For the past few days, as I’ve prayed for friends going through some health issues, it’s been for God’s healing, or for a potentially serious situation to not materialize. For anyone grieving a loss, I pray for God’s hand of comfort in their lives. In every single circumstance where I’m praying for others, or myself, my plea is for the removal of the problem, essentially, for comfort.
I was then reminded of one of the pillars of this ministry – God does his best and most permanent work in our lives through our trials.
I felt God leading me to write about how I might reconcile this conundrum. Does my prayer for comfort go against God’s desire to grow someone through their trial? God even brought this title to mind.
But then I started to remember that I just might have written a similar blog in the past. Thanks to the search option on my website, I find the blog, written more than three years ago, with the exact same title!
My first thought was, “Shoot! I’m going to have to come up with another topic!” But I ended up reading through the previous post from May, 2021, and it did say much of what I wanted to share today.
Then for the very first time, I felt God telling me to share it again. I don’t recycle blog posts (unless they go into a book), but the feeling was strong. Apparently God thought this message needed to be shared once more.
So below, you’ll find the original 2021 post, with my prayer that someone out there needs to hear this message again.
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Last week we looked at how quickly a gift can cross the line into becoming an idol. Today I look at an area no one really wants to talk about! The idol of comfort. “How can that be wrong?” you ask. Unfortunately we’ll look at a couple of ways we can want comfort for ourselves and others when it’s not necessarily what God wants.
First a disclaimer. This post is not intended to say that God doesn’t ever want us to be comfortable. Comfort, in and of itself, is not wrong. The Bible clearly and often talks about how God loves to bless His children. And in some cases (but not all), we rightly assume those blessings fall into the “comfort” category.
Let’s talk first about our own comfort. Then we’ll venture into the world of the grieving person.
I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t like pain – physical or emotional. If I had my way, I’d be put out for virtually any medical procedure because I’m not a big fan of hurting. And despite over 3 years [at the time] of hurting emotionally, I would love to move past that as well.
Wouldn’t we all choose smooth sailing and luxurious afternoons at the beach in a hammock? Sounds delightful, but we know better, don’t we? Once again, the topic of sin and this fallen world come into play. Virtually every one of us has dealt with difficulties in our lives – times when we felt anything but comfortable.
We also know inherently that God does his best and most permanent work through our trials. [There it is again!] Even though I’ve learned to embrace that reality, deep down I’d prefer happiness and comfort.
Where we cross that “idol” line is when our only goal is to eliminate our pain and achieve a naïve level of comfort. What should we do instead? How about intentionally walking with God through the trial and the pain, looking for what He wants to teach us because of it?
While I certainly don’t nail this every time, I do understand that it’s the proper way to handle the delicate balance of pain and comfort. Thank God for those times of comfortable blessings, and hold His hand tightly during your trials, listening for his voice through it.
What about our friends and family who are hurting? Certainly it’s appropriate for us to want them not to hurt, right? We love them and we hate to see them suffering from anything.
But in the world of those grieving a deep loss, how can this desire to eliminate their pain backfire?
In one sense, it goes back to what we just discussed. What is God doing in your loved one’s life through their pain? Do you want to short-circuit that lesson? Or should you trust God to walk them through it and teach them through it?
The other tendency is to try to move our grieving friend through their pain at our pace. News flash – we are not in charge of that journey! But how often do we want to hurry them along because their pain makes us uncomfortable?
Those of us who have grieved, and are still grieving a deep loss, know how important it is to process that loss at our own pace so that it doesn’t get stuffed down only to pop up somewhere down the road, usually in an unhealthy manner.
How can we recognize if we’ve inadvertently slipped into this “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” mode?
- We freely use “well, at least…” statements which downplay the heartache and subtly tell your hurting friend that they really shouldn’t feel that bad.
- We expect them to move on.
- Sometimes we blatantly tell them, “Don’t you think [their loved one] would want you to move on? Or “I think it’s time you stopped being so sad.”
- Other times, we covertly and probably unintentionally send that message by never talking about what their life has become now that their loved one has passed.
- We are obviously uncomfortable with any public displays of grieving or tears. Message received – don’t bring your pain into my world.
I could add more, but I think you get the point.
In those scenarios, when our main goal is to eliminate any and all pain at the expense of missing out on the lessons and character-building from God, we have, indeed, made comfort an idol.
We’ve all been there. It’s not irreversible. Ask God to give you a heart that wants to grow through your own pain.
And a heart that wants to walk alongside that hurting friend for however long it takes. Ultimately, that will bring infinitely more comfort to their lives than rushing them through their trial.
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time
are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.
Romans 8:18