The last two years have been a joyless famine in my soul.
Spiritually speaking, I have struggled with more downs than ups, more doubts than faith, more bitterness than thankfulness.
Waiting seems to be one trial that God is going to use for all of my life to sanctify me.
As I’ve sown seeds of despair, I’ve reaped a harvest of sadness, unhappiness, bitterness, and anger. Watching the successes and blessings of others has fed my skepticism regarding the Lord’s love for me. In a skewed, flawed manner of thinking, I have somehow come to equate the “no’s” in my life with the measure of God’s love for me. To put it bluntly, I’ve come to believe that God not only doesn’t like me all that much, but He pretty much just tolerates my existence and enjoys telling me “no.”
In a backwards way, this is the prosperity gospel, which is something I have repeatedly renounced when facing it head on.
I’m believing a lie.
How did I get to this place?
Lack of success or physical blessing is NOT a measure of the Lord’s love and care for me. (Repeat to yourself over and over and over.)
Over the last couple of weeks I’ve noticed this destructive pattern in myself of believing the absolute worst about everyone, myself and God included. I’ve put up walls to protect against more hurt. I’ve grown cold. I’ve allowed bitterness to not only rear its ugly head but to full-on set up residence in my heart. It looks like sadness to many people, but it is actually bitterness thinly veiled as such.
I’ve been studying the book of Isaiah for a few weeks, and I’m knee deep in passages regarding judgment on Israel and her surrounding nations. There’s a lot of hard stuff there. But, in chapter 19, there is a verse that has completely grabbed my attention and held it. In the middle of a passage regarding the impending judgment on Egypt (who would actually turn and follow the Lord), we see a characteristic of God that has sort of blown my mind.
“The Lord will strike Egypt, striking but healing; so they will return to the Lord, and He will respond to them and heal them.”
Striking but healing.
This is such a strange phrase. I’ve thought and prayed and written and digested this verse over the last couple of days and it has boggled my mind. But, more importantly, it has reminded me of what I used to believe about the Lord.
He wounds in order to heal.
His judgment is meant to draw us to repentance. It is a kindness! He could leave us in sin. But He doesn’t.
His striking is meant to turn our hearts back to Him.
The striking is bound up in healing. You can’t really separate the two. As a result, Egypt would turn to the Lord, and He would heal them. That right there is purpose in discipline.
Now, sometimes I think there is a striking that the Lord allows that isn’t in respond to sin or disobedience, but rather because He is drawing us to a deeper place of trust. That is purpose in suffering.
I think the struggles I have had over the last couple of years have been a combination of both of these types of striking. I think the Lord has allowed some hard things in order to draw me to a deeper level of trust. In the midst of that He has been faithful to remind me that the thing I am actually longing for is Him. It has been Him all along.
I also believe He has allowed a desert-like barrenness of soul as a result of my hardness of heart. And I think He has graciously persevered me through it, even when I have wanted to give up completely. The common denominator here is always Him.
Around the corner of every disappointment, He waits for me to turn to Him.
At the bottom of every crushed hope, He upholds me and pulls my heart toward hope that does not disappoint.
I am learning that joy is a choice, a daily fight.
So often I want to connect my joy to my circumstances, to what I have, to the prayers that are answered in the manner I deem right.
Therefore, my lack of joy stems from the disappointment in unmet desires, in watching others achieve and receive what I so desperately want, in prayers that are met with silence or “wait” or “no”.
But the thing is….the Lord is the only source of joy.
And I have got to attach myself to Him, or I will never attain it.
So every morning at 6:20, when I brew the coffee and sit under a blanket while the sun rises, I delve deep into the Word, lay open my heart to whatever it is God is saying, and pray for joy to be found in Him and Him only. He strikes with my best interests at heart because if there were no troubles, no striking, no wounding, no discipline, no heart-wrenching moments of despair–I would never need to turn to Him at all. And I would miss the One that my heart ultimately longs the most for.
It’s been Him all along.
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Glenna is the social media manager for Practical Shepherding Women. Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.