Discovering God in Times of Testing

Can you imagine what the marble must have looked like
before Michelangelo began carving his "Pieta"?

There’s an adage we sometimes hear that we can learn more from failure than we do from success. We could offer a variety of possible reasons for this, but my experience and that of many people I know is that, whether we like it or not, it’s true.

Success might be the result of vision, hard work and determination. But it might also be a product of being in the right place at the right time, or happenstance. Causes for failure, however, are usually easier to identify: Poor judgment; bad planning; not working hard enough; unwillingness to persevere, quitting too soon; downright sinful wrongdoing. Those are just some of possible contributors to failure.

 

But there’s another one we don’t often consider: God might be allowing adversity in our lives because He has some lessons we need to learn. The Bible calls it “testing,” “tribulations” or “trials.” 

 

One of the earliest references in the Scriptures is Deuteronomy, after God had given to Moses His commandments and instructions for the people of Israel. Referring to the nomadic journey the Lord had taken them on after their escape from slavery in Egypt, Moses said, “Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep His commands” (Deuteronomy 8:2).

 

If ever there were a stiff-necked people, it was the Israelites whom God had specifically and specially chosen to be His own people. He could have chosen many other people groups, but the people of Israel were those He ordained to be His for eternity. During their 40-year wanderings, they had rebelled against Him on numerous occasions. So, He kept them in the wilderness for four decades, not only to test what was in their hearts but also to shape their character for the future He had for them.

 

A number of New Testament passages speak to this as well. In James 1:3-4, the apostle exhorts his readers, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Verses later James adds, “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him” (James 1:12).

 

There’s a similar statement in the short book of 1 Peter. After opening his letter to readers he calls “God’s elect, strangers in the world…,” Peter encourages, “In this you greatly rejoice, though for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – or greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus is revealed” (1 Peter 1:1,7).

 

We could cite many other passages, but it’s clear that what we often regard as failure, or mistakenly believe to be the result of sinful disobedience, might actually part of the refining process God uses to mold and shape us into the people He desires for us to be.

 

I can think of many times of testing in my life, times when I often wondered, ‘What did I do wrong?’ ‘Why is this happening?’ The benefits of the testing began when I shifted my questioning to ask, ‘What are you trying to teach me, Lord?’ 

 

There was the time when after leaving the newspaper business to join the staff of a Christian ministry, our house in our former city sat on the market for an entire year. All the while we struggled to meet mortgage payments on that house and the house we had bought, along with a bridge loan to buy the purchase of the new house in the interim. 

 

During that time, I dug deeply and diligently into the Scriptures, seeking to learn that “nugget” God was trying to teach me. I learned many things over that period, but the most important was this: The Lord telling me, “I am God, Bob, and you’re not!” He was eagerly working to break down my self-sufficiency and learn to trust Him, no matter the circumstances.

 

Since then, I and my family have dealt with testing in many forms. We felt fear at times, as well as anger, frustration, you name it. But God knew exactly what He was doing. And we’ve learned much as we’ve gone through the process.

 

Some sculptors, they say, work on a block of granite or marble simply chipping away at everything that does not look like the image they have formed in their mind’s eye. I imagine God doing the same with us, knowing how broken we all are, and slowly chipping away at our flaws, determined to transform us into the image of His Son. 

As 1 John 3:2 says, “Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” Wow! If that’s the outcome of God’s faithful and loving testing in our lives, I’m all for it. How about you? 

‘Pasta-Tense’ Perspectives on Italy

The Roman Colosseum, a vast amphitheater of historic lore,
remains a visual wonder to this day.

Do you have any idea how much old stuff they have in Italy?

In the United States, a building 25 years or older becomes a prime candidate for being razed, to be replaced by something shinier, sleeker and, well, newer. Not in Italy, or much of Europe for that matter, as I had the pleasant opportunity to observe. One reason for my recent blog “sabbatical” was that my wife and I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join a group tour of Italy. As a result, I can now attest there’s a lot of old stuff there – REALLY old stuff.

