In one sense, I am still afflicted. I don't see the world as I did before. I am not filled with a human hope and optimism for a better future. There is no more clarity in my life than there was before, and perhaps even less.
And yet, the good news of Jesus remains as true as it ever was. If life is eternal, then even the deepest suffering of this existence is but a shadow in the reality of His marvelous light. I do not aim to tell you when you will see the sufferings of this present life in that way; I do not intend to give you a timetable for when the Valley of Sorrow is behind you. I only know that the Master of life and death is truly on the throne.
I do not long suffer fools who claim to offer some map of meaning, as if we could create the meaning of our lives from the signs and symbols of existence. If life is pain, as was famously said, then the pain has its own intelligibility and purpose, whose flip-side is glory. I do not understand the appeal of the proclaimers of meaninglessness. We know better by the very fact of wanting the pain to end! I am redefined as one-who-suffers. The one who patiently endures it hopes for a recompense, when all accounts are settled.
Yet we must deal with those who speak in a cavalier fashion about suffering, as if it were desirable in itself. It is not, and it will never be. But the one from whom the eternal recompense is desired is loved for His own sake, and this is the source of endurance. It seems to me that hope is love deferred. Suffering is a testing of that love. As I sit here, I think I must be failing the test. And yet, he that is worthy of the greatest love is full of mercy, like a loving teacher, who never ends the test until his children pass.
I would have never chosen these valleys and shadows, but possibly the only thing worse than giving up is presuming that I know better than the one I am following. I am happy in this moment to accept that I am a poor helpless sheep, who would wander off the nearest cliff, if left to my own devices. Indeed, I've seen my share of cliffs, and wandered far down into rocky places before. I am looking forward to my, "I survived the valley of the shadow of death!" T-shirt, and my nice, emblazoned diamond-studded "Idiot Sheep" leather jacket. From what I heard, we won't need clothes in heaven; you don't need cocktails in Vegas either, but they're nice to have.
We are the singers of His mercy, until the emptiness of every created thing in itself is revealed, and after, when only Love remains.
And yet, the good news of Jesus remains as true as it ever was. If life is eternal, then even the deepest suffering of this existence is but a shadow in the reality of His marvelous light. I do not aim to tell you when you will see the sufferings of this present life in that way; I do not intend to give you a timetable for when the Valley of Sorrow is behind you. I only know that the Master of life and death is truly on the throne.
I do not long suffer fools who claim to offer some map of meaning, as if we could create the meaning of our lives from the signs and symbols of existence. If life is pain, as was famously said, then the pain has its own intelligibility and purpose, whose flip-side is glory. I do not understand the appeal of the proclaimers of meaninglessness. We know better by the very fact of wanting the pain to end! I am redefined as one-who-suffers. The one who patiently endures it hopes for a recompense, when all accounts are settled.
Yet we must deal with those who speak in a cavalier fashion about suffering, as if it were desirable in itself. It is not, and it will never be. But the one from whom the eternal recompense is desired is loved for His own sake, and this is the source of endurance. It seems to me that hope is love deferred. Suffering is a testing of that love. As I sit here, I think I must be failing the test. And yet, he that is worthy of the greatest love is full of mercy, like a loving teacher, who never ends the test until his children pass.
I would have never chosen these valleys and shadows, but possibly the only thing worse than giving up is presuming that I know better than the one I am following. I am happy in this moment to accept that I am a poor helpless sheep, who would wander off the nearest cliff, if left to my own devices. Indeed, I've seen my share of cliffs, and wandered far down into rocky places before. I am looking forward to my, "I survived the valley of the shadow of death!" T-shirt, and my nice, emblazoned diamond-studded "Idiot Sheep" leather jacket. From what I heard, we won't need clothes in heaven; you don't need cocktails in Vegas either, but they're nice to have.
We are the singers of His mercy, until the emptiness of every created thing in itself is revealed, and after, when only Love remains.
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