Disclaimer: I am not suggesting offering zero comfort to those suffering hardships beyond your experience. I AM asking what positive impact might be made by you sharing your story, by being open about your own struggles and hardships?
I am too often paralyzed in a self-imposed quest for perfection. As in, I sometimes yell at my kids, so I feel inadequate to share any encouragement related to parenting. Sometimes I’m really grumpy and pick stupid fights with my husband, so guess I don’t have this marriage thing down so well, either.
Jesus told his followers to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect and I’ve thought of this as a lifetime goal. I say blithely that no human is perfect, but I go ahead and expect it of myself.
Because we adopted, I felt that I had to be the ultimate mom. I was terrified of messing up and causing any further trauma to these little human beings. It was an unbearable burden I gave myself, because inevitably, I failed.
Sometime I think that because I’m a Christian, I have to live a perfect life. But then I fail, again and again. I’m harsh with myself, because I just can’t get it right.
I’ve had to rethink what Jesus was commanding here. I don’t think he’s laying a burden of perfection on anyone. Not that he condones sin: we know how we’re supposed to act and we should try to do so. But we have to give ourselves grace when we fail. The context of the command to be perfect is at the end of a passage on impartial love. We must love and pray for our enemies as well as our friends.
Our problem following Jesus is we're trying to be a better version of us, rather than a more accurate reflection of Him . . . but there's a big difference between liking Jesus and being like Him, and He said we would never be able to be like Him unless we loved our enemies.
Bob Goff in Everybody, Always
Ultimately, no one needs a perfect person. People need Jesus and they need to see us point to him, even in our imperfections. Christianity isn’t the pursuit of perfection. It’s the pursuit of Christ. And as we pursue him, learning through his word and depending on him in prayer, we will grow more and more like him.
Meanwhile, life on earth is messy and hard and it hurts. Everyone knows the beautiful and perfect posts on social media are only one side of the story, but I can’t help but wonder if we get sucked into the display. When we meet in church, we often share the blessings from the week. We don’t want to be negative, so we tend to emphasize only the good, and maybe to believe that our difficulties should be hidden.
But maybe it’s rejoicing even through the pain that others need to see. As a married person, my assurances of God’s perfect timing may be off-putting to those who are single but long for a spouse and a family. As someone with healthy, bouncing children, my talk of God’s love may cause pain to those whose children are severely ill or dying. Talk of God’s higher purposes may injure those who have suffered miscarriages or infertility when that talk comes from one rejoicing in the recent birth of a beautiful baby.
But most everyone I meet is dying to make me certain. They want me to know, without a doubt, that there is a hidden logic to this seeming chaos. Even when I was still in the hospital, a neighbor came to the door and told my husband that everything happens for a reason.
"I'd love to hear it," he replied.
"Pardon?" she said, startled.
"The reason my wife is dying," he said in that sweet and sour way he has, effectively ending the conversation as the neighbor stammered something and handed him a casserole.
Kate Bowler in Everything Happens For a Reason: and Other Lies I've Loved
God’s timing is perfect; his love is profound; his purposes are wonderful. But maybe the message is clearer when it comes from those walking through similar circumstances.
One of my particular challenges is that my husband and I have been unable to conceive. I know there are reasons. I know that especially the last couple of years I was in no shape to care for an infant. I know that our family has been richly blessed. We have three beautiful children and I love them fiercely. But no matter how many reasons my head knows, it’s my heart that hurts. Most of the time, I’m really okay. But there are days when the pain comes, and it’s so intense I can barely breathe.
For whatever reason, last week I had one of those days. I was trying to be happy. I was counting my blessings. I was enjoying the kids and the beautiful sunny weather. I told myself there was no good reason to be upset.
I got through the day and got the children to bed and I thought I was going to make it and be okay. Then my dear husband said something (something that wasn’t even a big deal) and I fell apart. And when I was finally able to tell him what was wrong, he told me not to hold back, to go ahead and cry.
So I did. And while the pain didn't go away, somehow it wasn't quite as hard to bear. And as I continued through the week, I was able to embrace true joy. It turns out, stuffing down the feelings maybe isn't the best way to cope with life's hurts. Sometimes, we have to acknowledge and grapple with the pain. We ask God the questions we can't understand.
I don’t think we should be glum or known as complainers. I think Christians should be the most joyful group of people anywhere. But being joyful doesn’t have to mean always happy. Maybe if we let the pain out and share it, we’d be of more use. Maybe shedding a few tears on each others’ shoulders would actually provide needed encouragement and even healing.
God doesn’t always take away our pain. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. God loves and hurts with us. Maybe hurting together and loving each other serves to make us more like Him along the way.
So what do you need to share today? And whose story can you listen to?
Perhaps the weirdest thing about having something awful happen is the fact that no one wants to hear about it. People tend to want to hear the summary but they don't usually want to hear it from you. And that it was awful. So simmer down and let them talk for a bit. Be willing to stare down the ugliness and sadness. Life is absurdly hard, and pretending it isn't is exhausting.
Kate Bowler in Everything Happens For a Reason: and Other Lies I've Loved (in Appendix 2, a short list of things to say to those going through something terrible)