The Ministry of Crying, Part 1

As a general rule I don't like to cry.  I much prefer to laugh.  Laughing is fun, enjoyable, and contagious.  Everyone likes it.  Yet, for several years now, God has been teaching me to cry.  He's been directing me to weep, mourn, and grieve as I fellowship with him.  Here's how it began.

I spent ten dark years seeking God for a child.  I was like Hannah whose sorrow was so great that as she cried out to God no sound came from her lips.  Though, unlike Hannah, many sounds came from deep within me as I struggled through the many emotions of unfulfilled desire: rejection, self-loathing, abandonment, loneliness and the theological implications of it all.  It was a difficult time in my life, to say the least.

But, as so often happens, out of great suffering came glory.  God used this time to challenge and correct  misconceptions I had about him, myself, the world, prayer, etc. etc. etc.  It became a abundant time of learning and drawing near to God.  It became a time of great intimacy.  From it God gave me this great truth:

"Suffering is the currency that buys you intimacy with God."


This is more than my personal experience.  It is a Biblical and historical pattern. The Apostle Paul testifies, "I want to know him, the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings."  In Romans 8:17 he adds, "Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory." If you look up the word "suffering you will find many Pauline passages that mirror these words.  He willingly endured hardship and pain, yes, for the sake of the gospel, but also to fellowship with Christ.

Recently, I read an account of a former Muslim believer who was imprisoned for more than two years in a metal shipping container in the Assab, a port town on the Red Sea.  Heat indexes reached 140 degrees.  He was fed very little and given only a small cup of water a day.  When asked how he was able to bear such suffering his response was, "Never have I felt so close to Jesus as when he was with me in prison."*

Why are we surprised at the rich fellowship that suffering produces?  After all, we serve a suffering servant.  Jesus life and death were both marked by great suffering.  He never ran from grief or pain, but embraced it fully.  Yes, on the cross, but also at Lazarus' tomb, in his family, his town, with his people. He experienced all the same reasons for suffering we do: loss, rejection, poverty, betrayal.  And many more most of us have yet to experience: persecution, an unjust trial and public execution.

Many believers desire greater intimacy with our Lord, but are unwilling to meet him in the place of suffering.  Who of us would abandon a spouse diagnosed with cancer, or a child wounded in a terrible accident?  Would we not rather embrace them, draw near to them, and stand by them.  This and much more is exactly what our Jesus does when we are the ones with the bad report, the one who's lost a loved one, or experienced rejection or betrayal.  He offers us his very presence, his companionship, his intimate fellowship.  Does it make sense to turn it down?

And so I encourage you, don't run from the tough, the difficult, and the painful.  Run into the arms of he who is familiar with suffering and pain. What you will find there will there will eclipse your suffering and transform your perspective.

But wait, there's more.  Don't forget to check back for Part 2.

*Live Dead Journal: 30 Days of Prayer for Unreached Peoples, 30 Days of Challenge