prepared you are, suffering always comes as a surprise.

The storm front approaches, but you don’t see it coming. The world crumbles, the earth shakes, and you cry out in shock. Cracks appear in your theology. Suffering forces its way in and wedges them apart. They grow bigger and bigger, until your view of God threatens to collapse like a house on the sand. Suffering shows you the weak points. It enlarges them and says, “There!”.

I’m sure the weak points are different for everyone, but in my case, as I watch my son trudge through days of pain, it doesn’t take long to realise there’s something odd about my view of God’s providence. I can’t understand why medicine helps but God, it seems, doesn’t. Is it that he can’t? Or that he won’t? I know it’s not the first, but I can’t quite get my head around the second.

My son’s doctors, on the other hand, seem eager to help. They can’t do much, but what they can do, they do. It’s the same with the people around me. So why does God seem so unwilling? Why is he depending on medicine, when he could heal with a single thought? At some level, a level I barely dare to acknowledge, I ask, “Doesn’t he want to? Is he powerless? Does he care?”

So I turn to the same place I turned to all those years ago. I open How Long O Lord and struggle through those last, difficult chapters on God’s providence. I begin to read Joni Tada Eareckson and Stephen Estes’ When God Weeps, and Paul Grimmond’s Suffering Well. I search the Scriptures, and painstakingly rebuild my theology, brick by brick, starting with these words by Don Carson:

A miracle is not an instance of God doing something for a change; it is an instance of God doing something out of the ordinary. That God normally operates the universe consistently makes science possible; that he does not always do so ought to keep science humble.1

An odd paragraph to bring so much comfort; but comfort me it does. I begin to see that the God who made and sustains the universe works through medicine as well as what we call “miracles”: they are both gifts direct from his hands. Health slowly and painstakingly regained, or never regained at all, is as much an indication of his love as instant healing. What he wants to do in us may take time and hardship. His plans for us are bigger and better than the ones we make for ourselves.

The God I am getting to know is no cheap-and-easy vending machine: put in a dollar, get out a chocolate bar. He’s our Father, wise beyond knowing. His mercy is severe and his love relentless. He may never give us what we ask for, and we may never know why; but this God, who gave his only Son to die for us, who knows suffering from the inside out, can be trusted to be just and loving and good. As my knowledge of him deepens, he no longer seems like a stranger. I run into his arms and find comfort and strength and a secure refuge (Ps 46:1).

The God I meet in suffering isn’t the God I thought I knew. He’s better.


1. Don Carson, How Long O Lord, page 217.

online meanderings

Theology and the non-intellectual (me) - Even when we cook or clean, "We are all theologians in one respect or another. The question remains: what kind of theologians are we?"

Recharging emotional batteries and Some things I'm doing I wasn't doing a month ago - Excellent suggestions for slowing down, using the morning, and keeping a journal.

16 ways I judge you - After reading this, you'll be judging yourself - helpfully.

Jesus loves the scantily clad - When the length of a skirt becomes legalism.

Pakistan and Afghanistan, North Korea - Eye-opening books about hard places.

Torn to heal - Mike Leake: why I wrote a book on suffering. Looks good.

CS Lewis helped me become alive to life. To look at the sunrise and say with an amazed smile, “God did it again!” John Piper

I find that there are three levels of clarity. When I only think about something, my thoughts are embryonic and muddled. When I speak about it, my thoughts become clearer, though not always. When I write about it, I jump to a new level of clarity. Ed Welch

My aim here at the blog: to write because I enjoy it and because I have something I want to say: Jesus saved me and I love Him and I want you to love Him too. Lisa Spence

To see more links and quotes, click here (Facebook) or here (Twitter).

Couch to 5K: take 2

Week 6
There are three different workouts for this week. They are as follows:

Workout 1: a brisk 5-minute walk, then 5 minutes of running, 3 minutes of walking, 8 minutes of running, 3 minutes of walking, 5 minutes of running.

Workout 2: a brisk 5-minute walk, then 10 minutes of running, 3 minutes of walking, 10 minutes of running.

Workout 3: a brisk 5-minute walk, then 25 minutes of running with no walking.

I walk out the door into Autumn. The air is nose-shrivelling cold, the sun warm, my favourite kind of day. Yellow leaves drift past. Sara Groves sings Why it matters into my earbuds, her words of parks and memorials somehow suited to the day.

I raise my face to the tree tops, and think: yes, this is it. Today, I can do this.

I'm walking. I'm running. Running around the park. Running back. And back again. This 25 minute run eats up a lot of ground. By the end, I'm avoiding any little rise in the ground, going the long, flat way around. Not. Sure. I. Can. Make. It.

Just as I pick up my iPhone to check if I can stop - now, please now! - the annoyingly calm voice of the app says, "Well done! You've made it!".

