Purpose in the pain.

It cannot be predicted.
It is no respecter of persons.
It is neither desired nor enjoyed.
And yet, God may use it to ...
make us still when we refuse to slow down,
hear His still, small voice in the quiet of the sickroom because we could not hear Him above the noise of daily life,
drive us to prayer because we seek His healing and comfort,
or push us into the pages of Scripture to rediscover His perfect promises.

For the last thirty-six hours, I have been curled up on the couch or in my bed, in pain. I did not see it coming, and, as usual, it did not hit when we had an open calendar, but on a weekend filled with fun activities as a family. My immediate, fleshly response is, "Seriously, Lord? Why now?" But as each hour passes in which I can do little else but sleep or pray, my thoughts move toward, "Okay, Lord. What?" What do I need to hear in the stillness? What was I missing in the hustle and bustle of motherhood and schooling? What do You want me to think about? What will You do with this time of illness that could not have been accomplished in health?

He may not show me the "what," but I know He can heal me in a nanosecond with only a word, so if He allows my body to remain in pain, I have to trust there is a purpose in the pain. And surrender.

I venture to say that the greatest earthly blessing that God can give to any of us is health, with the exception of sickness. Sickness has frequently been of more use to the saints of God than health has.
- C. H. Spurgeon

Health is a good thing; but sickness is far better, if it leads us to God. 
- J. C. Ryle

No comments: