Becoming a Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I read a story that connected. A visiting speaker stood in front of a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing. After he spoke, an elder came up and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal with those ugly things from his past. And yes, he was starting to become a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, or a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs.

Managing these awful things for the Kingdom of God is now our ministry.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us; we have been hurt, or we’ve wounded others by our sinfulness.

Are you a good steward of who you are? Maybe it’s a trauma, a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems.

I believe that you’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and fully redeems it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us. He uses our pain to touch others deeply.

But Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that takes place inside us.

It really is his work, not ours. It’s then we finally understand. It’s then we become the broken healers that God can finally use.

And it’s then we can finally say: “The light has truly overcome the dark.

Becoming a steward of our pain is His doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that cripple and destroy. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll meet those who are waiting to hear our story. They’re walking through terrible pain and they don’t know what to do.

We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

To every believer still struggling about the sin of the past or sickness of the present–keep turning it over to Him. He will make it into something quite wonderful.

When There’s No Exit: Psalm 88

  Lord, God of my salvation,
    I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
    incline your ear to my cry!
For my soul is full of troubles,
    and my life draws near to Sheol.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
    I am a man who has no strength,
like one set loose among the dead,
    like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
    for they are cut off from your hand.
You have put me in the depths of the pit,
    in the regions dark and deep.

Psalm 88:1-6, ESV

I definitely needed this Psalm today. Yesterday I went to the doctor and was blindsided by news that really isn’t good, at all.  Of course, I also have this ongoing struggle with depression.  Today I feel like I’m running a marathon with ‘leg weights’ on. 

This particular Psalm is radically different than the others. 

This Psalm has no kind words, and no praise to God for deliverance.  It is a singularly sad song.  Imagine if you will, a huge stone fortress in the mountains.  Every room has a door, and every room a window.  All except one.  No light enters this room.  There is no entrance or exit, no way to get free.  Psalm 88 describes living that torturous experience.

I like my Psalms to be strengthening or encouraging. 

But then comes this one!  Life unravels and frays.  Everything gets confusing. Life comes apart.  The thought of being one who is irretrievably lost and damned, it saturates my thinking.  The despair is beyond belief, I have no words to describe its special variety of darkness. 

Anyone who has walked into this hell will understand.

Am I ‘less’ a Christian because of this vicious despair?  Some would say so.  The writer in verse 1-2, calls out to God.  (I guess this what you are supposed to do).  There is a sense of consistency in his cry.  In verses 3-5, we see him evaluating his position.  Again, there is a underground current of despair. 

There is simply no help, no deliverance for him.

It’s a bitter and painful place to be.  There are no explanations why life has gotten so nasty and bitter and out-of-control.  But one thing that Psalm 88 does quite well, it strips you of any dignity that you have left. 

(Does this make any sense at all?)

There is so much embedded in the book of Psalms.  Comfort, faith, victory and hope are what we find. But in Ps. 88, we find a black pearl, the only one of its kind.  Somehow, we dare not leave it behind, just because we don’t understand it. 

I’m convinced that it has tremendous power to the disciple who is in endless pain.  Just vocalizing this Psalm does something to us.  These real words help.  This Psalm is ours. 

God has provided it for us.

 

Life Can Be Brutal

“In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,”

1 Peter 1:6, ESV

So much has been written already from the perspective of suffering Christians.  We live in a painful world; there are plenty of cuts and bruises to go around.  Yet each blow we take is disturbing.  I’ve met so many who have been unfairly brutalized and must walk through mental or physical disabilities.

Some things are just plain brutal.

We may not fully understand this, but suffering provides us with incredible advantages and blessings.  The bruises which hurt us, can also bring us wisdom. We learn many things, but only when we hurt. The challenge is not to waste our sorrows.

Suffering offers us great benefits:

  1. Suffering verifies our faith (1 Pet. 1:6-7).
  2. Suffering confirms our sonship (Heb. 12:5-8).
  3. Suffering produces endurance (James 1:2-4; 1 Pet. 5:10).
  4. Suffering teaches us to hate sin (John 11:33).
  5. Suffering promotes self-evaluation.
  6. Suffering clarifies our priorities (Dt. 6:10-13).
  7. Suffering identifies us with Christ (2 Tim. 3:12; 1 Thes. 2:14-15; Gal. 6:17; Phil. 3:10).
  8. Suffering can encourage other believers (1 Thes. 1:6-7; Phil. 1:14).
  9. Suffering can benefit unbelievers (Acts 16:16-34).
  10. Suffering enables us to help others (Heb. 4:15-16).

 -John MacArthur

If you have ever been attacked, it can change you.  Spiritually, our vision clears and we will no longer be short-sighted people.  We are now able to see things much clearer and with more discernment and wisdom.  But the choice today is yours to make.

Will you make suffering work for you?

Joni Eareckson Tada

The pain is real. No question about it. However, I honestly beg of you to make this transaction with the Holy Spirit.  Exchange your anger and fear and doubt– for peace and confidence and joy. 

God will use your pain to bless others.

bry-signat (1)

 

 

Cutting a Rose (Death)

There’s been a death in my family. A young man just 24 years old passed a week ago. He was the only child of my aunt and uncle, and they are rightfully devastated. The whole thing is pain on steroids–as awful as it gets. Shock and grief is saturating our family.

We’re all asking why.

A young man who’s just learning how to live is gone. He was in the springtime of his life. His faith in Jesus was just beginning, and he was starting to sort things out, just like we all do. He is gone, but we’ll meet him again.

I wonder if the shock will ever wear off. I suppose it will, but it will come little by little. Jesus must have time to heal and hold in the meantime. He promised us.

I find my words to his mom and dad are nothing more than Teflon. They don’t stick, and maybe they even hurt.

Grief on this level defies words of human comfort and consolation. I am frustrated to counsel pain on this level. I’m ashamed when I do. I keep my mouth shut and that’s not easy for me.

There’s terrible guilt, anger and isolation.

The Holy Spirit is strongly emphasizing prayer now. I realize that only He can heal, guiding their suffering and healing to an outcome they can’t see. I know, I am certain that Jesus will come and touch his parents, but perhaps our intercession is what it will take to make this happen.

We must stand against Satan and push him away.

In the olden days, medicine was dispensed in powder form, not pills. The pharmacist would measure out a powder to give to the sick. In a sense, this is what God does. He carefully gives what is needed and not a grain more than necessary. I believe this.

Please don’t condemn yourself for speaking trite and inadequate words. You must rest in God’s work now, and realize that only He can heal and comfort pain and anger on this level. Job’s friends were at their best when they said nothing.

Sometimes all you can do is pray fervently. And that is enough.

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Revelation 21:7