Anchor of the Soul

So, it has been quite a while since I last wrote.  My last post was about Mary and this post will be about Mary.  So much has happened between now and then, but as I read over my last post, I realize there a few things that haven't changed--namely who God is.

Here's what changed in Mary's life--today she is at UCLA and nobody knows what is going to happen.  The cancer has spread, her lung has collapsed, she needs a miracle to survive.  Those words hurt to write.  I can't believe it's gotten to this point.  I'd be lying if I said I haven't ever looked to God and said, "Are you sure?  Is this really what's best?"  I "know' all the right answers.  I know God's ways are higher than our own.  I know that we deserve nothing from Him.  I know that the sting of death has been taken away in the cross of Jesus Christ and the pinnacle of suffering that He experienced.  I know those truths and I believe them with all of my heart.  But, it hurts.  So much.  It hurts seeing Mary in so much pain and discomfort, it hurts seeing her children worried about their Mom and if she'll make it, it hurts to see my sister wondering if she'll lose her best friend.  I hurt to see others around me hurting and grieving.  It's difficult to trust that having 2 young kids possibly lose their mom is really what is best.

And in the midst of all that pain and fear, I want to make it clear that I do not doubt God and who He is.  As crazy as this seems, there's this deep-rooted peace in knowing that this isn't the end.  The only hope I can possibly cling to right now is knowing that this life is but a vapor and the afflictions experienced here are momentary; even if it is a lifetime of suffering, it is momentary because heaven awaits. If I didn't have that hope, if I didn't have that assurance for Mary and her kids and her husband and my sister, I would have nothing right now.  Yes it still hurts, but it does not defeat.  It is still uncomfortable, but it is not unbearable.

In America, it is so easy to be comfortable.  It is so easy to pursue a life of ease--as long as everyone is healthy and happy and safe, we are good.  We avoid pain and discomfort and sacrifice because it just doesn't feel good.  But, that is not the life that Christ has called us to.

2 Corinthians 5:1-2 says, "For we know that if the tent, which is our earthly home, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.  For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling."


Sometimes, we don't even groan for heaven; in fact, we groan at the thought of having to leave this earth.  If we aren't longing for heaven because we're just fine here on earth, something is wrong.  Heaven isn't just the upgraded version of a cozy life here on earth, with even more TV shows and better food and comfortable beds.  But, if that is all our pursuit is on this earth, that's what heaven starts to become in our minds.  Instead, it's all about worshiping Jesus--both on the earth and in heaven.  He's the only reason we have breath in our lungs, the only reason our hearts are beating, the only One who can ultimately and completely satisfy. He's what our hearts were created to long for and adore and delight in.  When circumstances around us are uncomfortable, we are forced to come face-to-face with that reality.  

Here's what I do know right now--I long for heaven more in the face of difficulty and suffering than I ever could in the midst of comfort and ease.  I am reminded of the broken earth that I live on, the frailty of human life, my need for something and Someone greater than myself, my need for a hope to rest in that cannot be hindered by circumstances.

"We who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul." Hebrews 6:18-19

This hope is all that holds me.  Nothing else is as sure and steadfast. Without it, I can hope for nothing better than an easy life on earth and when suffering comes into my life or the lives of those around me, I have nothing to cling to.  The question then becomes, not "Why does this suffering have to take place?" but instead, "Why would the God of the universe suffer the most agonizing death in all of human history so that I could have this hope?  Why would He do that for me, a lowly sinner?"

"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.  But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed." 1 Peter 4:12-13

Rejoicing in a hope that is not of this world,
Emily