Dear friends, do not be surprised at the
painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to
you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you
may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:12-13; NIV).
Treasured friend,
I daresay this Scripture
offers an upside down perspective on caregiving (and the challenges of aging
that our parents are enduring). Don’t be surprised that life isn’t what you
expected, that it isn’t perfect and sweet and without opposition—that aging
happens, and even if you don’t count wrinkles and gray hair, it usually isn’t all
that pretty a picture. But instead of wallowing, count it as another
opportunity to relate to Christ—and to look toward the joy that awaits us. He
showed us how as He endured the cross, despising the shame, all for the “joy
set before Him” (Hebrews 12:2).
That, I’ve found in recent
weeks, is easier preached than accomplished. It’s so much more natural to
respond with sullenness to personal setbacks, emotional and physical exhaustion,
disappointments in people and circumstances, distressing world conditions. Joy?
How can tumbling world markets bring joy? How can broken relationships be a
source of rejoicing? How can an injured body make me overjoyed? It would take
too many lines for me to list off the litany of grievances that have been
getting me down low since I’ve written to you last. And none of them has felt
anything near joyful. No, I can’t say I’ve put Peter’s instructions into
practice—at all.
Then again, were this
response natural, the apostle wouldn’t have had to instruct believers then—or now—to
rejoice. The Greek word for rejoice
describes greeting something with gladness, saluting it with calm happiness. It
can actually be a salutation—“be well.” Be well, spiritually, when physically
you’re not. Be well and at peace knowing this isn’t all there is—that there’s a
world to come that’s absolutely real and utterly fantastic—its finish never
chips or tarnishes, its relationships never end or disappoint, its length is
endless--literally. Be well as you remind yourself that the pain of this time and place may be obscuring the truth, but
the heavenly reality is still there, behind the storm clouds that will soon pour themselves out
and evaporate.
The key, I suppose, comes in
the last verse of the chapter:
So then, those who suffer according to
God's will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to
do good (1 Peter 4:19, NIV).
Trust God—commit it all to
Him because, as Paul would say, “He is able to keep what I’ve committed to Him
against that day” (2 Timothy 1:12). So, get it together, Jul. Continue to do
what you know is good and right. Don’t look around at others who aren’t living
in holiness and yet seem to be enjoying blessings and a cushy life. Think of the
way David put it in the Psalms: “don’t fret because of evildoers” (Psalm 37:1).
Instead, the Psalm seems to be the source Peter used. Because its prescription and his are so similar: “Trust in the
Lord and do good. Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight
yourself in the Lord” (vv. 3-4, NASB). Live where you're living. Do what you know is right and just for you to do as a follower of the Living God. And do it all as service to Him. Then the joy will follow--maybe today, and definitely tomorrow.
It’s a challenge I’m going to
make a solid attempt to live up to starting today … how about you?
Blessings and prayers,
Julie
© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com
