If I’m honest, my immediate answer to how I’m handling this season is, “not very well.” Just three weeks ago, I wrote a blog post entitled “From Whence Cometh Our Anxiety?”
In that post, I acknowledged that this current fundraising project was causing nearly debilitating levels of stress, and I wanted to take apart the reasons behind it. In summary, I declared that I knew these two truths about my situation:
- Satan seeks to destroy our peace and our witness when we’re getting too close to advancing God’s kingdom.
- God is ultimately in control of everything in my life, and believing in His sovereignty is paramount to my faith in Him.
I had to admit that not letting go of this anxiety meant I just wasn’t trusting Him enough.
Easy solution, right? I know the truth about my circumstances. I understand what that ultimately says about my faith. And I can ask God to restore my peace and rebuild my trust in Him.
But the reality is, I haven’t made much progress since then. And if I’m honest, part of me didn’t even want to write this post.
News flash: three weeks later, I still feel stuck. That’s why I hesitated to expose this weakness to the cyberspace world. But a recent conversation with a dear friend, who was experiencing some of the same struggles, convinced me that maybe we’re not quite done with this subject.
In these past three weeks, my stress levels actually increased, as one major element of this fundraiser looked like it might never be resolved. That one issue carried monumental consequences, possibly even the cancellation of the entire event.
I woke up many mornings with a deep sense of panic. I prayed often that God would grant me His peace, that He would help me internalize those two truths. I confessed my inability to put complete trust in Him.
I argued with myself about whether I should absolutely expect a powerful solution from God any day now. Then I reminded myself that sometimes God doesn’t answer our prayers the way we hope—and it was possible this would all fall apart. Yet somehow, He would still work good from it.
Then I would chastise myself for not believing that God loves to give good gifts to His children. Back I went to reminders of how faithful and generous He has already been to this nonprofit, and specifically to this fundraiser.
Did you get whiplash just reading that? That’s exactly how I felt—emotional whiplash—caught between faith and fear, longing to trust yet continually stumbling. And feeling like I was continually disappointing God with my lack of progress.
And then it happened. I got the email I had been praying for. The heavens opened up, the choir of angels started singing, and the sun came out again.
We had a resolution. Praise God!
But I also felt an obligation to look closer at why I battled through this with so much difficulty. What did God want me to learn? Was it just perseverance? Perhaps in part, but I sensed there was a deeper understanding God had in store for me.
After a few days of ruminating (and with that nudge from my friend still in the back of my mind), here I sit with a few not-so-new insights that God kindly reminded me of.
1. The struggle is part of life in this body.
Despite my desire to “get this right,” and my heartfelt pleas to God to help me, I realize that as long as I live in this sinful body in a broken world, I will continue to struggle.
Paul describes this perfectly in Romans: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing” (Romans 7:19). Yes, God can grow us over time, but the journey is rarely a straight line upward. Part of this Christian walk is learning to live with that tension without falling into despair.
2. God’s love for us doesn’t waver.
When progress feels impossible, it’s tempting to slip into the “God couldn’t possibly love me” mindset. But the truth is, God unconditionally and completely loves us in Christ. He sees our frustrations, He knows our desires are (mostly) to please Him, and He isn’t mad at us.
We can so easily picture God exasperated with us—arms crossed, toe tapping, wondering why we “still don’t get it.” But that’s not His heart. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:21: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” When we are in Christ, God sees us clothed in Jesus’ righteousness, not in our shortcomings.
3. Joy is deeper when we’ve known the pit.
And finally, this one is more personal than theological. Generally speaking, we women tend to be more emotionally driven. I’ll own that. In the past few weeks, I was so discouraged I worried the stress might make me physically sick. But that made the contrast to the euphoria of the good news all the more striking! Maybe this is one of God’s hidden blessings—that the sweetness of His gifts is intensified because of the valleys we walk through.
I will keep praying for God’s sanctifying work in this area, while recognizing that struggle will always be part of life in this broken body—until He calls me home or Jesus returns. That’s not bad news—it simply makes me long all the more for the day when faith will become sight.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us also lay aside every weight,
and sin which clings so closely,
and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.
Hebrews 12:1
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