Tag: suffering

Just a Little While

Just a Little While

The human heart yearns for arrival. From the impatient child in the backseat, “Are we there yet?” to the adult wrestling with life’s profound challenges, the question echoes: “Lord, how long until my breakthrough? When will this season of waiting finally end?” This persistent inquiry is not a sign of weakness, but a testament to our innate desire for resolution, for the fulfillment of God’s promises in our lives. Yet, what if our “arrival” is not solely a matter of God’s timing, but also intimately connected to our posture in the pause? To uncover the profound purpose embedded within our periods of anticipation and trial, let’s turn to a passage of immense comfort and challenge: 1 Peter 5:6-11 (NIV). Peter, writing to believers undergoing severe persecution, offers not a quick escape, but a divine framework for flourishing within the furnace of affliction. He writes: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.” This “suffering” Peter speaks of is not merely fleeting discomfort, but a comprehensive term for the trials, hardships, and pains that often accompany a life of faith. It’s the prolonged illness, the chronic financial strain, the fractured relationship, the seemingly unanswered prayer. Our deepest struggle isn’t always the presence of difficulty itself, but the agonizing duration of the wait for its resolution. Yet, within these verses, God Himself offers a transformative lens through which to view our “lingering hardships,” revealing their meaning, purpose, and most importantly, their divinely appointed end.

Peter doesn’t leave us languishing in our impatience; he provides a clear, actionable pathway to navigate the waiting room of life with grace and strength. The first, and perhaps most crucial, step is to humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand.” Humility, in this context, is not self-deprecation, but a profound acknowledgment of God’s absolute sovereignty and our complete dependence on Him. It means releasing our grip on control, relinquishing our prideful attempts to orchestrate our own breakthroughs. We often believe that if we just strategize harder, work longer, or worry more intensely, we can accelerate our arrival. But Peter reminds us that true elevation—”that he may lift you up”—comes in “due time,” God’s perfect time, not our own. This humbling posture leads directly to the second command: “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” Our anxieties are often the direct result of our perceived lack of control. When we humbly acknowledge God’s “mighty hand” over every circumstance, we empower ourselves to genuinely lay down our burdens. The Greek word for “cast” here (epiriptó) implies a decisive, once-and-for-all throwing off. It’s not a polite handing over, but a forceful release. Why can we do this? Because He cares. This isn’t a passive interest; it’s an active, compassionate, fatherly concern that embraces every detail of our lives. When we fully grasp His care, the weight of waiting, though still present, becomes immeasurably lighter. We are suffering the wait, yes, but never without the intimate presence and unwavering support of the Almighty.

As we humble ourselves and cast our anxieties, Peter issues a vital warning: “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” Our periods of waiting and suffering are not merely passive experiences; they are battlegrounds. The adversary, ever vigilant, seeks to exploit our vulnerability, to plant seeds of doubt, despair, and discouragement. He wants us to believe God has forgotten us, that our faith is futile, that our suffering is pointless. Being “alert and of sober mind” means exercising spiritual discernment. It means guarding our thoughts, saturating ourselves with truth, and recognizing the enemy’s insidious tactics. How often do we see individuals, just on the cusp of a breakthrough, succumb to temptation or discouragement, thereby missing their divine appointment? Satan’s objective is to ensure we never arrive at God’s intended destiny. He seeks to derail us, to convince us that our purpose is unattainable. But Peter assures us that “resistance” is possible, by “standing firm in the faith,” and by remembering that our “family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.” We are not alone in this fight; there is strength and solidarity in our shared journey.

This is where the true glory of the passage shines through, offering not just a promise, but a divine guarantee: “And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” The phrase “a little while” is crucial. In the context of eternity, even a lifetime of suffering is but a fleeting moment. God, who is “the God of all grace,” will not allow our suffering to be in vain. He is actively working within our waiting. This promise is rich with transformative verbs: He will restore what is broken, heal what is wounded, and bring back what was lost. He will make you strong as our weakness in suffering becomes the crucible for divine strength, forging resilience we could not have otherwise gained. He will make us firm, establishing us with a solid footing, ensuring our faith is unshakeable; the KJV’s “establish you” perfectly captures this sense of foundational stability. Finally, He will make us steadfast, resolute and unwavering, enabling us to stand firm against future trials. There is, indeed, a profound purpose in waiting. It is in the “agony of the wait” that our character is refined, our faith deepened, and our dependence on God solidified. The Lord, in His infinite wisdom, knows that if success comes too easily, without the crucible of patience and perseverance, we might not appreciate its value, nor possess the inner fortitude to sustain it. He desires for us not fleeting victories, but a “firm footing on life’s triumphs”—an enduring success built on a foundation of tested faith. So, the next time you find yourself asking, “Are we there yet, Lord?” take heart. You are not stuck; you are in a divine process. Humble yourself under His mighty hand, casting every anxiety upon Him because He deeply cares. Be vigilant against the enemy’s schemes, standing firm in the knowledge that you are part of a global family of faith. Trust that the “little while” of your suffering is a purposeful prelude to God’s glorious work of restoration, strengthening, firming, and establishing you. To Him be the power forever and ever. Amen.

