(written one year after the birth of our youngest daughter who was diagnosed with Trisomy 18)
Instant Maturity. This is often what I imagine when I hear the words, “the trying of your faith produces steadfastness.” When I’ve heard of the mind-bending faith of people walking through deep waters, it has sounded so effortless, so immediate. When I hear of someone who lost a child, received a terminal diagnosis, or became a young widow, I imagine they join the League of Super Suffers. When I hear them say that they are praising God and know that He is good, it seems as if they’ve discovered the box with the level-up star and unlocked the skill of Super Faith…I am sure that God can and does work in some people’s hearts in instant and inexplicable ways like that, but I will say that this has not been my experience.
I haven’t miraculously found myself adapting to my circumstances with ease. I’m more like Letta learning the piano; she wants to play only the songs she knows, the ones she can play without mistakes. That’s been me. I want to walk the easy path, the one where I’ve been before, the one where I liked how I handled the terrain. But I know that if Letta isn’t making mistakes, she isn’t being challenged, and if she isn’t being challenged, she isn’t learning. This cycle has been true for me too.
I have known God’s peace that surpasses all understanding, but often I’ve found it through periods of painstaking refining. I’ve found myself inside the picture of metal melted down with the impurities rising to the top. I’ve been through fire, and I’ve found sin and weakness staring up at me. I’ve been ugly. I’ve been harder to love. More often on edge. Stretched and straining and struggling to hold on to the truth. I’ve had to run to my Father with my questions and failures. I’ve seen Him stretch me, and give me strength, and stretch me again, even further.
It hasn’t been pretty. I haven’t always handled the stretching with grace. I have cried and screamed and wondered how I could take another breath. And still, He is there. Right there with me. He has not left me or forsaken me. He has seen me and known me and carried me.
I have not found instant maturity, but I have found the gentle hand of my Father guiding me to a better way. Better than my self-reliance and pride. Better than wishing away the pain. By His grace He has taught me and shown me more of Himself. I’ve confessed and repented and learned. And I am so thankful. I am thankful for this season because I have seen Him more. Known Him better. Realized so so very desperately how much I need Him. And I don’t ever want to forget. I don’t ever want to go back. I am thankful for the fire.