"If this is how God treats his friends, no wonder he has so few of them." Teresa of Avila – Mary Henderson
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“If this is how God treats his friends, no wonder he has so few of them.” Teresa of Avila

“If this is how God treats his friends, no wonder he has so few of them.” Teresa of Avila

 November 8, 2010

This quote by Teresa of Avila in the 1500′s shows that our struggle with God and suffering is nothing new.

One of my spiritual mentors, Amy Carmichael, also wrote about it during the early 20th century. For the last two decades of her life, she was a bedridden invalid, but continued to live in India, where she remained involved in her lifelong work of helping orphans.

She wrote, regarding her illness, “So though through these months acceptance has been a word of liberty and victory and peace to me, it has never meant acquiescence in illness…But it did mean contentment with the unexplained. Neither Job nor Paul ever knew (so far as we know) why prayer for relief was answered as it was…Hardly a life that goes deep but has tragedy somewhere within it…And who can spare from his soul’s hidden history the great words spoken to St. Paul, “My grace is sufficient for thee, for My strength is made perfect in weakness”? Such words lead straight to a land where there is gold, and the gold of that land is good. “Gold – the word recalls Job’s affirmation, ‘When He hath tried me I shall come forth as gold’…The Eastern goldsmith sits on the floor by his crucible. For me, at least, it was not hard to know why the Heavenly Refiner had to sit so long. The heart knows its own dross. Blessed be the love that never wearies, never gives up hope that even in such poor metal He may at last see the reflection of His face. ‘How do you know when it is purified?’ we asked our village goldsmith. ‘When I can see my face in it,’ he answered.” (Rose From Brier by Amy Carmichael, Chapter 3)

Contentment with the unexplained. God hasn’t given us all the information to solve the age-old, anguishing riddle of suffering. There are pieces of the puzzle that won’t be seen in this life. But either He exists, or He doesn’t. And if He does, He is either good and loving, or He isn’t. Either everything that happens passes by His approval, or it doesn’t. The evidence is overwhelmingly convincing on the former side in each case. Somehow His goodness and love and allowance of suffering, all co-exist. We simply haven’t been given all the information in this life to be able to understand.

Perhaps it’s like trying to explain color to someone who can see only black and white. Words fall short. Maybe only in eternity can we comprehend the full answers to the questions of suffering.

Peace came for me only when I accepted the fact that I will not know the complete answers on this side of heaven. The choice before us is clear: either trust in Him with all our heart, not leaning on our own understanding, or don’t. (Proverbs 3:5, 6)

A fellow-pilgrim once said that difficulties either lead a person to become bitter or better. Without a conscious effort, the former automatically takes over. I know from experience and observation that bitterness poisons the container in which it is held.

For me, in the midst of suffering, I have come to this conclusion: How can I not trust this One who I have enjoyed and loved for so many years, who has showered me with good things all my life. I have richly tasted, drunk deeply, of this rare, exotic, incomparable One.

And yet, as C.S. Lewis wrote, “He’s not a tame lion.” But I’ve learned to rest in the integrity of His character–of what I DO know about Him–and this has helped me to reach contentment with the unexplained quandary of why He-being good, kind, and loving-allows suffering.