For the umpteenth time, I think, "It's all very well for you, Miss Virtual Trainer, you're not the one doing the running." (Pet hate: that pert little "You're half-way there!". "Only half-way?!", my lungs and legs scream.)

I walk to the lake, stretch every leg muscle I can identify, then sit on a rock and watch a flock of cockatiels fight over a tree full of gumnuts. The nuts don't look particularly tasty to me, all dry and brown, but the cockatiels rip them to shreds and eat whatever's inside.

Time to go home. My muscles are a little achy, but that's to be expected. My knees are, surprisingly, without twinges of any kind. And I'm triumphant - and relieved.

And I realise:

• you can work through a week more slowly if your body demands it, and still reach your goal.
• I just bought a second knee-brace, and my knees feel better this way. I also think it helps that I'm not jogging quite as many times a week. Recently, it's been one longer jog and one broken-up jog with my daughter.
• you shouldn't wear woollen socks on a run, cold day or not. My feet are soon begging for air.
• you shouldn't have a hot drink before you run. Not unless you want to find out what it's like to run with a full bladder. Uncomfortable.

It's the end of week 6, take 2 - or 3 - or, perhaps, 4 - and I did it! My first 25 minute run!


How did you find week 6 of Couch to 5K?

When God Weeps - part 3 - the "how" of suffering

I have a friend who suffers from chronic pain. She's had it most of her life, since an accident as a teenager. Of all the books she's read on suffering, the one she loves most is Joni Eareckson Tada and Stephen Estes' When God Weeps.

There's no higher recommendation than that!

Now that I've finished, what do I think of When God Weeps? I can't imagine a better book to give those who are in the middle of suffering, once they have reached a point where they are able to reflect on things again.

My friend and I agree that the best thing about When God Weeps is the way it moves between the theological and the experiential. It helps that it's written by Joni, deeply experienced in long-term suffering; and Stephen Estes, a capable theologian. Both write with great sympathy and with a colourful, lively style, and Estes writes with clear logic.

I don't agree with every sentence. I'm a bit hesitant about statements like this - "God may not initiate all our trials - but by the time they reach us, they are his will for us" (does this really express God's absolute sovereignty in all things?) - but I appreciate the tension between God's sovereignty and human responsibility that Estes is trying to uphold. And he does say, "No trial reaches us apart from God's explicit decree". So my hesitations are slight.

It was an absolute treat reading the third and final section. It's called "How can I hang on?", and it's about how to suffer well. There are four chapters, sometimes surprising in their content:

• Cry of the soul - Wise words about anger at God, how it can lead to bitterness, and where it really belongs: in honest expression to God, so that it moves us, not away from him, but towards him. Here we may not find answers, but we will find his comforting arms.
• Gaining contentment - I like Joni's "arithmetic of contentment": when we suffer, we subtract our wants so our desires equal our circumstances, and gain what is of far greater value: Christ's sufficiency in our need, the joy of knowing God, and the advancement of his kingdom.
• Suffering gone malignant - I wasn't expecting a chapter on hell in a book on suffering, yet it really does belong here. Estes reminds us why hell is necessary, because it's God's answer to both terrible injustice and the evil at the heart of "good" people. It also explains why Christians suffer, because "hell's splashover" prepares us for eternity and moves us to reach out to others.
• Suffering Gone - This was perhaps the highlight of the book for me. Every word spoke to my need. In suffering we need a future perspective (so hard when pain is present!). We need to remember that heaven is a Person, not just a place, that it is so much more than we can imagine, and that the way we bear suffering now will win us a rich reward in eternity. 

By the end of When God Weeps I was in tears. A bit embarrassing since I was in public at the time!

We will all suffer, so we all need books like When God Weeps. I recommend it highly, both for those who haven't suffered greatly yet and for those who are suffering.

the sea of this world

The sea of this world interrupts our course, even although we already see where we are headed … Therefore, cling to Christ … He became the one, on which the weak may be borne, and cross the sea of this world and reach their native country; where there will be no need of a ship, for no sea is crossed.

Augustine of Hippo (Tractate 2 on John 6)

(With thanks to my friend Andrew.)

Christian books I'd like to read in 2013

It's been a while since I wrote about the books I want to read! Looking at last year's list, I read a few books that aren't on the list, and listed a couple that I didn't read. So this won't be accurate.

But since I have a pile of books on my shelf just begging to be read, and since I've got a clear reading plan - something that happens, oh, about once a year - I thought it was time to share this year's list with you. Better late than never!

Last year, the theme of my reading was "marriage" and "sharing your faith". This year, it's "suffering". Perhaps for obvious reasons. But not quite so obvious, because Ben has been ill for 3 years now, and Lizzy struggled a few years before that. It's been a long road. So why now?

