Tuesday marked the two-year anniversary of Mike’s death.
It wasn’t a sad day. Mike confidently knew where he would spend eternity and I have no doubt that his spirit is at this moment present with the Lord.
No, Tuesday wasn’t a sad day, but it was a day of reflection. I remembered the intensity of those first few weeks after his passing–the mental fog, the physical exhaustion, the emotional rawness, the fear of the unknown, the relentless nagging question of, “what now?” I couldn’t imagine two years down the road. There were moments, I couldn’t imagine the next two steps. One of my worst fears had come true.
Sometimes our very worst fears do come true. Sometimes our nightmares become all too real. Sometimes we are shattered into so many pieces that there is no hope of ever being put back together again.
But God understands our deepest fears and He sees our futures. He also knows when they will collide and what will break us. And He allows us to be broken–not so He can put us back together as we were before, but so that He can take the shards, grind them to dust, and make something completely new–a masterpiece that is stronger, more useful, more beautiful.
Charles Spurgeon said, “If the Lord shall break your heart, consent to have it broken, asking that He may sanctify that brokenness of spirit to bring you in earnest to the Savior.”
Pain is a pathway to experience God more fully. God uses our suffering to draw us to Him and to conform us to His image. I would never have wished for Mike to get cancer. I would never have wished for my husband of almost 25 years to die. I would never have wished for my children to lose their father. Yet, I would not trade the greater intimacy I have with Jesus for anything, nor would I trade the lessons God has lovingly taught me. I understand how Paul could declare in Philippians 3:8 “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.”
In those darkest hours two years ago and every moment since, He has been working to make me new. A.W. Tozer’s wisdom has proven true: “God does His deepest work in our darkest hours.”
God is not interested in simply repairing our brokenness. He wants to redeem us, to transform us, to prepare us for glory. “Remember not the former things or consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:18-19)
Yes, sometimes our worst fears come true, but what a gift we are given in return–experiencing more of Jesus, becoming more like Jesus, and knowing and being able to testify that God was faithful through the worst we could think of.