Faith Within Suffering

 I didn't talk about God for a while. 

When I was younger, I never stopped. My oldest friend and I laughed last weekend about how I would pray for her to attend church when we were kids and tell her about my prayers. When I was in college, it was my purpose. On the reservation it was my profession. 

When the waves of suffering hit, I still professed God's goodness for a while, but eventually it became too much. The waves kept knocking me down every time I tried to get up. I was sick in a cancer ward. My relationship with church completely upended. My marriage destroyed. 

I stopped talking about my God because I couldn't make sense of my suffering or anyone else's pain. I didn't have any of my youthful certainty. I just had a whole bunch of questions and a whole lot of anger. 

Until life got better. Until I got perspective. Until I stood in the snow among the Tetons and said to the wind, "Ok, God, I'm ready. Let's do this again. I'm with you." 

I have some friends who are in the midst of their suffering right now. Their suffering is deep and their treatment is long and their pain is immense, both physically and emotionally. They are young mothers and fathers with cancer and blood disease, stuck in hospitals and treatment rooms.

But they haven't waited for things to get better to begin talking about the faithfulness of God. 

How is that possible??  

Their suffering has not let up. They are not better yet. They are not healed yet. And yet, they do not give up their faith. 

Their unrelenting profession of God's goodness in the midst of their sufferings has revealed to me some truths about the God I used to talk about a lot. 

If they can still trust God to be greater than sickness and weakness, then He must be a mighty and wonderful God. 

If in this world, where we are all going to suffer, where we are all going to experience sadness or depression, God can still be praised, does that not mean that the magnitude of His love and goodness is greater than the bad and terrible? 

Does that not show that one day He will conquer all of this suffering and make a better world? I sure think so. 

My sweet friend who I mentioned in the beginning of this post does not share my faith. In fact, none of my closest friends do. But we still talk about God. I tell her that I don't have easy answers anymore, that I actually have more questions than anything. I tell her that I don't know much.

But as I watch my friends praise God in their sufferings and as I reflect on the seasons of my life, both good and bad, I do know this: 

That every good thing, every couple falling in love, every glimmer of hope, every kind nurse during a hospital stay or moment of happiness comes from God because God IS goodness. He IS light. He is bright enough to shine through even our darkest days and moments. Even when those around me don't share my beliefs, I can't help but tell them of God's beauty in my life and sufferings. I can't help but talk about this God who has never given up on me. It is once again my heartbeat and my life's breath.

Does that mean that I have an easy relationship with church now? No. 

Do I spend time with God each morning before Emma wakes up? No, I honestly don't.

But I think that a complicated faith is still a good faith.

And I am proud of my friends who have been able to profess a beautiful and complicated faith in the midst of their sufferings. It inspires me, in these good and easy days, to not give up on speaking of the blessings of God through every difficult thing. Because even in the worst things the world can hand us, I still see the beauty and goodness of God.