Here’s the question: How do I react to difficulty?
Oct 6, 2023 11:34:36 GMT -5
fearnot, oliverwithatwist, and 1 more like this
Post by Cindy on Oct 6, 2023 11:34:36 GMT -5
I want to share what one of my commentaries says as it's been a great help to me and I hope it will help you too.
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38–39)
Who am I going to be? Am I going to be self-indulgent and allow God to be cast in a bad light—even though I know in my heart the promise given to me, the price paid for me, the peace available for me? Am I going to deny all of that and say, “I want you to feel sorry for me. Listen to my tragedy”? Or am I going to say, “I will not dishonor this good, gracious, loving God who has been so kind to me, who has been so good to me. Therefore, I will not bring shame to His name in eliciting sympathy from anyone”?
What is the fear of God? The fear of God means you’re so in love with God that you are afraid of doing anything that would hurt Him. Oh, that we would be those who say, “We fear God. We will not snivel. God is good and we know in our hearts deep within us that all things are working together for good”?
Does this mean we’re not to sympathize with others when they’re going through difficulties?
While the Bible does, indeed, say we are to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15), what does it actually mean? Whenever you want to know what a verse or concept means, look at Jesus Christ who was the Word made flesh.
“Come quickly, Lord. The one whom thou lovest is sick,” pleaded Martha and Mary (John 11:3). Four days later, when Jesus finally arrived, Martha greeted Him, saying, “Where were You?”
Do you ever hear yourself talking like that? Do you ever hear yourself saying, “The bills are stacking up; my marriage is falling apart, my health is breaking down—where’s the Lord?”
After Martha came Mary. “Lord,” she cried, “if only You had been here, our brother would not have died.” Seeing her weep, Jesus wept. Why? Was it because Lazarus died? No. Jesus knew Lazarus would soon be called back from the dead. He wasn’t weeping for Lazarus. He was weeping because Mary didn’t get it.
As the multitude shouted, “Hosanna! Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord,” Jesus wept over the city. Why? Because of the people’s failure to understand that He came to give them spiritual salvation, not a political solution.
When I see Jesus weeping, I am amazed because He never weeps for Himself. He only weeps when other people don’t understand. Here, then, is the question: Thinking you’re being compassionate, are you one who constantly weeps with others? Perhaps what we need in the Christian community during this time of self-centered Christianity are men and women who say, “I fear God. Dear brother, even if you don’t understand—precious sister, even if you think this is cold-hearted or lacking compassion, you know that this difficulty or this tragedy will work for good. Stand on that knowledge. Cling to it. I will weep for you if you don’t get it. But I’m not going to weep with you as you question God and snivel. He’s too good for that. Righteous and true are His judgments (Psalm 19:9). Whatever He does will prove to be excellent. And I will stand on that.”
Jon Courson’s Application Commentary.
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38–39)
Here’s the question: How do I react to difficulty? Am I like Jacob, saying, “All things are working against me. How can this be happening to me? What good is going to come out of this tragedy”—even though I know in my heart that such is not the case? Or am I like Joseph, saying, “Man may have meant this for evil, but God meant it for good”?
Unfortunately, all too often I choose the sniveling of Jacob rather than the security of Joseph. Why? To elicit sympathy. My flesh is terribly ugly, and one of the things that makes it that way is my desire for you to feel sorry for me. What is it about our flesh that wants people to think we have it harder than anyone else? While that may seem an insignificant quirk, in reality it borders on blasphemy because in getting you to feel sorry for me, I get you to question God’s goodness, provision, and protection in my life. Thus, your pity for me is at God’s expense.
Who am I going to be? Am I going to be self-indulgent and allow God to be cast in a bad light—even though I know in my heart the promise given to me, the price paid for me, the peace available for me? Am I going to deny all of that and say, “I want you to feel sorry for me. Listen to my tragedy”? Or am I going to say, “I will not dishonor this good, gracious, loving God who has been so kind to me, who has been so good to me. Therefore, I will not bring shame to His name in eliciting sympathy from anyone”?
That is called the fear of the Lord. It’s respect. It’s reverence. It’s saying, “Father, I care more about Your reputation than I do about getting sympathy from the congregation. I don’t want them to think questioningly, negatively, or blasphemously of You.”
What is the fear of God? The fear of God means you’re so in love with God that you are afraid of doing anything that would hurt Him. Oh, that we would be those who say, “We fear God. We will not snivel. God is good and we know in our hearts deep within us that all things are working together for good”?
Does this mean we’re not to sympathize with others when they’re going through difficulties?
While the Bible does, indeed, say we are to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15), what does it actually mean? Whenever you want to know what a verse or concept means, look at Jesus Christ who was the Word made flesh.
“Come quickly, Lord. The one whom thou lovest is sick,” pleaded Martha and Mary (John 11:3). Four days later, when Jesus finally arrived, Martha greeted Him, saying, “Where were You?”
Do you ever hear yourself talking like that? Do you ever hear yourself saying, “The bills are stacking up; my marriage is falling apart, my health is breaking down—where’s the Lord?”
After Martha came Mary. “Lord,” she cried, “if only You had been here, our brother would not have died.” Seeing her weep, Jesus wept. Why? Was it because Lazarus died? No. Jesus knew Lazarus would soon be called back from the dead. He wasn’t weeping for Lazarus. He was weeping because Mary didn’t get it.
In Luke 19, we read of Jesus weeping again—this time over the city of Jerusalem.
As the multitude shouted, “Hosanna! Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord,” Jesus wept over the city. Why? Because of the people’s failure to understand that He came to give them spiritual salvation, not a political solution.
The third time Jesus spoke of weeping was in Luke 23. His back was beaten, His face swollen, and a crown of thorns was smashed into His skull, as He stumbled down the Via Dolorosa up to a hill called Calvary. To the women weeping along the way He said, “Don’t weep for Me. Weep for yourselves because you don’t understand what lies ahead for this city”
Jon Courson’s Application Commentary.
I remind myself of the truth and then just continue to watch my thoughts. 
!!
