By J.R. Miller
One wrote to a friend who for some time had been a sufferer, "God must love you very dearly, to trust so much pain and sorrow to your care." The thought of suffering as something entrusted to us by God, is a very suggestive one. We may not be accustomed to think of it in this way. Yet there is no doubt that every trouble which comes to us is really a trust, something committed to us to be accepted by us, used as a gift of God, and then accounted for.
It is thus, indeed, that all life comes to us. Nothing is our own to use for ourselves only. We receive our gifts and talents, not to be spent on ourselves or as we please--but to be increased by proper use, held for the honor of the Master, employed for the benefit of the world, and then returned to our Lord when He calls for the accounting.
Money is to be regarded likewise as a trust--not our own--but our Master's, to be used for Him in doing good to others. The same is true of all blessings that we receive. We dare not use any of them, even the smallest, for our own pleasure or comfort alone; if we do--they cease to be blessings to us. Even divine mercy, the greatest of all God's gifts, which is granted so freely to every penitent, can become ours only on condition that we shall dispense it to others. When we ask to be forgiven, we must pledge our Father that we will be forgiving. The forgiveness we receive is not for ourselves only--but is a trust to be used, to be given out again to others.
This is the law of all life. Everything which is put into our hands, from the tiniest flower which blooms in our window--to the infinite gift of eternal life--all are entrusted to us that we may share their beauty and benefit with those about us. They are bestowed upon us, not as a treasure to be selfishly used--but as blessings to be dispensed to others. To try to keep any blessing altogether for ourselves,is to lose it; we can make its blessing really our own--only by holding it and using it for the good of others.
Suffering in every form comes under the same principle. It is a trust from God. It may have, and doubtless has, its peculiar meaning for us. But we must listen for its message. It brings in its dark folds some gift of God expressly for us--but not for us to hold selfishly or to absorb in our own life. Whatever is spoken to us in the darkness of sorrow, we are to speak out in the light. What we hear in the ear as we listen in the hour of grief or pain--we are to proclaim upon the housetops. What is revealed to us in the darkened room, when the curtains are drawn--we must go and tell others in their hours of need and trial. In all trouble--we are stewards of the mysteries of God.
Pain is wonderful revealer. It teaches us many things we never could have known, if we had not been called to endure it. It opens windows through which we see, as we never saw before--the beautiful things of God's love. But the revealing is not to be hidden in our own heart. If we try thus to keep them, we shall miss their blessing; only by declaring them to others, can we make them truly our own and get their treasure for ourselves. Only what we give away, can we really hold forever.
No doubt God's children are ofttimes called to suffer in order that they may honor God in some way. This is illustrated in the case of Job. Satan sneeringly asks, "Does Job fear God for nothing? Have not you made a hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he has on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land. But put forth your hand now, and touch all that he has--and he will renounce you to your face."
It was necessary that this challenge of Satan's should be met and disproved, and hence the great trials through which Job was called to pass. His sufferings were not for the cleansing of his own nature, or the correction of faults in his character--but in order that he might show by his unshaken faith that his serving of God was not for earthly reward--but from true loyalty of soul.
Ofttimes the primary reason why godly men are called to suffer, is for the sake of witness they may give to the sincerity of their love for Christ and the reality of divine grace in them. The world sneers at religious profession. It refuses to believe that it is genuine. It defiantly asserts that what is called Christian principle is only selfishness, and that it would not stand severe testing. Then, godly men are called to endure loss, suffering or sorrow, not because there is any particular evil in themselves which needs to be eradicated--but because the Master needs their witness to answer the sneers of the world.
This suggests how important it is that all who claim to be Christ's followers shall guard most carefully the manner of their witnessing when they are passing though any trial. They do not know how much depends upon the victoriousness of their faith and joy in the hour of pain. Suppose that Job had failed, that he had not retained his integrity in the time of his sore trial; how Satan would have triumphed! But may it not be that in some sickness or loss or sorrow of ours, a like importance attaches to our faithfulness and submission, to our victoriousness, and that our failure would bring grief to the heart of Christ and cause the adversary to reproach God's name?
Then, whatever the unknown and inscrutable reason may be why we are called or permitted to suffer, there is always a duty of witnessing from which we cannot be exempted. Yet do many people think of this? We all understand that we are to confess Christ in our life before men, in our conduct, our words, our disposition, in our business, in our conflict with evil. But are we accustomed to think of a duty of confessing Christ in time of sorrow or trial? Too often those who in all other experiences are loyal to Christ, seem to break down in times of trouble, their faith failing. There is nothing in the way they endure pain or loss to show that they have any support or help which those who are not Christians do not have. No light from heaven seems to break into their earthly darkness. No unseen hand appears to come to them in their struggle, to hold them up. The comforts of God do not have any meaning for them. The voices of hope have no cheer for them.
But it is not thus that the friends of Christ should testify for their Master in their times of trial. The divine promises cover every experience. We are assured of the presence of Christ with us in every dark path, in every lonely way. We are clearly taught that the love of God never fails His children, that it is as true and tender in times of affliction--as it is in times of gladness, that it is the same when blessings are taken away--as when they are given. We know that all things work together for good to those who love God. It is made plain in the Scriptures, that no tribulation can harm us if we abide in Christ, that we shall be preserved blameless through the most terrible trials, if our faith in Christ does not fail. Many of life's events are full of mystery--we cannot understand them, nor can we see how they are consistent with God's love and wisdom. But we have the most positive assurance that some time we shall understand, and that in everything we shall see divine goodness.
