Is my child suffering because of something I've done?
One reason among many that our child’s serious illness sends us into a tailspin is because we worry that we may have done—or not done—something that caused the illness. We wonder, “Did we unwittingly contribute to our child’s cancer by something we did (living in a house with mold in the basement) or didn’t do (immediately take our child to the doctor at the first onset of symptoms)? Questions like these can inflict endless mental agony on conscientious parents. No parents provide flawless care of their children. But many if not most parents go well beyond the call of duty in caring for their children. The problem is not the lack of parental care. The problem is that so much happens in life that is beyond the control of parents. Part of why unexpected illness is so devastating is it provides irrefutable evidence that not even the most conscientious parents can guarantee the health and safety of their children. Parents often live with the “control” illusion, thinking if they can just properly control the environment of their children all will be well. Unexpected, serious illness in our children explodes this myth of control forever. We cannot make our lives or the lives of our children accident proof, loss proof, or suffering proof. With no warning, and for no apparent reason sometimes disease and disaster come, reminding us that on this earth, life is incredibly fragile even for the best, smartest, and strongest among us. Thousands of years ago the prophet Isaiah confirmed this hard truth when he compared human beings to grass and flowers that wilt quickly in the wind (see Isaiah 40:6-7). The wonder is not that some of us perish prematurely, but that most of us thrive as long as we do.
What am I supposed to learn from this heartache?
Few parents welcome their child’s illness as a welcome opportunity to learn and grow. Most if not all parents would eagerly trade this growth opportunity for the restored health of their child. But, you can choose to use your child’s illness as a significant opportunity for your spiritual growth. The reason is this: God never wills our suffering. But God can use our suffering for good in a number of amazing ways. For example, God can use our suffering to draw us closer to Christ. C.S. Lewis, who lost his wife to cancer, once wrote, “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.” Of course, suffering can also have the opposite effect of alienating us from Christ. But many, many otherwise self-sufficient people have been brought closer to Christ by unexpected crises like the illness of a child. God can also use suffering to bring us closer to Christian maturity. The author of Hebrews notes that even Jesus grew through his suffering (Hebrews 5:8), and that while no discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful, suffering can eventually produce a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it (Hebrews 12:11). A case in point is the Apostle Paul. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 1 that he and his colleagues underwent such tribulation in ministry that they despaired of life itself (v. 8). But Paul also offers that he learned some important lessons in the process: 1) that as our suffering increases, so does the corresponding comfort of God (v. 5); 2) that our suffering uniquely equips us to help and serve others who are suffering in similar ways (v. 4); and 3) that when push comes to shove, we cannot depend on ourselves and our own devices, but God alone (v. 9). We also learn that God can use our suffering to bring about his good purposes. Paul tells us that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). This famous verse has been misinterpreted to make God the author of evil and suffering. But it unquestionably teaches that God can and does take all things—even evil things—and uses it for his purpose. In the Old Testament we read about the trials and tribulations of Joseph (Genesis 37-50), who was mistreated by his brothers, nearly killed, sold into slavery, and later imprisoned. Eventually Joseph prospered and had the opportunity to speak to his brothers about his suffering. “You intended to harm me,” said Joseph, “but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” In the New Testament, of course, God performs an even greater feat, transforming the crucifixion of Jesus into an opportunity to save the world from sin and death. Often, we cannot discern God’s redemptive purpose in the moment. But later, with the benefit of hindsight, we can see how God was accomplishing unexpectedly great things through what appears to be nothing more than the tangled, tragic mess of our suffering.
If I pray hard enough and have enough faith, will my child be cured?
Nobody can deny that according to scripture God is capable of healing. Scores of references to healing appear in both the Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament, both Elijah and Elisha raise dead people to new life. In the New Testament, almost twenty-five percent of the gospel deals with the healing ministry of Jesus. Jesus’ disciples and the Apostle Paul extend Jesus’ ministry with an amazing variety of healings, resuscitations, and exorcisms. Healing is viewed as such a normal activity in the early church that James, the half-brother of Jesus, instructs the elders of the church to pray over (the sick) and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make them well; the Lord will raise them up (James 5:14-15. And yet, even in Jesus’ day not all were healed. On the very day that Jesus brought a young girl back to life, many other adults and children in Israel died. Jesus didn’t heal everybody. He didn’t even save himself from death. And the same Paul who healed and raised from the dead repeatedly begged God to deliver him from an undefined illness, his “thorn in the flesh,” and God never did. A key observation—if healing served God’s ultimate Kingdom purposes, it happened. If not, it didn’t. For all its miracles, the biblical record doesn’t support a theology that says, “If you just pray hard enough, or with enough faith, you will be healed.” Miraculous healings still occur in our day, of course. But they are admittedly few and far between. In his book, Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference?, Phil Yancey offers the following observations: most of our physical healing takes place through systems of healing God builds into our bodies. Physician Paul Brand says those who pray for the sick should first thank God for the remarkable agents of healing he designed into the body. We should pray that God would use these built-in healing agents, along with modern medicines and procedures, to facilitate healing. Miraculous healings do occasionally occur. Oncologists admit this. But they will also add that spontaneous healings are rare. We should pray fervently and persistently for physical healing, but never assume that we are entitled to it. Contrary to some, healing is never guaranteed. We are guaranteed God’s presence in the face of suffering. God will not abandon us in our time of need. Paul Claudel writes, “Jesus did not come to explain away suffering, or (always) remove it. He came to fill it with his presence.” A final observation. Healing is not the same as cure. Curing refers to the elimination of illness and disease. Healing may or may not include physical cure. God’s primary focus is and has always been our souls. Even people who are cured physically only live to die another day. On the other hand, people with healed (saved) souls live for all eternity. Your child may or may not be cured. If not, you can be assured that your child will eventually be relieved of his or her suffering, and will rest peacefully in the arms of God. This is the ultimate form of healing. A final thought, presented in the form of a prayer, offered by Ole Hallesby, a Norwegian theologian, for a friend: “Lord, if it will be to your glory, heal suddenly. If it will glorify you more, heal gradually; if it will glorify you even more, may your servant remain sick for a while; and if it will glorify your name still more, take him to yourself in heaven.”
