Don’t Blink at the Intersection of Suffering and Joy

Gratitude and peace are the necessary ingredients of true joy. (Pamela Piquette)

SUFFERING AND JOY

Don’t blink, or you will miss the glimpse of eternity at the intersection of suffering and joy.

The cross’ horizontal line might represent our linear lives here on earth, where Scripture promises we will suffer: …after you have suffered a little while, [Jesus] will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast. (1 Peter 5:10) The vertical line points us toward heaven, eternity, and joy.

Something unique happens at this intersection of suffering and joy. If I look directly at my suffering (trying not to run or hide from it) and don’t blink, I can see a life-altering gift—even though its appearance may be very brief.

I DIDN’T BLINK. I STOOD AMAZED

This isn’t just a word picture for me but has become more and more real.

• At the end of 2016, my daughter-in-law had been in labor for 18 hours when they had to move her from a birthing center to a hospital. After a short time, she invited her mother and me to join her and her husband as she struggled to deliver my granddaughter. That evening, I stood and held my breath with each contraction. After four long hours, when it seemed my daughter-in-law could endure no more, I witnessed birth—unmistakable beauty as the rigors of delivery intersected with the precious gift of new life.
• A few days later, I stood beside a dear friend at his deathbed, showing him a picture of my new granddaughter. Soon, his suffering would be over, and he would experience the profound joy of heaven.
• Five months later, we discovered that my dad had a brain tumor, which turned out to be a particularly aggressive cancer. As he journeyed through suffering, I entered it with him and stood beside him. Often, I was simply present. Toward the end of his 5½-month battle, my dad was moved to hospice. That day was like no other. Dad was alert, present, and participating as much as a man could who had lost his ability to speak his thoughts aloud. Familiar phrases and simple answers were still there, but nothing more. We talked—well, I talked—about how Dad had prepared us to go on without him. It was okay for him to go home to Jesus. We were ready—and Dad was ready, too.

DON’T BLINK, OR YOU’LL MISS THE MOMENTS WHEN JESUS IS RIGHT THERE IN THE ROOM

I know Jesus is always with us, but I am much more aware of Him at births and deaths. Perhaps this awareness is a special gift we gain if we don’t look away or try to avoid any suffering.

Less than 50 hours after he entered hospice, Daddy was home with Jesus. We were so very sad that he was no longer with us but so very grateful that he was no longer in pain.

That’s when it struck me. Joy isn’t a feeling of happiness but of gratitude mixed with profound and deep peace—Jesus’ peace, the peace that surpasses all understanding: And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:7)

Chronic illness is similar. I’ve learned that if I don’t look away as I experience pain but look into it, accept it, and embrace with gratitude not the pain itself but the One who endures it with me, I experience His deep peace.

GRATITUDE AND PEACE ARE THE NECESSARY INGREDIENTS OF TRUE JOY

When you see the intersection of suffering and joy on the cross (where our suffering collides with Jesus’), don’t blink, and you won’t miss the true joy!