Unlike in the USA, where we’re quick to demolish domed stadiums, retail stores, hotels and all sorts of other structures the moment they start to exhibit the first signs of age, things in “the old country” were built to last. Perhaps, even as they were being constructed, architects and builders were considering how these grand facilities would present themselves years later in what we could term, the “pasta tense.”

Take the Roman Colosseum, for example. The revered amphitheater was built in the first century A.D. Even though it has taken a beating over the years, it remains a stately icon of history. No one’s booking the Colosseum for sporting events these days, but neither is anyone in Rome contemplating tearing it down and replacing it with a shopping mall or condominiums.

Artwork that defies description can be
seen everywhere in the Vatican.

The Sistine Chapel in Vatican City, known best for Michelangelo’s wondrous ceiling paintings, is young by comparison, dating back only to the 15^thcentury. But more than 600 years later, it still mesmerizes many thousands of visitors daily, not only for its artistic beauty but also for the compelling spiritual messages captured by each work of art. The imagery – and truths – throughout the Vatican have endured the passing of time.

This “built to last” philosophy was evident everywhere we went, whether it was ancient Assisi, birthplace of St. Francis; the ruins of Pompeii, reminders of the once-prospering Roman city buried by the 79 A.D. eruption of Vesuvius; the hillside city of Montefiascone, or picturesque seaside communities like Positano and Sorrento.

Rock formations off coastal communities
like Capri command a sense of awe.

The imposing “faraglioni” rock formations off the island of Capri, which have adorned travelogues as well as theatrical films set in that area, leave their own lasting impressions – not of human imagination and construction, but of natural wonder.

During our 12-day travels across what the natives know as Italia, I found much to take note of and ponder. But the enduring qualities of what we saw firsthand ranked right at the top of the list.

Pride of workmanship, perseverance and creativity were represented in each, but in many cases, we could see another quality on display: devotion to the Creator God. In my view, it was a manifestation of the admonition from Colossians 3:23-24, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.”

Renaissance painters, not only Michelangelo but also masters like Sandro Botticelli, Pietro Perugino, Pinturicchio, Domenico Ghirlandaio and Cosimo Roselli, labored countless hours on frescos and draperies to create scenes that depicted biblical characters and stories. Even if these artists were commissioned and compensated for their work, there is something exquisite and timeless about their work that could only have come through labors of love for their God.

Michelangelo's famed Pieta in St. Peter's Basilica.

Everywhere we visited in Italy we found churches and chapels boasting a level of craftsmanship rarely seen in our contemporary world. In fact, you might say in some respects they have an otherworldly quality to them, work undertken as a form of worship.

I suspect undergirding some of these projects was King Solomon’s declaration in Ecclesiastes 9:10, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.” If only we could see more people pursuing their work with that sort of passion and motivation today.

Nonchalant With the Divine?

You’ve probably seen photos or replicas of the famous fresco painting, “The Creation of Adam,” that adorns the ceiling of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel in Rome. This meticulously conceived work by Michelangelo from the early 1500s is one of the iconic creations in the world of art.

Books have been written about this singular treasure. Art critics through the centuries have been enraptured by its beauty, as well as its profound emotional impact upon all who view it. Recently, someone drew my attention to an intriguing detail in this scene depicted from the book of Genesis.

One of the best-known sections of the painting represents the hands of both God and Adam at the moment of creation. God’s right hand appears to be reaching out in earnest, desperately seeking to touch Adam, the first man. Adam, on the other hand (literally), seems nonchalant, his left hand almost limp, displaying little exertion for reciprocating toward the Divine.

If a caption were written, Adam might well be saying something like, “Oh, hi. How ya doin’?”

Perhaps in Michelangelo’s mind, Adam was just awakening, groggily becoming aware of what was happening. So in that context, the less-than-earnest effort displayed for reaching toward God might be understandable. But it occurs to me that this must be how God views how we feebly approach Him at times.

If you’re a parent, you remember how eagerly we’ve been greeted by our children when we returned home from work or an errand. “Mommy, Mommy!” or “Daddy, Daddy!” they scream with delight, running toward us for a welcoming embrace. By the time they’re teenagers, however, that enthusiasm is usually gone. We walk into the room and all we get is a shrug or “Hey,” while they stay focused on the text they’re sending, a game on their tablet, or the TV show they’re watching.

