“Today is not the Last Word: finding hope in adversity”
February 18, 2020
In our early fifties, my husband and I moved out of congested Denver, Colorado to the countryside of North Carolina. We bought a small farmhouse and remodeled it into the charming cottage pictured above. I planned, planted, and nurtured flower gardens, fruits and vegetables. My husband and I had immediate access to state parks and the Blue Ridge mountains. Washington DC and other historic areas were an easy day’s drive away.
I joined a group of fellow-teachers in a book club and soon had a solid group of friends. Through our church, we were engaged with immigrants in the community.
I never planned to leave.
Seventeen years later, in 2016 we faced double crises. My husband was diagnosed with late stage kidney cancer. Simultaneously I suffered from an undiagnosed malady that prevented me from standing, gardening, or driving.
We couldn’t care for our property, and barely for ourselves. With an uncertain future, we decided we should put the house up for sale and see how God worked. Within three months, Bill had surgery, the house was sold and packed, and we headed back to Colorado.
It all happened too fast.
Although our health stabilized, we faced financial strain. We were shocked that the cost-of-living differences between rural North Carolina and urban Denver forced us into a retirement community. I’d given up a home I’d loved for a small, sunless apartment. I couldn’t garden, I couldn’t see stars. I grieved the loss of my happy life and blamed God. “Is this the best You can do?”
In earlier crises God had shown me special passages from he Bible which comforted me, and gave me peace. During this period I prayed and studied and neither felt His presence, nor His grace. Reading the Bible seemed a futile activity. Paul’s lofty promises seemed to mock me; I couldn’t rejoice in trials. Would I ever hear God speak to me again? I turned instead to contemporary Christian writers.
I’d been telling myself I would never be happy again, strong again, my life would never be purposeful, I would never escape from the emotional cave which trapped me. John Piper, in Future Grace identified those as some of Satan’s lies.
If those were lies, what was the truth?
I changed how I read the Bible. I shifted my focus from seeking relief to discovering God’s character. I listed the attributes He used to describe Himself, and categorized His actions. Although I failed to see what He might be doing in my life, I resolved to trust that He was truthful, saw my misery, and was compassionate.
Of course, I found comfort as well. Isaiah 61 encouraged me that God would anoint His servant to bring good news to me, to bind up my broken heart, to comfort my mourning, and to replace it with gladness. (Isaiah 61:1-3 NASB)
Our circumstances improved. We found a church of fervent young believers who welcomed us and ministered to us. The second year Bill’s health screen indicated the cancer had not spread. God provided a group of musicians that joined me regularly to play traditional music. I helped start a book club. And we happily cared for our “surprise” sixth grandchild.
Still, my emotions frequently descended into misery.
From Psalm 13 I learned that our troubled thoughts and sorrow may persist. I would have to fight for joy by choosing to “trust in your faithful love; rejoice in your deliverance…sing to the Lord because he has treated me generously.” (Psalms 13:5-6 CSB) I made a list of instances of His mercy. I added relevant scriptures. I prayed over the promises and evidence, and I preached to myself.
The despondency is fleeting now, but three and half years after the move, I still pine for North Carolina.
Two recent incidents helped me purpose to eliminate grumbling.
A missionary’s blog described how difficult it had been for her to transition from rural Kentucky to a megacity in Asia. She explained the truths God showed her to accept her place of service. I adopted her prayer list in order to let go of the home and lifestyle to which I felt I was entitled. Months later I went to a missions conference for our denomination. In a small group, I met her. I was stunned that out of thousands of missionaries serving overseas, and four hundred people at the conference, God brought us together.
A Sunday sermon convicted me that comparing my new situation to my former life led to grumbling. And complaints led to bitterness. I went down to the alter and asked our pastor to pray for me, and how tenderly God spoke to me through him.
I’m still not convinced that we didn’t make a mistake moving so quickly, seeing how well we’ve recovered. But even if it was a mistake, God knew what was coming.
And He knows what’s still to come. “Despair forgets there are more pages to our story.” https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/to-great-things-that-never-came
Someday I will understand why Denver is better for us.
What I feel and what I don’t understand now is not the last word.
You can find other stories of hope on Deena Adams’ blog, deenaadams.com
