Devotions

So, you want to be a man or woman of God? If so, you are going to be served a cup of pain. You’ll weep because of something much worse than physical pain. I’m speaking of the pain of being bruised and rejected by friends; the pain of parents when children trample their hearts and become strangers to them; the pain between a husband and wife when walls are built up between them.

Oh, the turmoil that comes, the restless, sleepless nights — knowing that God is real, that you are walking in his Spirit, that you are loving Jesus with all that is in you, and yet you are forced to drink a cup of pain.

We cannot run from this cup. We cannot be fooled into thinking that following Jesus is only happiness. Scripture does say our approach to life should be to “count it all joy” (James 1:2). Yet it also says, “Many are the afflictions of the righteous” (Psalm 34:19).

Peter tried to drive away affliction in his flesh. He wielded a sword at Gethsemane, telling Jesus, in effect, “Master, you don’t have to go through this. I’ll keep them at bay while you make your escape.” Many Christians today have the same attitude. They try to turn away afflictions, saying, “I don’t have to face this. My God is a good God!”

I believe God is faithful. But Jesus tells us we cannot run from our cup of pain. He commanded Peter, “Put up your sword. That is not my Father’s way. Live by your sword and you will die by it.” Then he stated, “Shall I not drink the cup which my Father has given me?” (John 18:11).

When you trust the One who is serving you this cup — when you see his purpose behind your suffering — then you are able to drink it. Don’t be afraid, for your Father holds the cup. You are not drinking death but life!

I have read many biographies of missionaries, ranging from contemporary times to ancient history. You would think these precious people, so used of God, would have stories of constant love, power and joy. Not so. Their stories are marked by heartache, discouragement, even treachery — stories not of adventure but of tears.

If we are genuine in our desire to know the forces that produce godliness, we must go to the Garden of Gethsemane, to Jesus, our example. All the forces that opposed Job were also there at Gethsemane, arrayed against Christ. Likewise, the fierce tempter who sought out David’s heart on the rooftop is the same tempter who sought out Jesus on the temple pinnacle to destroy him. And all the forces of torment that plagued Peter’s soul were also at Gethsemane, battling with our Savior.

To every true man or woman of God there will come a cup of pain. Jesus’ entire ministry had been doing the will of his Father. Indeed, for three years everything he did pointed toward Calvary. Now, at Gethsemane, He cried out in effect, “Oh, God, if it is possible at all, relieve me of this burden. It’s too heavy for me. I would rather let it pass.”

I don’t know what your cup of pain may be. Some Christians have prayed for years to be delivered from theirs. Make no mistake, I believe in healing. Yet I also believe in healing afflictions. David testified, “Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now I keep your word” (Psalm 119:67).

We cannot let ourselves think that every pain or trial is an attack of the devil. Nor can we think that these trials mean we have sin in our lives and that God is judging us. David tells us differently. If he had not been afflicted, he would not have sought the Lord. 

I am amazed at our Lord’s loving response to grief. As I read the Bible, I see that nothing stirs the heart of God more than the soul that is overcome with grief.

Grief is defined as “deep sorrow” or “sadness caused by extreme distress.” Isaiah tells us the Lord himself is acquainted with this most wrenching emotion: “He is despised and rejected by men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).

We see a powerful example of God’s loving response to grief in Mark 5, where we read of Jesus’ encounter with Jairus, a synagogue ruler.

As president of the synagogue in Capernaum, Jairus was part of a religious system that had rejected Jesus. We don’t know what Jairus personally thought about Christ, but we do know he had witnessed his healing power. It was most likely in Jairus’ synagogue that Christ healed a man’s withered hand. And Jairus was probably among the crowds when Jesus cast out evil spirits and heard them cry, “You are the Son of God” (Mark 3:11).

We find that grief had come to the ruler’s house. His twelve-year-old daughter lay in bed, sick “at the point of death” (Mark 5:23).

Grief alone had driven Jairus to Jesus. The fact is, we serve a Savior who responds lovingly to our every hurt, pain and grief. We all have done what Jairus did. In times past we have forgotten the Lord, neglected him, perhaps even rejected him. Yet the question our God is most concerned with is this: “Where are you with me right now? In your present grief, will you call on me?”

Dear saint, Jesus is present with you in your battle. You can press in and touch him and experience the resurrecting, healing power of Christ, just as Jairus did. He is walking beside you through it all and he has a plan to bring you out of death and into life. Fear not — only believe!

Paul says a time comes when “having done all, [we] stand” (Ephesians 6:13). We stand on God’s Word — in spite of all our pain and grief, in spite of all the weakness of our flesh. In the Word of God we read of two who made the determination that, “I just need to touch the hem of his garment.” (The account of the ruler of the synagogue and the woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years is found in Mark 5:22-43.)

If you have not yet seen the answer to your prayer, you may wonder if God has forgotten you. I can assure you that he has been working on your deliverance from the moment you first prayed and your miracle is on its way.

I encourage you to stop digging up your past and remembering old bondages. And don’t run from one place to another seeking answers. Press in with faith and touch Jesus for yourself. Unburden yourself to him and commit everything into his hands. He has promised never to forsake you, so reach out to him.  

When David wrote in Psalm 147:4 that the Lord “counts the number of the stars,” he is reminding us, “When you’re in pain and feel like all is hopeless, stop and look up at the galaxies.” Our loving Father made all this! When we take time to concentrate on the majesty and power of the Creator, we gain perspective and realize that he is more than capable of meeting our individual needs.

We can stand in assurance as we fight battles within and pressures without, “Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2).

There comes a time in every believer’s life when the Spirit must move in a way that’s external from us. We need him to do the work that’s needed — to speak, touch, deliver. That’s exactly what happened when the disciples couldn’t cast a demon out of a suffering person. Jesus told them, “This kind comes out only by prayer and fasting” (see Mark 9:29). In other words, it required utter dependence on God. We have to say, “I can’t do this in my own power. It requires God’s strength.”

If your marriage is falling apart, it needs a living word from God that is clothed in power, not merely a theological word.

Churches are a dime a dozen if they are not clothed in power. It doesn’t matter how many elders are called in to provide counsel. A clear decision can be made by one or two who are clothed with power. All of this calls for time on our knees, waiting and trusting God to supply the need in his almighty power. And he delights to meet us! Jesus told the disciples, “I am sending the promise of my Father upon you” (Luke 24:49). This promise comes not by anything we do, but by the grace of our loving Father.

I tell you, when his power comes, there is nothing like it. We not only have a sense of the Spirit in us, but everyone in the vicinity does as well. A glorious presence descends, and everyone knows they are on holy ground.

The disciples needed prayer and fasting just to cast out one demon. We need it to face an entire wicked culture. Change will come only through power that arrives from on high. That calls for a people who are not only filled with the Spirit, abide in the Spirit, and walk in the Spirit, but who wait faithfully on the Spirit to be clothed in power by him.