Dear reader, I want you to know that just because I write of God’s mercy and love, His ever-present help, and His faithfulness does not mean I have everything figured out. I have strings of days of chronic anxiety and intrusive thoughts that push me to the conclusion that I cannot go on one more day. Little stressors build into bigger ones, and I explode into loud, frustrating sobs. It happened this past week. I grow angry from nagging, worrisome thoughts. I become exhausted, trying day by day to keep myself from being swept away by the ferocity of mood swings. When I cry out to God, I sound like a spoiled, selfish child. “Why me? What more do You want from me?! Haven’t I suffered enough?”

I become fed up and worn down with having to endure mental anguish. Mental anguish is the only word I have to describe how my mind operates sometimes. I long for chronic anxiety and depression and ever-returning panic attacks to magically become fleeting and situational. I yearn for a brain different from the one I was given. A brain that is slow to worry, slow to anger and rolls with the punches. A brain that can handle stress like a “normal” person.  Everyone else seems happy and content. Everyone else I know can carry on when obstacles come their way. 

“I suppose that some brethren neither have much elevation or depression. I could almost wish to share their peaceful life. For I am much tossed up and down, and although my joy is greater than the most of men, my depression of spirit is such as few can have an idea of.” -Charles Spurgeon

I find myself whole-heartedly agreeing with Spurgeon in his plight with depression. I’m praying for something, anything else, to endure. If this is the cross I bear daily, I want a do-over, a different cross. My most resounding cry to God becomes,

“You know everything I must go through. You know how my brain functions and how hard it is to endure strong negative thoughts and emotions. What did I do to deserve this?”

I don’t know for certain, but I can’t help but think that Joni Eareckson Tada asked this question at one point in her journey through hard suffering. I recently re-read her book, A Lifetime of Wisdom: Embracing the Way God Heals You, and I think my golden nuggets are like the hard-won rubies she writes about.

Joni became paralyzed as a 17-year-old girl after diving into shallow water. In an instant, she was given a permanent disability. This sporty, energetic teen was now living life in a wheelchair as a person with quadriplegia. In her book, she describes the physical and mental pain that became a massive part of her life. She was devastated and, at times, didn’t want to go on. What did she do to deserve this? 

Reflecting on the event that changed her life and the journey that followed, Joni describes wisdom — “insights into the nature of God and the ways of life” — as hard-won rubies. These precious gems came as “breakthroughs in understanding” how God has used her “through long years of seeking God, waiting on God, and trusting Him through the most difficult and heartbreaking circumstances of life.”

No one in the Bible is immune from profound suffering and even agony. Not even Jesus Christ.

”. . . he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, ‘My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. . .” Matt 26:37-38 (ESV)

The book of Psalms is rife with David’s laments. Habakkuk watches and waits as he angrily asks God tough questions. Joni references Job, who was well acquainted with suffering and asked God many difficult questions.

”Tell me, what have I done wrong? Show me my rebellion and my sin. Why do you turn away from me? Why do you treat me as your enemy? Would you terrify a leaf blown by the wind? Would you chase dry straw? You write bitter accusations against me and bring up all the sins of my youth. You put my feet in stocks, You examine all my paths. You trace all my footprints. I waste away like rotting wood, like a moth-eaten coat.” Job 13:23-28 NLT

“My days are over. My hopes have disappeared. My heart’s desires are broken.” Job 17:11 NLT

Jeremiah also was well acquainted with sorrow and hopelessness.

”He has filled me with bitterness and given me a bitter cup of sorrow to drink.” Lamentations 3:15 NLT

“The thought of my suffering and homelessness is bitter beyond words.” Lamentations 3:19 NLT

Have you ever felt hopeless like Job or Jeremiah? I have, and I think Joni has, too. I am not comparing my experiences directly to these people, but I am trying to convey the deep sorrow I have endured for years because of my broken brain, my sinful flesh, and my living in a broken world. I thought (and sometimes still think) I was alone; no one has suffered like I have. 

When I read Joni’s book, I knew she felt pain like I did, even though we had endured very different things. This helps me read stories about Biblical characters like Job and Jeremiah and find comfort in knowing they have suffered greatly, too. 

There is a common thread that runs through sufferers like us. We are struck down, given horrible diseases, and robbed of happiness and contentment, but we wouldn’t trade all that suffering for anything. You might not be there yet, but I pray you will be.

Joni paraphrases Job’s response to his afflictions well when she says, “Job is saying, ‘Even though I may never understand why God has done what He has done, or why he has allowed these things to happen to me. He is worthy of my trust and my hope, and however this turns out, it will be for my salvation.”

Joni helped me answer a tough question that took me many years to even approach: What have I gained through my trials? Not just the ones from the distant past, but even ones from earlier today? 

I have gained wisdom from God, which has helped me endure the chronic disdain for how my brain functions. I can better help others in their grief and suffering because I have been there, too. I have learned how to give thanks for my numerous blessings in Christ. I have gained the confidence to say, like Peter (and many other suffering saints), that I will “be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though [we] must endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that [our] faith is genuine.” (1 Peter 1:6-7)

Though at one time I thought it a platitude, I can view this quote from Joni as a wonderful ruby of wisdom and encouragement, 

”… what I have endured in my wheelchair for over forty years was time well spent.” 

Through deep suffering, I have tasted and seen Jesus’s love and compassion more clearly, and like Joni, Job, Jeremiah, or Habakkuk, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign Lord is my strength!” Habakkuk 3:17-19 (emphasis added)

”I will never forget this awful time as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.” Lamentations 3:20-23 (emphasis added)

Discovering shimmering rubies or golden nuggets of God-healing wisdom is like searching for a clear view of the stars and the breathtaking outline of the Milky Way galaxy. Everywhere I have lived, the sky has been polluted with manufactured light. I yearn to see more stars in a purer night sky. So I search and search for the right place to view the work of His hand. I go out, away from the distraction of chaos, to get a new perspective on the beauty of the stars. It is a long journey, and getting there is not easy. It’s a sacrificial search that takes time. But when I get to a spot of pure night sky, when my eyes are so full of wonder and beauty, and my mouth can do nothing but gape, when the streak of the Milky Way gives me an awed perspective, I can do nothing but hold my hands palm-up and say, 

“What did I do to deserve this?”

Heavenly Father, as we cry out to You, “What did I do to deserve this?” with an angry fist and a furrowed brow, may we continually seek after Your glorious face. Then, even in unchanged circumstances from the first cry, may we whisper praise with warm, grateful confidence, “What did I do to deserve this?” You are worthy of all our praise. In Jesus’ name, Amen.