Sometimes we’re the same as believers. Early in our walk with God, we’re all “Daddy, Daddy!” – or “Abba, Abba!” to use the correct biblical term. But as months and years in our spiritual journey wind along, our excited greetings degenerate into a casual wave. The effort to get ready to attend a worship service starts seeming like too much trouble. Even though we know it would be good to devote some quality time each day to prayer and studying the Bible, it seems there’s always something more urgent to address.

That’s why I often try to remind myself that unlike Adam’s depiction in Michelangelo’s masterpiece, I need to pursue the Lord as eagerly as He has pursued me. “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

More and more it seems we’re living in a similarly “dry and weary land” where fervent faith isn’t “cool.” But that doesn’t mean it’s not important and shouldn’t be cultivated. Do we thirst and long for God, as the psalmist writes?

Taking a lackadaisical attitude toward our relationship with God, fired up only by the furnace of crisis and then soon cooled afterward, runs the risk of becoming like the church of Laodicea, described in the book of Revelation: “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! Because you are neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Revelation 3:15-16).

In other words, if the idea of spending time with God no longer lights your fire, check to see if your wood is wet!

Finding Your ‘Sweet Spot’

Last week I was telling someone about how much I enjoy my job, that as a journalist every day I’m able to engage in a challenging and intriguing variety of writing projects, including books, magazine articles, website content, a weekly email workplace meditation, and blogs.

“Sounds like you’ve found your sweet spot,” he responded.

Finding your "sweet spot," whether
in tennis, golf - or life - can make
all the difference in how things turn out.

It’s been years since I played tennis, but the term sounded right. I knew when I hit the sweet spot on my racquet – which was infrequent – I had a good chance of having the ball go exactly where I intended. In a similar way, after decades of training, experience, success and failure, I believe God has taken my career exactly where He’s intended for it to go.

Sadly, not everyone can say the same. In fact, studies indicate more than half of all workers dislike or even dread their jobs. They show up each day because they need to pay the bills, not because they want to be there. “Work is a necessary evil,” the mantra informs us. For many people, that seems true, but it doesn’t have to be.

In The Heart of Mentoring, the book David Stoddard and I co-authored, we talk about aligning passion with work. What lights your inner fire? What pursuits infuse you with enthusiasm and energy? Or to borrow my new friend’s words, “What’s your sweet spot?”

Once you’ve identified that, you can try to match those things with your work in some way, either by redefining your job responsibilities or setting a goal of finding a new job that more closely relates to the things you’re most passionate about.

I understand in today’s uncertain economy, with limited employment options, that’s easier said than done. But I can’t think of many things more debilitating than having to pull yourself out of bed day after day and getting ready for a job you hate. Do you think Thomas Edison got up each morning and muttered, “Do I have to mess with light bulbs again”? Or Mother Teresa grumbled, “Another day of fussing with poor, dying people”? Or Michelangelo complained, “I don’t think I can stand painting another ceiling or sculpting another statue”?

They, and many others we could name, found their own “sweet spots.” Whether they recognized it or not, they had discovered God’s calling on their lives and pursued it with gusto, determination and passion.

Maybe you’re thinking, “But how do I find my sweet spot?” or “I know my sweet spot, but there’s no place for it where I work right now.” I can appreciate your frustration, even discouragement. There have been times in my career when I felt the same way.

However, I firmly believe God has a special, individualized plan for each of us – including the work we do. If we’re willing to include Him in this quest to link our passions with what we do for a livelihood, He’ll guide us in the right direction. After all, we have promises like these from the Scriptures:

“Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He will bring it to pass” (Psalm 37:4-5).

“Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established” (Proverbs 16:3).

There you have it: Delight in the Lord, first and foremost, and commit your work to Him, seeking to honor Him through it. If you do that, He’ll do one of two things – direct you to a different job, more suited for what He designed you to do, or transform your attitude toward the job you have so you’ll start to regard it as a blessing rather than a curse.