With such comforts for every experience, we should never be cast down, however great are our trials. We should let the divine consolations into our heart, and believe them implicitly. We cannot but feel the pangs of grief--God will never blame us for our tears--but in our deepest afflictions our faith should not fail, and the songs of joy should not be choked. People are looking upon us and, and consciously or unconsciously, watching to see what Christ can do for us in our sore stress. To witness truly for Him we must suffer victoriously, be more than conquerors through Him that loved us.
We say that we believe on Christ and in the immortal life; what does our believing do for us? Do we endure our trials in such a radiant way, that those who see us are led to believe in Christ and to seek His love and help for themselves? If trouble is something committed to us as a trust, we must accept it reverently and submissively, we must endure it patiently and sweetly, we must take the divine comfort and let it sustain and strengthen us, and we must pass through it songfully, unhurt, with life enriched. Thus shall our trouble honor Christ and be a blessing to others.
There is a strange story of Abraham which illustrates one way in which trial must be endured if in it we would honor God. The old patriarch was bidden to take his son, his only son, the son of his love and of promise, and offer him on an altar as a burnt offering. The record says that God gave this command to Abraham to prove him, that is, to see if his faith would endure the test. And God was not disappointed in His friend. After it was all over, the angel of the Lord said to Abraham, "Because you have done this thing, and have not withheld your son... in blessing I will bless you."
Abraham accepted his trial as a trust from God, was faithful, and did not fail God. Then who can tell what a blessing his faithfulness has been to the world through the centuries? Other people have been taught by Abraham's example, to give their children to God unquestioningly, willing that He should use them as He will, in whatever form of service will best honor Him and most greatly bless the world.
We are always in danger of selfishness in times of grief or sorrow. We are apt to forget our duty to those about us. Some godly people drop out of their hands the tasks of love which filled them in the days of joy, and feel that they cannot take them up again. Some allow their life to be hurt, losing its sweetness, its joy, its zest. There are those who are never the same after a sore bereavement or a keen disappointment. They never get back again their winningness of spirit, their interest in others, and their enthusiasm in duty. They come out of their trial, self-centered, less joyous as Christians, less ready to do good.
But not thus should trouble affect us, if we accept it as a trust from God. Not only should we endure it victoriously, sustained by Christ--but we should emerge from it ready for better service and for greater usefulness than ever before. We are told that Jesus was made perfect through suffering. He learned in His own experience of sorrow, how to sympathize with His people in their sorrows, and how to comfort them. One of the reasons for trouble, is that in it we may be prepared for helping others in their troubles. Sorrow is a school, and we meet it as we should, only when we learn the lessons and go out fitted for being a richer blessing in the world.
The problem of all true living is not to miss pain or trial--but in all experiences, however hard or bitter, to keep our heart ever sweet, and our ministry of good, and helpfulness ever uninterrupted. The keenest suffering should make us only the gentler in spirit, and send us out to be yet more loving and thoughtful--a benediction to everyone we meet.
In one of Paul's epistles, we are taught that God's comfort also is given to us in trust. We do not receive it for ourselves only--but that we may give it out again to others. To the Corinthians, the apostle wrote in an outburst of joyous praise: "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, the God of all comfort; who comforts us in all our affliction, that we may be able to comfort them that are in any affliction, through the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God." Thus the intention of our heavenly Father, when He finds us in sorrow and ministers comfort to us, is not merely to get us through the trial, to strengthen us to endure for ourselves the pain or loss--but also to prepare us for being comforters of others.
When we have been helped to say, "Your will be done," in some great trial, and have been enabled to go on rejoicing in tribulation, we have a secret which we must tell others. We must go to those whom we find in grief or trial, and sitting down beside them, let them know what God did for us when we were in like experience, giving them the words of God which have helped us.
When we pray for comfort in sorrow, it should be with this motive--that we may get a new blessing to take to others. To ask to be comforted merely that we may be able to endure our own pain or grief is to pray selfishly. But when we pray that God would teach us the lessons of comfort that we may teach them again to others that He would help us to overcome that we may help others to be victorious, our prayer pleases Him and will be answered.
Thus our lesson gathers itself all into this: We are "stewards of the mysteries of God. ... It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful." When God sends us pain or sorrow--we are to be faithful. We are to accept our trust with love and to think of it as something of God's, which is committed to us. However heavy the burden, it is a gift from God and has a blessing in it for us. We must never forget that in our hardest trial--we have something of God's in our hands, and must treat it reverently and get from it whatever good God has sent to us in it. Then we must think of it also as something which is not for ourselves alone--but which we are to share with others.
It is a law among physicians, that whatever new discovery in medical science one makes--he must communicate it to the whole profession, that all may use the new knowledge for the alleviation of suffering or the saving of life. It should be a law of Christian life, that every good or blessing one may receive from God, any new revealing of truth, any new lesson, should be used for the helping of others in the name of Christ.
