One of the things I've often struggled with in these times is that what I want is to be full of joy and delight in God, even in the midst of difficult circumstances, so that (in addition to the joy and grace of being joyful) my kids will see that my God is enough, that my God is delightful, that my God is worth losing everything to have. But what I sometimes am is just fighting: fighting against that fall into the pit of despair, fighting to remember grace, fighting to behold Christ, fighting to delight. And sometimes, I fail. I give in to despair; I despise mercy and strangle my debtor; I lose sight of Christ in the busyness of life; I place my delight in well-behaved kids and things being easy.
I am a fighting, frequently failing, feeble mom. And my kids see it. They won't be the kids who grow up and recount how their mother was always patient, always gentle, always serving with a smile. My son recently recounted to me several occasions over the course of his 5 short years when I had lacked mercy and gentleness in my dealings with him. And though I had forgotten most of them, he remembers. They see. It's not enough to say that the years will wash it all away and they'll forget and rise up and call you blessed anyway, so don't worry about it. Sin and failure don't just disappear with the years.
So is there any hope for me when things are tough and I feel like I can barely hold on? The answer to that question is a resounding YES. When I am struggling, I frequently return to Psalm 63, which starts with David in the wilderness seeking God. His is not a "happy-happy-joy-joy" kind of seeking; it is a thirsting, fainting, dry and weary sort of seeking. It is desperate. And so he meditates on God's power and glory, not his own. He meditates on God's steadfast love, not his own. He sings because God has been his help in the past, and is his shelter in the present. And then he says, "My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me." Years and years ago, as I was reading this psalm and came to that verse, a picture came to my mind of a huge foot standing over a great chasm, and me hanging on to that foot for dear life as I swung out over the endless pit. I was minuscule in comparison to the foot, and my tiny hands could barely cling to the big toe. I was slipping, but doing my best to hold on. And then as the picture came into focus, I suddenly realised that all the time, there was underneath my tiny form a huge, steady hand, holding me up as I clung. I was grasping with all my weak strength, and that had been all I could see, but I was really being held up by that steadfast hand all the while. This is so often a picture of my daily life. I am fighting, barely holding on, seeking to persevere but struggling. And yet, "what is referred to as 'the perseverance of the saints' is in fact the perseverance of the Lord with those he has called".* It is not I who persevere, but God who perseveres with me and makes me persevere.
Our God is not merely the God of the happy, ever-smiling man who even in suffering never asks "why?", of the preacher whose every sermon is a "must listen", of the mother who sings her way through every diaper change. Our God is also the God of Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Job, David, Peter and Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. He is the God of real, struggling, agonizing human beings, and he is the God who holds them steadfastly in the palm of his hand, preserving them till the end, even as they fight to trust.
If my children can't see that I do everything with a smile and a song, then I want them to see that when the going gets tough, I am repenting, I am fighting, I am clinging. I want them to see that my God is worth fighting to trust, worth fighting to delight in, worth seeking even when joy is far away and life looks dismal. I want them to see the God who is so committed to his people that he came down to bear the full weight of their sin in the agony of the cross, who knew crushing darkness so that we could have the hope of glory. I want them to see the God who upholds his grieving, weeping, sinning people. I want them to see the God who carries his people to the end and never lets go, even when they are tempted to. And that is a God who is enough, who is delightful, who is worth losing everything to have.
It's been that kind of week... the kind where our glorious, redeeming God shows his power in my weakness and his grace in my sin. And though that might not make for a pleasant week, it is still cause for rejoicing.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls." (1 Peter 1:3-9)
*(Alec Motyer, The Message Of Exodus
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