It's Not About Me - Max Lucado [26]
What these do for artifacts, the blind man did for Christ. He was the frame in which Jesus’ power was seen, the stand upon which Jesus’ miracle was placed. Born sightless to display heaven’s strength. Do you suppose the sight of his sight showcased the work of Christ?
IS THERE ANY CHANCE,
ANY POSSIBILITY, THAT
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED
TO STRUGGLE FOR
GOD’S GLORY?
And the fading pulse and final breath of Lazarus? You think the news of a three-days-dead man walking out of a tomb amplified God’s power?
And you? Now it gets a bit sticky.What about your struggles? Is there any chance, any possibility, that you have been selected to struggle for God’s glory? Have you “been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake” (Philippians 1:29)?
Here is a clue. Do your prayers seem to be unanswered? What you request and what you receive aren’t matching up? Don’t think God is not listening. Indeed he is. He may have higher plans.
Here is another. Are people strengthened by your struggles? A friend of mine can answer yes. His cancer was consuming more than his body; it was eating away at his faith. Unanswered petitions perplexed him. Well-meaning Christians confused him.“If you have faith,” they said,“you will be healed.”
No healing came. Just more chemo, nausea, and questions. He assumed the fault was a small faith. I suggested another answer.“It’s not about you,” I told him.“Your hospital room is a showcase for your Maker. Your faith in the face of suffering cranks up the volume of God’s song.”
Oh, that you could have seen the relief on his face. To know that he hadn’t failed God and God hadn’t failed him—this made all the difference. Seeing his sickness in the scope of God’s sovereign plan gave his condition a sense of dignity. He accepted his cancer as an assignment from heaven: a missionary to the cancer ward. A week later I saw him again. “I reflected God,” he said, smiling through a thin face, “to the nurses, the doctors, my friends.Who knows who needed to see God, but I did my best to make him seen.”
Bingo. His cancer paraded the power of Jesus down the Main Street of his world. He, the blind man, Lazarus, and millions of others form a unique society: selected to suffer for God’s glory. His light prisms through their aching lives and spills forth in a cascade of colors. God-glimpses.
God will use whatever he wants to display his glory. Heavens and stars. History and nations. People and problems. A kidnapped couple in the Philippines. My dying dad in West Texas.
The last three years of his life were scarred by ALS. The disease took him from a healthy mechanic to a bedbound paralytic. He lost his voice and his muscles, but he never lost his faith. Visitors noticed. Not so much in what he said but more in what he didn’t say. Never outwardly angry or bitter, Jack Lucado suffered stately.
YOUR FAITH IN THE
FACE OF SUFFERING
CRANKS UP THE VOLUME
OF GOD’S SONG.
His faith led one man to seek a like faith. After the funeral this man sought me out and told me. Because of my dad’s example, he became a Jesus follower.
Did God orchestrate my father’s illness for that very reason? Knowing the value he places on one soul, I wouldn’t be surprised. And imagining the splendor of heaven, I know my father’s not complaining.
A season of suffering is a small assignment when compared to the reward.
Rather than begrudge your problem, explore it. Ponder it. And most of all, use it. Use it to the glory of God.
Martin and Gracia did.
During their captivity, they not only spoke of Jesus, they lived Jesus. Didn’t complain. Did their work and volunteered for more. Chained every night to a guard, Martin always wished his captors a good night and told them about Jesus. The Burnhams allowed God to use their suffering for his glory.
Because of Martin’s death, nations around the world heard the name of Christ. I heard the report on a London, England, news channel. Millions saw the forbearing figure of his wife and heard a moving interview with his father, who said God