**Trigger Warning** This post contains language of mental health disorders, self-harm, and suicidal ideation. Reader’s discretion is advised. If you are in crisis, please call, text or chat with the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273 TALK (8255), or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741

”The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.”- Matthew 13:44 (NIV)

”We must buy the field.” – Elisabeth Elliot, Be Still My Soul (Reflections on Living the Christian Life)

I first learned about Elisabeth Elliot through the story of her first husband, Jim Elliot. Jim and Elisabeth, a young married couple with a little daughter, set out to the remote jungle of Ecuador to bring the Gospel to the Huaroani people. In January of 1956, Jim and his partners were all killed during their first attempt to meet and greet the indigenous tribe physically. Jim Elliot’s story was an incredibly inspiring one. It is a story of constancy, deep faith, hope, and true love. Elisabeth used her unique experience of deep sorrow to continue that story and show the world (even those who killed her husband) the love of Jesus Christ. I discovered her writing while in college, wrestling with my faith and learning more about Jesus.

However, I only recently started reading her book, which is quoted above. When I got to the chapter “Longsuffering Love,” oh, man, it hit me right in the face with a fragrant joy of what wonderful suffering I have experienced in Christ. Her words helped me to remember that I do not suffer in vain.

”We respond [to suffering] according to our temperaments. Some cast about for solutions, stew, fret, rage, deny the facts. Some sink into an oblivion of self-recrimination or pity. Some chalk it all up to somebody else’s fault. Some pray. But all of us are tempted to conclude that because we are uncomfortable, God doesn’t love us (110-111).”

I was responding in all of those ways.
For as long as I can remember, I have had horrible and oftentimes debilitating anxiety. Even as a young child, my fear and worry were not typical of a child my age. I had, and still have, problems with controlling and decreasing excessive fear and worry of actual or perceived threats. This incessant, intense anxiety led to deep depression. I felt hopeless and worthless for weeks, months on end. I tried the “fake it til you make it” approach, I saw a therapist and psychiatrist, and I tried getting out in the sun more for some vitamin D. I fretted over how people perceived me as a person, teacher, and musician. I tried to stuff it all down and keep my chin up. I isolated myself. The words “nobody cares” were repeated in my mind. I scoffed at other people and their insignificant problems. Mine were worse. I prayed for a new brain; I prayed for the sorrow to exit my life completely, and I prayed for death. I 100% concluded many times that God did not and could not love me.

I still respond to events in negative ways sometimes, but I have a different perspective now.

Matthew 13:44 is a very short parable that carries so much weight and beauty. I have felt this parable to be one of great importance in my heart, but I haven’t always understood it completely. What kind of field was it? Why did the man hide the treasure again? Then, this chapter of Elisabeth’s book opened my eyes to more questions, which in turn brought joy rather than confusion.

What does my field, the field I can see, look like? It looks like dry, rocky, barren land wherein no life grows. It looks dark and uninviting. There’s barbed wire strewn about haphazardly, so you better watch your step! My field is full of pits of pain, thorns that stick in my side as I walk through it, a fog of worthlessness. My field is void of good music, happiness, and hope. There isn’t a soul in sight. I was sure no treasure could be found here.

“Our problems cannot always be fixed, but they can always be accepted as the very will of God for now, and that turns them into something beautiful (111).”

I didn’t accept my field in an instant. Like the golden nuggets (see first blog post), it took time and little pieces of encouragement here and there to show me the way to the treasure. No switch flipped. A little light was beginning to slowly flood my eyes to see the gleaming hues of the treasure. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but I kept reading scripture, listening to fellow saints, singing, and praying and asking for prayer. The treasure became more apparent as I grew to know Jesus and trusted in His presence. The field was still as I first described, but the treasure compelled me to embrace that field. I bought the field when I sobbed all night long but lifted those sobs to God. I bought the field when I wanted to harm myself but prayed angrily for help instead. I bought the field when I listened to the truth my sweet husband spoke over me that Christ deeply loved me. I bought the field when I told my therapist I couldn’t endure therapy anymore, but I came back the following week.

Remember, I said that my perspective has changed. It continues to change as I walk through sorrow with Jesus. The thorns are still there, but they remind me of the joyous treasure in the heart of that place. The barbed wire hasn’t gone away, but praise God for helping me navigate around it. The fog has lifted. There is some good music, and I am inviting people into my field now.

I say (write) the following in the most genuine, deeply profound way I can. Sitting in and looking at that ugly field for so long has been incredibly worth it. I am not perfect. I am broken and sinful. I also have a thorny brain that leads me down a path of despondency from time to time. But all glory to God for His steadfast help leading me toward the treasure.

Heavenly Father, I pray that whoever may stumble upon this post is encouraged to buy the field because they found the treasure that is You. I pray for those who can only see a nasty field right now. May they trust in Your unfailing love to guide them to Jesus Christ, the greatest joy. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

”We must buy the field. It is no sun-drenched meadow embroidered with wildflowers. It is a bleak and empty place, but once we know it contains a jewel the whole picture changes. The empty scrap of forgotten land suddenly teems with possibilities. Here is something we can not only accept, but something worth selling everything to buy.” – Elisabeth Elliot, Be Still My Soul

Thank you God for Elisabeth Elliot. Such beautiful words.

”For you have been given not only the privilege of trusting in Christ but also the privilege of suffering for him.” – Phil. 1:29 (NLT)