There, There

You've seen the movie, I'm sure. (Almost doesn't matter which movie I'm talking about; there are a lot of them.) Things are going along swimmingly and then a crisis occurs and all looks hopeless. And the nice person comes to the hopeless one, wraps their arm around them and says, "There, there ... things will get better." And I think, "Well ... maybe ... in your writers' haven." Because if we are to actually examine the facts, things don't always get better. We hope for the best and sometimes it doesn't happen. We pray for healing and they die instead. It is unimaginable that one so young would come down with cancer; surely there is something good around the corner. But sometimes there isn't. Oh, sometimes there is, but can we count on it? Experience would say we can't.

The movies don't help us. Oh, I get it. They're intended to tell a story. It needs to be a story we want to hear. And, frankly, we have enough pure reality. We want a happy ending. So they tell us stories with happy endings and we're happy. The girl gets the guy. The problem is solved. The princess lives happily ever after. No, it never happens that way in life (that "happily ever after" thing), but that's okay. It was just a story. Except that we have this tendency to take our stories and apply them to real life and then wonder what happened? I prayed; why didn't God do what I asked? I did what God wanted; why didn't I succeed? I tried to be good; why did things go so wrong? I remember the story of a pastor and his son who died in a fiery car crash on the highway. A reader asked me, "Where is your God now?" because we all know, don't we, that bad things aren't supposed to happen to good people. So our well-intentioned but woefully short "There, there" doesn't cut the mustard. And even that Christian movie about how things were going so bad and then the protagonist turned to Christ and everything came out okay turns out to be unreliable.

The Christian life isn't about better circumstances. Heaven isn't about a better place. It's about the presence of Christ. The presence of Christ eclipses the pleasures and tames the pains of this world. This is just to say, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Luke 12:34). Paul offers a better way.

I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Php 4:10-13)

Some would like us to believe that the "better way" is "Things will be better in heaven" or "Life is hard; get used to it." They want us to believe that we just need to lower our expectations and sacrifice any sense of hope or joy for the here and now and muddle through until you get to the other side. "Heaven is a wonderful place," they tell us. "Just wait!" Just another, "There, there." Paul disagreed. He did not say, "I've learned in whatever situation I am to endure bravely." He said, "I've learned to be content."

It's not a case of "Bear up and get through this." Biblically, that is not always the best advice. Jesus didn't send us a Comforter because we needed a Trainer. He sent us a Comforter because we will, in this life, need comfort. A drill sergeant has his place, but not the whole place. We are called to take up our cross (Matt 16:24), but there is, in all of it, a place for joy (James 1:2-4). Knowing where we're going and Who is on our side and what He can do, we can actually rejoice in hardship and be content in both "plenty and hunger, abundance and need." We don't do it alone. We don't do it by toughing it out. We do it "through Him who strengthens me."

I want to get to that point. Not the point of "There, there" with short-sighted platitudes and "It'll be okay" comfort. I want to get to the point where I rejoice in difficult times, where "I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Cor 12:7-10). I want to get to the place where I can bless God "who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God" (2 Cor 1:3-4). I want to be where Job was when he declared, "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD" (Job 1:21).