Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you (1 Thessalonians 5:18, ESV). This is the directive given by God, to us all, through Paul. Some would ask, “All, Lord? ALL??” How can I be thankful through:
-a miscarriage after 20 weeks?
-a spouse walking out on a marriage?
-death of a child or spouse?
-long-term illness or even a COVID quarantine?
-the spiritual, political and racial unrest of this year?
At such times we feel more like sobbing than praising, more like giving up than giving thanks.
One worldly tactic the Enemy likes to use is the ploy that God’s people should be protected from pain, grief, and suffering—perks in our deal with God, as if salvation weren’t enough! Pain and suffering are definitely side effects of worldly sin. Neither existed in the garden before the Fall, and we are promised a new heaven and earth where both are left behind. As it says in Isaiah 65:17, NIV: “See I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind.” Hallelujah!
C.S. Lewis, one of the great Christian minds of our time, wrote two books on the subject. In The Problem of Pain (1940), Lewis was asked to deal with the “intellectual complexities” surrounding pain and suffering. He poses the idea that it is our very assurance of heaven that causes the dilemma: “In a sense…pain would be no problem unless, side by side with our daily experience of this painful world, we had received what we think a good assurance that ultimate reality is righteous and loving” (p.8).
Add to this mindset the backdrop suffering provides for sanctification: “The human spirit will not even begin to try to surrender self-will as long as all seems to be well with it… God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world” (p.39).
I would agree that these are true, but hardly comforting when in the depths of sorrow. They were not ideas I entertained when, at age 12, cancer took my father from me; nor when I am dealing with the heart-wrenching trials of 2020 in my own family. But the worst part about sorrow—in its many forms, from pain, grief, or conflict—the worst part is the daily battle, the relentless pull that sorrow has on our very being.
Twenty years after writing The Problem with Pain, Lewis penned a journal of his struggles as a grieving widower. A Grief Observed (1961) is the curtain pulled back on Lewis’ very raw and personal experience with pain, loss, and feelings of abandonment. He writes: “Part of every misery is…the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief” (p. 22).
Lewis chronicles what many of us cannot bear to put into words—our doubts and dark feelings when struggling through any kind of loss or uncertainty. He confesses: “The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about [God]. The conclusion I dread is not ‘So there’s no God after all,’ but ‘So this is what God’s really like. Deceive yourself no longer’” (p.18). Thankfully, against the conviction that our Sovereign God has at the very least allowed this painful loss, Lewis concludes that God is good, is motivated by love, and that submitting to Him, “‘all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well’” (p.78).
The best biblical example of prayers denied in the face of pain and hardship, but blessing multiplied, is Paul. Because Paul was kept from going to Rome until in chains, he was able to save the men to whom he was chained. Because he was imprisoned in Rome, the guards heard the gospel. And here is the biggest one: because God prevented Paul from going to Rome on his own timeline, Paul was inspired to write to encourage the church in Rome. Sixteen precious chapters of theology and practice have blessed and informed the body of Christ through the ages.
And what about Paul’s “thorn in his side”? God denied his prayer to have it taken away—3 times!–-stating His grace was sufficient (2 Corinthians 12:9). Because Paul continued in torment, he needed a physician. Enter Luke. What would the New Testament be like without Luke’s gospel and the book of Acts? What would Paul’s last days have been without him? Paul tells Timothy at the end of his second letter that Luke alone is with me. This very thorn brought Paul his most loyal companion, not to mention a life humbly reliant on the God who called him.
I am always amazed when I read about Paul singing praise after being beaten and thrown in prison! It is a testament to the joy that awaits a life lived in this broken world, but for the Lord.
However, I still don’t want sorrow. I don’t like to experience grief. But in this week of Thanksgiving I resolve anew to give thanks in all circumstances—because I cleave to a God who is all at once wise, compassionate, righteous, and just.
In doing this I learn the lesson that C.S. Lewis and so many Biblical examples learned long ago: that we can lament and wail to God--but in the end turn and praise Him for who He is, acknowledging His sovereignty and love for us. As Jeremiah affirms in the midst of his lament, But this I call to mind, and therefore have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:21-23, ESV)
Along with praying without ceasing (1Thess. 5:17), do you know what the Bible tells us to do in all circumstances? In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one (Ephesians 6:16, ESV).
Praise be to God, for His mercies never end!