A Year of Drought: Navigating Faith in Times of Despair

A Year of Drought: Navigating Faith in Times of Despair

The path of faith rarely has a smooth ascent; more often, it resembles a winding trail through varied terrain punctuated by unexpected valleys and arduous climbs. For those who have walked this path through multiple trials, there inevitably comes a point of profound challenge—a spiritual “wall“ that tests the very foundations of their conviction. While it’s never advisable to lash out in anger at the divine, even the most devout individuals can succumb to moments of profound despair, uttering words they might later regret. A compelling parallel can be drawn between Jeremiah 15 and Jeremiah 17, revealing that even prophets, chosen by God, are not immune to shamefully low points.

In Jeremiah 15:16-18, we witness the prophet Jeremiah in the throes of a deeply personal lament:

“When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, Lord God Almighty. I never sat in the company of revelers, never made merry with them; I sat alone because your hand was on me and you had filled me with indignation. Why is my pain unending and my wound grievous and incurable? You are to me like a deceptive brook, like a spring that fails.” (NIV)

Jeremiah’s words are not a thoughtless outburst but the culmination of intense self-examination. He has taken stock of his life, dedication, and perceived righteousness, concluding that he suffers despite his faithfulness. He asserts that he has diligently fulfilled God’s commands, declaring, “I bear your name.” He emphasizes his unwavering commitment, stating that he avoided sinful company and steadfastly detested what grieved the Lord. Yet, despite obedience, his struggle seems endless, his pain unaddressed.

The core of Jeremiah’s grievance stems from a profound internal despair. His agony arises from the paradox of living in accordance with God’s will while simultaneously experiencing relentless discomfort and suffering. So consumed by frustration is Jeremiah that he essentially accuses God of being a deceiver. The latter part of verse 18 is particularly striking: “You are to me like a deceptive brook, like a spring that fails.“ In his raw honesty, Jeremiah feels as though God has lied to him, that the divine promise has proven hollow. While steeped in self-pity, this outburst reflects the profound frustration of doing what is right yet seemingly failing at every turn. Thankfully, the Lord’s patience is vast; He is not easily offended by our ignorant cries. Jeremiah is enduring a “year of drought,” caught in Judah’s collective judgment and chastisement, even though he bears no personal guilt. The wrath meant for the many has enveloped him, pushing him to the brink.

When overwhelmed by frustration, our words often lack wisdom. These are the moments when we need a divine intervention, a shaking that exposes our limited understanding. In Jeremiah 17:7-8, the Lord provides His profound response:

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” (NIV)

While Jeremiah fixates on God as a “deceptive brook,” an unreliable source that occasionally dries up, God shifts the focus to Jeremiah’s capacity to stand firm during a time of drought. For those who place their trust in the Lord, they will not lose heart when trials inevitably arise in their service. Jeremiah doesn’t yet grasp a profound truth: God allows trees to experience droughts precisely to strengthen their roots, enabling them to endure even more difficult times ahead.

From a Christian perspective, Jeremiah’s lamentation in chapter 15 is a remarkably raw and honest expression of prophetic suffering. It vividly illustrates the inherent tension between a prophet’s unwavering faithfulness and the often-harsh realities of their divine calling. Jeremiah, often called the “weeping prophet,” embodies the deep emotional toll that prophetic ministry can exact. His feelings of abandonment and perceived deception by God are not isolated incidents in biblical literature; similar sentiments resonate in the Psalms (e.g., Psalm 22) and even echo in the words of Jesus on the cross. This profound biblical honesty underscores a vital truth: Faith is not a perpetual euphoria but frequently involves wrestling with doubt, pain, and the sometimes unsettling sense of divine absence.

However, the powerful juxtaposition with Jeremiah 17:7-8 offers a crucial theological corrective and a deeper understanding of God’s intricate ways. The evocative imagery of the tree planted by the water serves as a profound metaphor for steadfast faith. The “year of drought” is not, in God’s economy, a sign of His abandonment or deception, but rather a divinely appointed opportunity for deeper reliance on Him. The roots of the tree, representing our trust and dependence, are compelled to grow deeper into the earth in search of sustenance when surface-level resources are scarce. This often painful process, far from being punitive, ultimately leads to greater resilience and fruitfulness.

In essence, God is teaching Jeremiah—and, by extension, us—that true blessedness does not lie in the absence of hardship but in the unwavering trust in God’s faithfulness through hardship. It serves as a powerful reminder that even when God’s presence feels as unreliable as a “deceptive brook,” His ultimate character is that of a never-failing spring. The drought, therefore, transforms into a divinely ordained process of spiritual formation, meticulously designed to strengthen our faith and produce lasting spiritual fruit. This profound perspective directly challenges the simplistic notion that righteousness guarantees an easy or comfortable life; instead, it promises that righteousness, when deeply rooted in trust, equips us to thrive despite adversity.