"When through the deep waters I call thee to go
the rivers of sorrow will not overflow.
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless
and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress."\
So goes my favorite stanza from the old hymn "How Firm A Foundation." The piece which has always stood out to me is the idea that God will not only be with me during times of sorrow, but to sanctify to me my deepest distress.
Sanctify - to set apart or declare holy. God can take my trials and deep sorrow and sanctify them to me - so I see as I look back the good those troubles brought (yes, I said the good) and even declare, "Thank you, Lord, for my sorrows." But how? In the middle of those deep waters, when I feel that water try to carry me away under a rip current of pain - I wonder, "How will God ever sanctify this to me?
No.
Not this.
It's too much."
I wrestled with this for quite some time, and I think it is no accident that I still wrestled all the way up to Resurrection Sunday morning.
If you think about it, what we call "Good Friday" was truly a terrible day. God the Son falsely accused, beaten, mocked, spat upon, and crucified. The Holy One, the Messiah, put to death, a criminal's death, a death of shame and agony. It was a day of pain, of suffering, of injustice.
But then, the third day - Jesus rose from the dead - sin had been cleansed, death defeated, and hope for all sinners declared when the Son of God rose with power.
Suddenly, we see the pain, suffering, and injustice of Friday in a new light. Because of the resurrection, all that pain and suffering was not in vain -the penalty for sin is paid, and life, new life is accomplished, scripture fulfilled, and man brought back into fellowship with God. Because of the resurrection, we can look back on the day Jesus was crucified and call it "Good Friday."
What deeper distress than God the Son betrayed, beaten and crucified? But because of the Resurrection, it is sanctified - set apart and declared holy. And so, in light of all this, I see that the God can take the deepest distress of all, and have the plan to make from it something beautiful. How much more is He able to take the deepest, darkest times of my life - the worst distress, the hardest days, and sanctify them!
If you read the title of this post, you're probably wondering "Ok, KC, I see the sanctification and the perspective, but what in the world do pink lines have to do with what you're talking about? Well, this post is a synthesis of two journal articles, written separately, but that I've come to see are really about the same thing. (I LOVE how the Holy Spirit works).
Those who know me, know that I journal to express the things on my mind. And right now, the topic on my mind is babies. In the morning when I wake up. When I'm at work. When I'm sitting at home in the evening. Before I fall asleep. I have an intense desire and longing to be pregnant right now. And truthfully, sometimes the longing is so intense and raw that I hold a baby or see a picture of a pregnant woman, and my heart, soul, and womb physically ache.
I have wanted to be a mother for as long as I can remember, and I can't adequately express the longing and want, that desire to see two pink lines on an EPT. Test after test, and every time - one bright pink, lonely line, mocking my heart's desire.
I've hoped and hoped, and even tried to give up on hoping each month - but to no avail. And to add insult to injury, I'm having trouble even ovulating - month after month of erratic temps, etc. And yet, test after test, even when I KNOW I'm not pregnant, I can't help but hope.
My darling husband knows how much I want a baby, and if it was completely up to him, we would be parents. Sometimes I wonder if he truly knows how much I want to be pregnant, that it's on my mind every minute, that sometimes I can't even focus at work because the longing takes over. He is so good to me in each moment of the journey.
I originally ended my journal entry saying,
"I don't know how to end this entry. I usually have some sort of wonderful realization or something. But right now, in this moment, all the answers ring hollow, resounding back to me my longing, all the comforts and assurances of others leave me only to shrug, and say 'I guess. Yeah.'
The reason it all feels so hollow and falls short of comfort is that every inspirational statement, every empathetic reassurance cant compare to what I want most.
2 Pink Lines
The flutter of new life in my womb
My precious child in my arms.
To be a mother - I ache, I long, I wait. Tearfully, patiently, impatiently, with hopeful anticipation."
But friends, the wonderful thing about our great God is that if we seek Him with all our heart, pour our honest sorrows and burdens at His feet, He shows us wonderful things, and envelops us in His vast love. And in that moment, He showed me what He was teaching me about distress and sanctification.
Because, in that moment, I knew two things to be true -
1. I want to be a mother more words can express.
2. Even if that were never to happen, I know that my faith and trust in God, my trust that His plans are ultimately good, that He has a good purpose for my life - is not dependent on whether I have a baby or not. I will fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God, and follow Him all the days of my life. Even in the ache, HE is my sufficiency.
And so the rivers of sorrow do not overflow.
Sanctification of distress does not mean that those times aren't terribly painful. It does not mean that I will ever want to repeat them. but rather, what I see is that those times have a purpose. It will be used for good, and for the kingdom of God - to draw me closer to Him, to draw others closer to Him. Some of that purpose I will get to see in this life, and the revelation of some of the purpose lies on the other side of eternity. I set my eyes on the unseen, and place my trust in God - knowing that the when and how are in His hands, but I rest assured, He can and He will "Sanctify to thee thy deepest distress."