Because my grief and sorrow have reached the point where, instead of flinging accusations at God, begging for healing (well, I'm still doing that, but with more trust in the answer he gives), and giving way to despair, he is teaching me to trust and rejoice through this time. Call it the "acceptance" stage of grief - call it what you will! - but my emotions are more settled. This trial is still hard, so hard. But God is near, and he is good.

So I now have the brain space to reflect on suffering. Everyone processes suffering differently, but I like to think through things. I want the answers God's word gives. I want to share what I learn. I'm thinking of writing an article about a few books on suffering later this year. Not sure if that will happen! But I'll read some all the same, God willing.

Books on suffering aren't the only ones on my list. And, of course, I'll keep reading novels of all kinds, because that's what I do to relax.

So here they are, the Christian books I'd like to read in 2013. (I'd love to see your list!)

Late last year, I read missionary Naomi Reed's Heading Home. I loved it, but wasn't really in the state of mind to absorb it, so I'd like to re-read it. Beautiful reflections on our true home.

Two years on, and, on my mornings off, I'm still working my way slowly and happily through King's Cross (it's now published as Jesus is the King).

Now for books on suffering. A long list, in reading order. I may not make it to the last couple. I recently finished Joni Eareckson Tada and Stephen Estes' wonderful When God Weeps.

I am currently reading Paul Grimmond's Suffering Well. I highly recommend it! A clear, bracing, strengthening read.

I'm looking forward to reading Nancy Guthrie's Holding on to Hope. She's a great author, so biblical and encouraging.

Don Carson's How Long O Lord deserves a re-read. There's no better book on suffering.

A friend recently recommended and reminded me of the existence of Philip Yancey's Where is God When It Hurts. I'm guessing it's experiential in tone.

I haven't read John Dixon's If I were God, I'd end all the pain, but I enjoy his books. I assume this will be apologetic in tone.

A book about doubt, something I battle and have been wanting to read about for some time: Os Guinness' God in the Dark. 

A very practical little book on reading the Bible with people: David Helm's One to One. I led a seminar on this recently.

A book to read with my friend Jane, about living life as a human: Zack Eswine's Sensing Jesus. I read the first chapter and enjoyed the rich language and all-too-familiar reflections on burnout, but I have no idea what this will be like.

A book about union with Christ, something I need to think about for some talks on Colossians: Rory Shiner's One Forever.

A book to give a friend, recommended by my friend Julie-anne: Bill Medley's Religion is for Fools.

A book about writing, recommended by my friend Jenny, so far hilarious and helpful: Douglas Wilson's Wordsmithy.

Two manuals I'm working through with women I'm training: Matthias Media's The Course of Your Life (it's my first time through this, and it's excellent);

and Growth Groups (an old favourite).

A book I'm still reading, slowly but surely, with my daughter Lizzy (and mostly, but not always, agreeing with): Carolyn Mahaney's Girl Talk.

What are you reading in 2013?

no new plugholes around here

Thomas: "Mum, you got a new plughole!"

Me: "No I didn't!"

Thomas: "Yes you did, look!"

Me: "No I didn't!"

Andy: "It's the same plughole, it's just clean, Thomas."

Ouch!

Couch to 5K: loud was the rejoicing

Just did my first ever 25 minute run for Couch to 5K. And my knees are fine! Woo-hoo! I can't quite believe it!

(I'll let you know how it went next week.)

online meanderings

Time travel: the key to holiness - I went back for a second look at this one. Wow!

Lashing out at God in prayer - Is it ever proper to express anger against God? "We need to notice not just the complaints the biblical saints sometimes make, but the responses God gives. It is never proper to accuse God of wrongdoing."

Depression and catastrophizing - A really good set of guidelines. (Use of the Bible: not quite so good.)

Care for your brothers and sisters in Christ, in a crisis and when it's chronic. Towards the end of this post, you'll find two helpful lists to prod you into compassion.

When your kids get home from school, HALT and It's not all about ME-time - Two good posts for mums.

On writing well - 4 very helpful suggestions and some choice quotes. The first one made me Laugh Out Loud.

Book reviews: A call to spiritual reformation and A praying life - My two favourite books on prayer, reviewed by Wendy.

Who is publishing good books today? - There you are, Matthias Media! There you are, Good Book Company! Good to see these UK and Aussie publishers on Challies' list.

If you’re struggling with legalism, don’t fight it by quitting your quiet times. Trillia Newbell

I must remember God's sovereignty is not separate from His other attributes nor does it trump them. Yes, He is sovereign but He is also good. And loving. And wise. He doesn’t lay aside His love in order to exercise His sovereign authority nor vice versa. When faced with what I do not know, I can cling to what I do know: God is good. He bears our sorrows. There is future glory and the promise of heaven. Lisa Spence

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