Reflecting on this Christmas Season

Sometimes I have so many thoughts and want to write eloquently about them, but get overwhelmed by all I wish to say, so I don’t write at all. Weeks will go by, and I’ll wish I had taken the time to sort through it all.

Normally I sleep like a baby on planes, but last night, even though I was completely exhausted, I couldn’t seem to rest, so I figured it was time to write.

I spend a lot of time alone these days. I have always enjoyed alone time, but I admit, it can be pretty isolating when you’re living in a new city and being alone is not chosen, but instead imparted on you. When you’re pushing through recovery, it can be overwhelming emotionally to be alone for long periods of time. You notice the details of how different your body feels, and it is an impressive mind-game not to obsess over each change.

I recently read somewhere that it is easy to look in retrospect and see how God moved in the past, but it is harder to take time to acknowledge how he’s moving now. However, I believe this has been my biggest hope and prayer over the last several months, since being diagnosed with cancer. With each day, I find myself reverting back to questions of how I see God moving in the littlest details, and I am reminded of His presence.

I feel so close to Him these days.

However, I have also realized the danger of glamorizing suffering, and downplaying it. Pain exists in the world, and it is a result of the broken world we live in. It reminds us that the world is not as it should be, and points to the need for a Redeemer.

With this in mind, I have learned the importance of calling suffering for what it is and not reverting to what Tullian Tchividjian in his book Glorious Ruin says is the “Oprah” approach—always recounting suffering only for the good that resulted.

While I agree that character is shaped and relationships can be strengthened through suffering, placing suffering in a category that states its existence is always for a greater good, is dangerous. Suffering is painful, and I pray we can approach suffering by first acknowledging that frankly, well, it hurts. This is something I have been learning.

I naturally want to showcase the good in what I am facing and sometimes forget to face these difficult situations honestly. Facing suffering head on and initially calling it for what it is, has been essential for my understanding of the world we live in and why I place my hope in Christ, the Redeemer. I am thankful for that.

I find this year I am humbled and overwhelmed by the season of Advent—the season of expectation—and Christmas.  In the wake of suffering and this season of my life, the birth of Jesus, the Redeemer of all that is broken, holds a truer meaning.

While this seems to be a heavy post, I assure you that it is because I am so deeply impacted by Jesus’ presence and guidance during this season of my life. I can truly say he is walking beside me. There will come a day when pain and suffering will cease and all that is broken will be restored and made new. This is all I can think about heading into Christmas and the New Year, and it brings me great joy.

 

Merry Christmas, friends.

 

a-charlie-brown-christmas

Joy in Suffering

Nearly three years a go, I was here for Francis Chan’s talk about finding joy in suffering. I stumbled upon it today, and it resonated much more boldly. As the reality of facing cancer begins to weigh on my heart, I found great encouragement in sitting back and watching this 50 minute video.

In an era of a church that has hurt so many people, a church that has often strayed away from the simple command to love God and love others, a church that has brought so much pain to those I love dearly– I wish I could apologize face-to-face to each of you, as a Christian, for the pain Christians may have brought you at some point in your life. I struggle with the lack of sensitivity and focus on the Gospel and the person of Jesus in many of our churches today. If each of us truly focused our eyes on Jesus Christ, his words and his actions–how he loves so desperately every person, even those who persecute him–how much different would the church look? Now, many churches articulate this kind of action, but when it comes to actually living out a life that resembles Christ, that’s where you lose people. (At the same time, I am not discounting so many people who are faithfully seeking to follow Christ’s example and are making disciples to do the same…unfortunately, I think the former overrides the latter most of the time.)

When you spend time with Jesus, alone with Jesus, in prayer with Jesus, it is impossible to approach others with anything less than love and compassion. He molds your heart to be more like his. However, even the Scriptures show that those closest to Jesus–those who sought him most genuinely–suffered like him, as well. Still, in every case, it was throughout that suffering that these individuals felt Christ most closely. It was during these moments that the reality of the Holy Spirit became much more apparent.

Jesus is the ultimate comforter, and if life is always comfortable and moving smoothly, why would we ever seek Him? Why would we seek His comfort if we are fine on our own?

In this video, Francis Chan puts it simply:

“I’m not one who wants pain, but I’m one who wants Jesus.”

I resonated with that statement so strongly. I do not want to be going through cancer right now, especially at the start of my law school career, but I do want Jesus. I want to know Him, I want Him to be beside me during all of this, and I want to feel His comfort in a way I have never before. I want my heart to grow closer to His, to become more passionate, to love more deeply and to care about others more intimately.

I empathize and can say that I am adopting apostle Paul’s attitude right now and cannot wait to see how this suffering brings me closer to Jesus:

But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christand be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. Philippians 3:7-10