What do we do when we see pain and suffering in this world, and yet we are helpless to do anything to help it? It is especially difficult when it hits close to home and it is a friend or family member going through it. This has been a struggle for me recently as we’ve had to watch our niece Andie walk toward the difficult task of a bone marrow transplant.
On one side, this is an incredible miracle and opportunity for her as this transplant should transform her life because it will get rid of the Diamond Blackfan Anemia (DBA), which has caused her to be dependent on blood transfusions every 3-4 weeks her entire life. The miracles of modern medicine are an absolute gift from God and are something to be celebrated, and we will rejoice when she gets to the other side of this.
On the other hand, she has to go through very intense chemotherapy prior to the transplant to essentially nuke her body and immune system so that the transplant can be successful and her body will take on the new bone marrow (definitely don’t know the nuts and bolts of it, but this is my very simplified understanding of it). Then there’s always the underlying fear of her body rejecting the new bone marrow or other complications.
All of this has been so complicated to process and it has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster, especially now as she is in the midst of chemo and today is when it’s supposed to really get hard. My heart breaks for my niece as she has to go through the pain - physical, emotional, spiritual - of all of this, and for her mom, Jenn, as she walks through this with her, by her side, and for her Dad, Shawn, and sister, Hannah, who are home in Dorchester trying to live life as normal when it really is anything but normal for them right now, but Hannah needs to finish her final year of elementary school and Shawn his first year as principal of an elementary school. If I’m struggling with it all and having a hard time, how must they all be doing? How can I even understand when I’m just the uncle seeing them going through this, not the parent or sibling? All the words I have to say to them seem to fall short and seem so insufficient for what my heart is feeling and saying and what they’re enduring.
In the end, all I can do is share my love with them, even if it’s only from a distance, and continue to cast my burdens upon the Lord; lifting them up in prayer and petition to our good Father who loves them more than I could ever comprehend. I could get angry that Andie (and by extension her family) has had to endure so much throughout the entirety of her young life, and I could direct that anger towards God for putting Andie through this, but I know that that isn’t the case. Could God have cured Andie with the snap of His fingers? Yes, He could, but He didn’t. That is the double edged sword of living in a broken world under the sovereignty of a God who has chosen to give us free will rather than us being robots. Free will comes with benefits, but it also comes with brokenness and illness and troubles and pain. Our free will has allowed us to choose God, but it also has allowed us to choose another way, and any way other than God’s way leads to brokenness and pain. In the beginning, we as humans decided we knew a better way and chose to rebel against our creator, bringing sin and pain into His good creation.
I will be clear, I am not talking about any individual’s choice to not follow God’s way, but in general, as humanity, us not following God’s way; in no way shape or form do I believe that anything Jenn or Shawn have done or didn’t do, etc caused Andie to be born with this anemia. She was born with it mainly because we live in a broken world where people have sickness and disease and pain, some of which we can trace the cause of, and some of which is completely inexplicable and unjustified, but I digress.
So what are we to do? Well, Paul and James would tell us to rejoice in all circumstances and trials, as hard as that is to do, and sometimes can seem impossible. Of course, rejoicing doesn’t always look like shouting praises from the rooftops, sometimes rejoicing can be in the midst of tears and crying out, simply saying “God, I trust you” even if it’s just in our hearts. It’s being grateful for the blessings we do have, even when it feels as though they are being drowned out by our pain and sorrows. So, as I weep tears that I don’t always know where they are coming from or why they are suddenly appearing, I choose to thank God for His goodness and mercy, even in the midst of difficulties. I thank Him that we live in a country where my niece can get the life saving treatment she’s gotten over the years with very little financial burden on her family in comparison to many other places in the world. I thank God that He has brought modern science and medicine to a place where we have treatment options available. I thank God that Andie was born in a country where she had access to treatment and wasn’t born in a developing country where she surely would have died. I thank God for how He has made my sister such an amazingly strong woman and mother who has fought for her daughter for the last almost 16 years, including starting a charity to help fund research and bring awareness to DBA so families in Canada wouldn’t have to face DBA alone like they did. I thank God for the young woman that He has been making Andie into (and her sister Hannah as well) in the midst of her difficulties and pain. I also thank God that in Him nothing is ever lost or meaningless because He will use all things for the good (Romans 8:28), and I believe that He will use everything Andie has gone through to bring blessing to the world in ways I can’t even fathom at this point.
I could go on; there are so many things to be thankful for and to rejoice, so I will rejoice in them, even as I weep. We serve a God who is ok with our struggles; I would argue that He even is glad that we struggle when things are not as they should be, because it means that we know that He wants better for His entire creation and that it is an injustice that brokenness and pain exist. I am so thankful for the Psalms that show us that it is alright to live in the struggle and to bring that pain and suffering to God. The lament Psalms are powerful examples of what it means to live in real relationship with God, being honest about the pain that comes in many different forms throughout life. The amazing thing about the lament Psalms is that they all are so honest about pain and anger and suffering, yet they all end in praise (outside of Psalm 88, which is followed by an incredible Psalm of praise in Psalm 89). They remind us that even though the night may be dark, there is always the morning; there is always hope, as long as we continue to look to Him and allow Him to lead us through the situation. Even in death, we know that He has victory and that we will be restored and resurrected at the end of all things, with no pain, sickness, suffering, or brokenness. He is always victorious and in Him we always have victory, even when we can’t see it.
So, God I praise you for who you are and what you’ve done. You are the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. You are always working, bringing restoration to your creation. You have brought so much restoration in my life, and I know you will continue. I put my whole trust in you and I give Andie, Jenn, Shawn, and Hannah to you, knowing that no matter what comes, that you are still faithful to them and that you weep with us as we walk down this road. Thank you for being our Good Father and never changing. Let your kingdom come and may you be glorified in the midst of this difficult season. Bless your holy name.
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