The Lord had me right where He wanted me. After eight years of youth ministry and twelve years of church ministry…after 20 years of a lot of DOING, the Lord was moving me to a position of BEING. I couldn’t do much after five rounds of chemotherapy and 37 radiation treatments. My body was weak, my mouth and throat were constantly raw, and the only way I could communicate was by writing words on my children’s Magna-Doodle. My almost-permanent place of residence was the living room couch where I constantly watched TV. My wife and I watched MASH and it brought temporary laughter during a depressing time. Sometimes we would watch the Food Network and Deanne would tell me, “One day…one day,” giving me hope that my feeding tube would be removed one day and I could eat via my mouth again.
But TV would provide a temporary diversion for only so long. Sleep evaded me but pain was my constant companion. I tried to read the Bible but my medications made my thoughts foggy and I couldn’t concentrate on the written words in front of me. I tried to pray but my anxiety afforded me only scant minutes to supplicate. My times of prayer consisted of short phrases, “I trust you, Lord,” “I love you, Lord,” “Whatever will bring you greater glory, Lord.” The Lord had me right where He wanted me.
Some would call the season I was going through “The Dark Night of the Soul,” referring to a 16th century Catholic poem describing the painful journey people go through as they go deep with God. This is not something the typical church talks about because no one wants to talk about suffering, pain, and lostness. Most messages I’ve heard lean towards victory, overcoming, and rising above. But there is something to be said about navigating difficult and painful situations. Valuable lessons can be learned through valleys as well as peaks. As a Church, I think we’ve lost the ability to lament.
For me, this was a season of loss. Not just in the ability to work and support my family, but in the simple things of hugging my children, eating a meal, or sleeping through the night. I had difficulty doing everything that was once normal. Every waking moment was a struggle. There was a sense that my desire for normalcy was futile and nothing would ever be the same again. It was the Dark Night of My Soul.
Another term for this is BROKENNESS. The world I had built where I was in control had been destroyed. God was showing me I was no longer in control but that He was in control. I was no longer the pilot of my life. I felt I was sitting in the back of the plane…in the last row…by the bathrooms. But that didn’t mean He didn’t care. He was still showing me His boundless love. Although I was incapable of doing any of my responsibilities at the church I was working for, the church continued to pay me. The medical insurance I had so adamantly tried to switch when I was first employed paid for my entire radiation bill which amounted to $70,000. And my relationship with my earthly father was being healed. During a time of hopelessness, God was showing me glimmers of hope along the way. Still, there was a greater sense that my life did not belong to me. God was stripping away all my self-sufficient, self-controlled, self-constructed pillars so I would learn I only needed one support: Him.
I had created a life that looked spiritual on the outside and what I thought was spiritual on the inside, but God was showing me that needed to change. I was doing ministry using my spiritual gifts, acquired skills, and natural abilities and it gave me a sense of purpose, but God was showing me ministry was secondary. I had been living a comfortable life with a wife and two kids, living in a nice home, but God was showing me it wasn’t about my safety and security. My spirituality, my purpose, my family, things I were in control of, were now crumbling and I had nothing to hang on to.
How many times I wanted God to heal me. Not just physically but emotionally, mentally, and psychologically. This brokenness was uncomfortable. I didn’t like it. At times it became unbearable. I wanted the kind of healing I read about in the Gospels when the blind man could instantly see or when Peter’s mother-in-law was cured of her fever. But I knew in the depth of my heart this was going to be a slow process. I could not rush what God wanted to do. His slowness wasn’t a reflection of His lack of grace, it was a sign of His abundance. It was this gradual walk that would move me from DOING to BEING.
Sometimes we don’t have good leaders who last because they are unwilling to be broken by God.
Questions to Think About:
Have you gone through a time of deep brokenness? What did you learn about God?
Are there areas in your life where you are more in control than God is?
© Gary Lau 2013
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