Embracing the Mystery

My name is Joy.

People often say that I live up to it, although life has sobered me some and, unfortunately, I probably laugh less and carry more burdens than I used to. I’m the wife of a pastor, and the daughter of missionaries. My husband and I met in Bible College, married, went to Regent College to do masters studies, and then right into full time ministry. We took over a church plant and ministered there for almost nine years. During that time we were very busy raising our five children, two of whom have cleft lip and palate as well as Autism. They’re all precious gifts that circle us with love.

Over three long years ago my husband, Ken, started feeling very tired and experienced aching muscles and cramps. He carried on pastoring but would take days to recover after each Sunday. As doctors tried to determine what was wrong with him, we went through one of the worst phases of a long-term illness — not having validation. It wasn’t until February of 2005 that we received the diagnosis of Hypereosinophilic Syndrome (HES), a rare and poorly understood blood disorder. According to the medical journals, HES always ends badly. We were winded by the news and yet relieved that we knew the next step. Ken hadn’t been able to work since the fall of 2004, but with this diagnosis he formally stepped down from the church. A colleague and I continued giving oversight until a new pastor was found.

We love God, and want to serve, so we pray for healing. So many have rallied around us and prayed. We’re so thankful to be in a caring community. God seems to be telling us to wait on Him and be still. Things have not improved, but still we pray. I’ve gone through a whirlwind of emotions while petitioning God for healing. I can’t help wondering what I’m supposed to believe in — the miracle or the Christ? I know God will do as He pleases, and I hope I’m good with that. Is it a cop-out to pray, “Not my will but yours”? I know He’s able, but why does He not comply with my request? Am I following Him for what I can get? Why does He allow such pain? Jesus told his followers, “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him.” (Matthew 7:11) But He seems to be withholding this good gift. I can’t help but come to the inevitable conclusion that I am not capable of understanding.

C.S. Lewis, in his book A Grief Observed, ponders, “Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow a square or round? Probably half the questions we ask – half our great theological and metaphysical problems are like that.”¹

So, I get on with life and seek to follow the two greatest commandments — to love the Lord with all my heart and love my neighbour as myself (Mt 22:37-40). I can do that, even with questions unanswered. I still take my petitions to Him because I know He likes me to. But when my focus is on loving God, just walking with Him on this strange journey, and not the gift of healing, then I don’t feel as confused.

When we are depressed or in pain we often lack the ability to feel much of anything else. Nothing is very funny, or sad, or interesting. This becomes very serious when we cannot feel God’s warmth, or his presence. The isolation is unbearable. Jesus felt it when He cried out from the cross, “Father, why have you forsaken me?” Although we can’t put our pain on par with Christ’s, we can feel utterly forsaken. We know feelings are not sound counselors, but we often let them guide our logic. Illness can bring a vicious and unpredictable cycle of symptoms including fatigue, fear, anxiety, anger, stress, and depression. Although, statistics indicate that most of us will experience two or three chronic illnesses in our lifetime, when it happens to us, we all feel shocked and alone.

Jesus warned us that in this life we will have troubles (John 16:33), so why are we so surprised when they come? Why do we take every trial as if it were a deviation from God’s will for us? We are okay with the mystery of how great and unfathomable God is, but we’re not okay with the mystery of pain, especially when it affects us.

My heartfelt admonition to my fellow sojourners is to yield, not fight. Accept your lack of understanding. God is God, and the deeper you go, the more profound the mystery. We make God too small, because we make him in our own image – we expect Him to do the things we thought of, and question His character when he does not comply.

When the fiery darts of the enemy fly, put on the best defence: the shield of faith (Eph. 6:16). Trust in Him, not in what you asked Him to do. If we are to learn from Christ’s passion, then truly, “Thy will be done” is the ultimate prayer.

¹Lewis, C.S. A Grief Observed. Harper SanFransico, 2001