If you witnessed God parting the Red Sea and were a part of all the rejoicing and worship that happened immediately after, how long would it take for you to become desensitized to that experience? How long would it take for you to fall back into complacency, doubt, or an overall questioning of God’s timing, wisdom, plan, etc? A few weeks? A month? A year? Do you know how long it took Israel to go from triumphant praise at the awe-striking power and provision of God to grumbling and complaining over external hardship?

Who read today’s key verse and made a double-take when Peter said, “For it is time for judgment to begin with God’s household?” Maybe that’s something that catches us off guard– that God would commence His judgment starting in His household, that is the family of God. But how many times do we pray a prayer that sounds like this: “Lord, let your move start with me. Let your change start with me. Let your kingdom come through me.” The truth is, a lot of the time, we ask God to start with us. If His kingdom is to be built on this earth, we want to be in on the ground floor. If He is going to shake things up and let His Holy Spirit move on earth, we want to ride that wave and experience it.

In my sophomore year of college, I took a pottery class. I liked to take at least one creative class per semester to help blow of some steam and provide some sort of therapeutic break from essay writing and book reading, but mostly I took that class because it included a unit on throwing pottery. In other words, there was a large part of the semester that involved sitting at a pottery wheel, and that seemed like it would be a fun experience. Except there’s a lot of technique that goes into that. You have to get a hang for the right amount of moisture in the clay. Make the clay too dry and the clay won’t submit to the shape you’re trying to mold; too wet and it will be a sloppy, muddy mess that will either take forever to dry out or prove itself utterly impossible to mold into anything. There’s a learning curve to actually throwing the clay: where to put it on the wheel, how much clay to use if you’re just starting out, the methods of making the clay workable, how much height, depth, or thickness to make a good ceramic piece.

Boy, is this coronavirus teaching me a thing or two about my control issues. For those who don’t know, I’m supposed to get married in June. And by that, I mean, it’s still happening, but we’re getting to the point where some difficult decisions have to be made. Me, I was always the girl who dreamed about her wedding: the fairytale day that’s all about me and the love of my life taking the biggest step together. I grew up dreaming about every aspect of the day from the food and flowers to the music and the dress.

Jesus, I pray that you would give me a heart like this. A heart that is in awe of you at all times, that tells everyone of your love and mercy, and that is continually trusting in you. God, you are magnificent, but I am so broken. I am scared and I feel helpless. I cannot bring myself to this place of wanting to trust you anymore. Wherever I look, everything around me feels like it’s falling apart. God, I know you have a purpose in everything you do, but can I tell you how frustrated and helpless I feel right now?

Over the past two weeks, we’ve been driving the point home that your personal trials are about so much more than just you. They are about maturing and equipping you to reach someone who will need the truth tempered in you through these spiritual growing pains. They are about showing the real substance of your faith so that someone can be encouraged by the genuine worship and nature of your love for the Lord. But this week, as we come to a close, I want to zero in on you. How does suffering improve your relationship with Jesus?

Have you ever had this happen to you? Someone comes to you for advice or for comfort for a really difficult situation they’re going through. You know in your mind that it’s a difficult spot to be in, but you don’t know what to say or what comfort to give, because you don’t know what it’s like to be there in your heart. You feel like you’ve let this person down, somehow, because you’ve never had to walk through that situation. It’s not that you don’t care or lack compassion, but you can’t relate, and so the only advice you have to give feels Christianese or half-hearted.

Sure, James. Easier said than done. That’s always what I think when I hear the above verses. The fact of the matter is, no one wants to talk about suffering much less go through it. And let’s face it: it’s always going to be easy for people who have never walked through your same test to tell you to delight in the fact that you’re being tested. It’s always going to be our first, knee-jerk reaction to say, “Well, it’s easy for you to say, because you’re not living with this trainwreck of a situation.”