Hope, Gratitude, and Our Unique Portion of Pain

This past year beat the living snot out of me and my family. It felt like evil held nothing back—that it took out years of pent-up bitterness on us.

I see us attempting to get back up over and over again—and getting beat back down over and over again. I imagine us on the ground, cheeks smashed up against wet dirt, our ribs purpling with bruises, and broken teeth clicking around in our mouths.

That’s what it feels like. Another year added to our family history.

But I don’t think that’s what God saw. I think God saw us bravely face uncertainty and willingly walk into hardship.

Followers of Jesus get an extra portion of hardship when they choose to live for His Kingdom.

To be human is to suffer. Not one person on earth is exempt from the pain. We all face sickness and death. We all experience the brokenness of unjust institutions and future insecurity.

But followers of Jesus get an extra portion of hardship when they choose to live for His Kingdom.

Colossians 1:24 speaks of this type of suffering. It’s not that we run after suffering—it’s just that there is a willingness to suffer. Our willingness, however, doesn’t make the pain any less.

My family and I signed up for an added allotment of pain when we said yes to following Jesus to the Muslim world and moving to a place with no Gospel witness.

God saw us bravely face uncertainty and willingly walk into hardship.

So then, how do we get back up each time we feel beaten down? The answer is hope.

We have hope because Christ is on the throne. We have hope because He sees us. We have hope that we’re making a difference. And we have hope that things will get better.

How do we foster hope? Thankfulness.

We count our blessings—the big ones and the little ones. We lay them out before the Lord and thank Him.

My family thanks Him for answering our prayer for a babysitter who’s a perfect fit for our kids. We’re thankful to watch our children laugh together. We’re thankful for smaller treats, like clean kitchen counters and donut holes from the lady who sits on the street corner frying them up fresh.

I know that the year ahead will be better than the last.

All that gratitude is a salve for the painful moments—like when little kids throw rocks at us or when we’re treated with disdain because we come from a different country.

Suffering can push us either toward thankfulness or toward bitterness. Sometimes we’ve chosen bitterness. But we’re making conscious choices toward thankfulness.

I know that the year ahead will be better than the last—because we’ve already decided to keep showing gratitude.

We thank God for the promise of His presence through everything the next year will bring.

And we thank you for giving so that workers like us can share the hope of Christ with Muslims.