Stepping Out in Faith

Author's note: The following was written in 2003, and later published in a newsletter for chronically ill Christians called The Encourager. I'm adding it to the blog in case it is something that would be of encouragement to a wider audience. I'll be doing this with other writings I've submitted over the years as well.

In Genesis 12:1-25:18, the Bible tells us Abraham’s story, how God called him from his homeland to go to a new place that God had set aside for him and his descendants. Abraham had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew, taking only his possessions and his family. He had to step out in faith, trusting in God that where he was going would be better than what he left.
It occurs to me that we’re all on a similar journey when it comes to dealing with the changes that being chronically ill has created in our lives. Despite our illnesses, we are called to run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Heb 12:1), and that’s hard to do, literally or figuratively, when you’re ill.
I read once that many of us are like roller coasters, pushing to the top of the hill with everything we’ve got, and then crashing down to the bottom when we’ve pushed too far. On the other hand, I think many of us are like kiddie rides that just move around in small circles, going nowhere fast, for fear that we’ll only make ourselves sicker if we do more than the bare minimum needed to survive. Then more of us, I suspect, are like me, vacillating between the two extremes with an all or nothing mentality. Both extremes are damaging, whether we’re abusing our bodies beyond their capabilities, or allowing them to whither and atrophy. Neither lifestyle honors God or the temporary temples He’s loaned us (1 Cor. 6:19-20). But how does this compare to Abraham?
When God called Abraham to leave his home to go to a new place, he didn’t shout “Hot-diggity-dog Let’s make tracks ” and go running off into the desert with nothing but the clothing on his back. There weren’t restaurants on every corner, nor a “Wal-get” just around the next bend where he could pick up whatever he forgot to bring. It took planning to make sure they had what they needed all along the way. And when they needed to stop for a while, they did. They didn’t even take a direct route, but rather one that followed the rivers so they’d have water.
Neither did Abraham say “I don’t know about this… It doesn’t seem such a good idea,” all while worrying about the “what-if’s.” It could have been so easy for him to justify staying right where he was, choosing to keep what he already had, and forfeiting the promise of something better. After all, traveling back then was quite perilous, and certainly uncomfortable.
Abraham stepped out in faith, did what needed to be done to make the journey, rested when it was necessary, and eventually made it to the promised land and received God’s blessing. He traded all he had left behind for something far better. Perhaps we could find a way to do the same in the way we deal with our illnesses. Perhaps there’s a way we can find something workable between roller coasters and kiddie rides. How about a ferris wheel: slowly rising up to new challenges, enjoying the view from the top for a moment, and gently descending into a period of rest before we rise up again? Whatever we do, breaking out of our destructive habits will include stepping out of our comfort zones and trying something new, and trusting that if we do it for the right reasons, to honor God, that we’ll find ourselves trading up for something better.

Father, I thank you that You always give us something better when You ask us to give up something, no matter how much we may resist doing so. Give us the courage to willingly hand over everything we value and trust You to replace it with whatever You wish us to have instead, and give us the wisdom to know that Your way really is better. Give us the strength to follow the path you lay before us, and keep us hoping in the Promised Land at the end of the journey! In Christ's name, Amen!

Release Me!

This past Sunday, our pastor was sharing the latest of a series of sermons on the life of Old Testament Joseph (Genesis 37 & 39-47). It was a message I needed to hear. This particular sermon was focusing on Genesis chapter 40, in which Joseph was in prison after being falsely accused of attacking his employer's wife, and while there, he interprets the dreams of two fellow prisoners, one of whom is predicted to be released and returned to his position as the Pharaoh's cupbearer. He asked the cupbearer to remember him to the Pharaoh, to tell Pharaoh his story of unjust imprisonment, and ask for his release. The cupbearer was released, just as Joseph said he would be, but forgot about Joseph for two full years afterwards, before telling Pharaoh about him when Pharaoh had dreams of his own in need of interpretation. Our pastor was talking about what Joseph's thoughts and attitudes must have been... How easy it would have been to become discouraged, angry, and hopeless. Yet Joseph is described throughout his story as having remained faithful and praising God, of displaying good attitude and a good work ethic at a time when most people would be inclined to sulk. I found this message very convicting, for I, too, feel as if I'm imprisoned wrongly, only within a body that doesn't do what I want it to do, and charges me a high price when I do more than it will tolerate. Being chronically ill with no answers or healing in sight can and has made me feel discouraged, angry and hopeless at times. And it gets especially so when others "forget" me, either by not taking my situation seriously (as many do when there aren't any easy answers or fixes), or simply by moving on with their own lives and forgetting to occasionally invite me into it, even though I often have to decline such invitations (it's still nice to be asked!) I need to remember that God never forgets! He still has a plan for me, and will release me from this physical prison when His time is right for it, whether it will be in this life or the next. I need to keep the hope alive because of that promise, for hope is what keeps us going and lends power to a good attitude. Yet, I don't know when God's time for such release will come, and this isn't really my life to waste (since all good things come from Him) so I need to make the most of every day in spite of my limitations, rather than sit around expectantly waiting for a "better tomorrow" before trying to live my life. With that in mind, I've decided to do my best to keep on hoping that maybe this is the day I will be released from my ever-present pain and fatigue, but to forge ahead as if that release won't be coming anytime soon. When my Lord comes to unlock my prison door, I want Him to find me productive, content with my lot, and praising Him even before I know He's at the door, so that release is purely bonus.

Father, I thank you that we have such good examples in the Bible from which to learn. And I thank you that the Bible is full of Your promises; promises we know we can count on in Your good time. Thank You, Lord, in advance for the release You will give us from our prisons. In the meantime, help us to live each day to the fullest in service to You and those You have blessed us with for a time. Give us the strength and grace to do what You would have us do, and to do it cheerfully, with good attitude and a good work ethic. In Jesus' name, Amen.