“God has been good.”
Those words have passed across my lips more than a hundred times over the course of the past month as I’ve described all the “good” things that have happened to me, as I’ve described just how God has “worked everything out” in a quick, nearly seamless way. However, recently I’ve been thinking about that phrase and how I’ve used it… I don’t think I’ve been using it correctly (or anywhere close to correctly for that matter).
I’ve used this phrase in regards to the quick sale of our house, that we were able to make a chunk of money off the sale of our house, the fact that our support is coming in so quickly, that Tracy’s job transferred up to Chicago, that we were able to close on our house despite the difficulties, that we were able to get free temporary housing through Tracy’s company for the two weeks we would have been homeless, etc, etc, etc, etc… God has certainly been good in these ways and we are truly thankful. But as I reflected on the difficulties and hell of the past year and a half I wonder if God hasn’t also been good to me in those instances as well.
Allow me to quickly clarify something: I’m not talking about the good things that occurred within those difficulties, I’m not talking about the positives that occurred around the hellish things—rather I’m wondering if God was good by putting me through this hell… and not in a refinement sort of way either. (Get rid of the traditional Christian way of thinking about pain, suffering, etc.)
The past year and a half has been the hardest period in my life… in fact, just to give you some semblace of a scope of what I’ve been through there are many people that have commented after hearing a taste of our story, “I can’t believe that you’re still in ministry and that you’re still pursuing ministry.” (In fact that was the common thread that ran throughout the CPAC weekend with our assessors who couldn’t believe that not only were we still pursuing ministry but were willing to shell out the massive amount of money for the CPAC weekend—most people are sponsored, whereas we were not.) Yet here I stand on the cusp of a new journey, a new venture in ministry in a tattered and beaten down state. Basically I feel like a shit-faced punching bag that has been tossed aside. Yet somehow I can’t get passed this thought that throughout all of this God has been good to me. Through all the beatings and all the pain, all the sleepless nights and questions, all of the suffering and heartache that I’ve endured at the hands of people I should have been able to trust, somehow I believe and feel that God has been good to me in this way. (Or maybe I’m just a masochist that continually puts himself in this position.)
I’m not really sure how to answer this… I’m not even really sure if there is a solution… and I think I’m okay without one—but maybe God does have a “mean-streak” in him… maybe God does purposely put us through pain and grinds us into the ground. This has certainly been the majority of what I have experienced at the hand of his “church” in my 8 years of ministry… I don’t think the Israelites would disagree… I don’t think Job would disagree… I’m not even sure Paul would disagree…
I only know that the bitterness that I have had to wrestle with daily since the scab was ripped off a week ago and the anger I face every day that I drive past that place while driving my wife to and from work continues to grow and I can’t seem to get my mind off of it. I find myself near tears at the hurt that my heart and soul continue to endure… the loneliness that I’ve come to know since being cut-off and cut-out… I’m fearful of becoming hateful… I’m fearful of allowing this scar to dictate the rest of my life and of the person I may become as a result… I have truly experienced a toxic relationship and I never want to experience one again…
I recently read this post and tears flooded my eyes as I realized I’ve never been close to experiencing anything like this… Why can’t I experience this within the church? Why has the church treated me more like the red-headed step-child than a part of the family? Why is it that I can never seem to experience what I so desperately long for—true community?
I am battered and bruised, torn and ravaged to where I can’t even fully express where I am at… yet, strangely enough, despite all of this I still feel that God has been good to me.
Related posts:
Only time can heal such a wound. Job’s friends sat with him for a week before speaking. You need someone to do that for you. The only thing I can say is that you are not home yet. In Heb 11 they died not yet receiving the promise; the same may apply to us.
Aaron…
I fell like I could have written something like that. Strangely, these bad experiences propel me like when I loose at a computer game. I think maybe they propel you, too. We keep searching for something better or try to make it happen.
Was it Nouwen who warned us that our ideals or dreams of community are the enemy of true community? I think that I have fallen prey to that somewhat in that I don’t trust people very much or tend to like church leaders or people in power.
Maybe as long as you worry about the bitterness scar thing, you are OK.
Maybe you just haven’t had enough time to adequately grieve, for you were severely wounded.
Maybe the church needs a red-headed stepchild, not that you are not as much a child of God as anybody, but that you see things from an a different perspective.
Good post… I really like how you started this one.
I’m not sure how to answer the question either without going to tradition (those who have endured before us) and to Scripture. Should we rely on our thinking and emotions? Or wise counsel from blogs? : )
Everyone has felt pain in ministry and has caused pain to others. At the time our pain feels like we’ve been torn and ravaged, but do we really know what it’s like to be torn and ravaged? Have we truly given our lives?
I’d love to hear how you would interact with Hebrews 12 in light of what you’ve gone through. When I think of the Israelites and their sin, I smugly say “they deserved what they got.” When I think of Job, I think “he shut up pretty quick when God came on the scene.” When I think of me, I think “Surely I’m not like those people. Aren’t I pretty good? Shouldn’t I deserve better than what I’m going through right now?” Then I kind of laugh at myself… Then I break down in tears at how good God has been to me.
Sorry this got more preachy then I intended…