I need guidance, but I don't feel God's presence. Has God left me? And is it okay to feel angry with God?
Good Friday is a shocking day, and not only because it marks the day in Christian tradition when Jesus died on the Cross. Also shocking is what the Son of God screams on the Cross before taking his last breath—My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mark 13:34). At least for a few horrible moments, no less than the Son of God felt cut off from his Heavenly Father. If you’ve ever felt like God has left you, or that God has abandoned you, you’re in good company. Jesus felt that way, and so did many others portrayed in scripture. The fact that the “lament” is the most common type of psalm in scripture bears testimony to how commonly and keenly even people of God felt God’s absence. Psalm 42 is a classic example of a psalm of lament. Apparently the author of Psalm 42 has been forced into exile, far from his beloved Israel. The Psalmist is not just homesick for the comforts of home. He longs for the presence of God that he felt so intensely in the sacred temple in Jerusalem. As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? (Psalm 42:1-2). Dark circumstances can make us feel cut off from God. Parents who watch their children struggle with life-threatening illness may feel temporarily blocked from God’s presence. Indeed, sometimes it seems like God is deliberately hiding from us. The great saints and mystics of the faith call such spiritually dry seasons the “dark night of the soul.” It’s as though God withdraws and pulls away the props we are used to. And he waits until we are finally so desperate that we are willing to go deeper than we’ve ever gone before with God. Deep calls to deep, says the Psalmist (42:7). The heart of God is calling our heart to go deeper than we’ve ever gone before. It serves no purpose to pretend we feel God’s presence when we don’t. God is not honored when we play pretend with him. What God wants from us is honest conversation, not false piety. John Ortberg notes, “The God of the Bible is a very big God who is not threatened in the least by people expressing their anger and grief over hurt.” If you’ve been playing the “quiet game,” Ortberg says, “having losses you never mourned and tears you never shed… (then) you need to stop escaping or running away and face the sadness.” Indeed, those of us hesitating to show our anger and hurt at God should note that the Psalmist has no such hesitation. Instead, he rages, “I say to God my Rock, ‘Why have you forgotten me?’ Why must I go around mourning oppressed by my enemy. My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all days long, ‘Where is your God?’” (42:9-10) The Psalmist proceeds to have a no-holds barred conversation with himself in the presence of God. He pours out his soul, holding nothing back. It’s as though his “true self” is having an argument with his fearful “false self,” and the true self is reminding the false self that this dark time will pass, and God will prevail. When disease strikes our children, we have a choice. We can bottle up our anger and live in despair. Or we can come clean with God and live in hope. Psalm 42 reminds us that our truest self will choose to live in hope. How? First, there are things to remember. Remember that God is with you, even though it doesn’t seem that way. Over and over the scriptures promise, God will neither leave you nor forsake you. Remember moments in your past when God was obviously present in your life, and remind yourself you’ll have more of those moments in the future. Remember that others have survived this “valley of the shadow,” and you will, too. Secondly, surrender your dark night to God. Stop fighting against the darkness, and trust God to use it for good. Keep practicing spiritual disciplines (prayer, solitude and silence, meditation on scripture, corporate worship, fellowship with community, etc.), and be open to new ways of being with God. Finally, keep hope alive. Parents of seriously ill children will always walk a fine line between realism and hope. Remember that even though it may look like nothing good is happening, a lot could be going on beneath the surface. Don’t believe the Evil One when he taunts you and says you’ll never see the light of day again. Trust God to work through the turmoil by transforming your soul and your life through this grueling experience. And trust God to make things right for your child, if not in this life then in the next. To quote the Psalmist, “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God” (42:11).
Romans 8:28
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose."
