“Adventures are never fun while you’re having them,” writes C. S. Lewis in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
Something similar could be said of suffering. Suffering can produce profound moments of growth, but I don’t know anyone who would choose it. I remember lying on the couch in our living room. I guess you could call it a living room. It was a living room on one wall with a small two-person metal framed couch. A small electric oven was pushed up against the adjoining wall, sandwiched between another metal chair. The third wall held two little refrigerators stacked on top of each other with a freezer so tiny it couldn’t even hold a normal-sized carton of ice cream. The refrigerators were pushed in next to a kitchen sink and a counter and kitchen cabinets finished the area. The fourth wall opened into the two bedrooms. At 200 square feet, our house at the time was small even for a tiny house.
I was lying there, weak from the effects of dengue fever—recovered, but still physically depleted. My husband was heading to the airport to work on some ongoing community development projects in the village where he is from. “You’re a strong girl,” he told me as he headed out the door. I remember thinking, “I’m so tired of having to be strong.”
Balancing ministry, cross-cultural life, and two young kids, life often felt hard. A couple weeks earlier I had felt such burnout that my husband asked if I wanted to travel early for our planned furlough just to give me a break, saying he would follow with the kids. I appreciated the offer but decided I could hold on a bit more. Furlough was just around the corner, and we had found such a great deal on plane tickets.
Then Covid hit. The airline contacted us saying our flight would most likely not go as scheduled. Not the news someone in the midst of burnout wants to hear. Should we cancel our flights? What if they still did go? We had also been planning our annual spring Velvet Ashes retreat. So many messages flew back and forth in the group chat about how we could retreat while still social distancing. Different people with a variety of organizations and company protocols.
Finally, we reached a compromise. There would be one house that followed strict social distancing protocols and another house that held more loose practices especially for those who needed to bring young kids. How do you tell a two-year-old that they can’t be within six feet of someone?
Just as I arrived to get the retreat houses ready, houses that a friend stuck in Australia had graciously allowed us to use, the first case of Covid was confirmed in our city. With it came the announcement—no gatherings of over ten people for the next two weeks. Instead of cleaning and setting up, I slowly locked the door and went home. I couldn’t even meet with my people.
The school holiday was moved up. Instead of having a scheduled routine and a break during the day with the kids, we were now all home stuck inside the walls of our tiny, tiny home. Even domestic flights were cancelled. I wondered if my husband’s return flight would be affected.
And yet, God was so faithful. While down with dengue, I read Psalm 71:20-21 (NLT) which says, “You have allowed me to suffer much hardship, but you will restore me to life again and lift me up from the depths of the earth. You will restore me to even greater honor and comfort me once again.” There is no promise in the Bible that we are guaranteed an easy life. In fact, John 16:33 says, “In this world you will have trouble.” But I have seen over and over again that God meets me in suffering. He comforts, carries, prunes, and grows me.
I did get to retreat, and the theme “Yet I will Celebrate” from Habakkuk chapter 3 was exactly what my weary heart needed. We didn’t retreat as a large group, but a few of us retreated individually or with one or two other people. We then joined for a virtual debrief. After the retreat, I had peace about cancelling our plane tickets. It’s a good thing that I did because that flight did get cancelled. If I had waited longer, we wouldn’t have gotten our money refunded. The domestic flight ban lifted just as my husband was scheduled to fly back, and we were so happy to have him home.
I learned to lean into my community more and ask for help. I saw God provide sweet gifts when things started to feel so hard. Several friends dropped off groceries. Another friend took my kids out for the morning so that I could truly rest. Due to the lock down, another friend who normally would have been working was off. She stayed with us while my husband was away, keeping us all sane. God was faithful as he always is—restoring, comforting, and holding me when I felt so week. Suffering isn’t fun when you are going through it, but I am thankful for the ways it grows my faith.
How have you seen God walk with you through times of suffering?
