My spiritual high Monday, which involved an irresistible urge to pray all day long, was a day which produced an unexpected miracle cluster. My daughter Maddie is like the lion in the Wizard of Oz who found his courage. She was hired for a position which represents a significant raise and promotion; she earned it by working hard far below her pay level for years. My daughter Emily — like the scarecrow who had a brain, after all — landed a high-paying job the same day she quit a job in which she was unmercifully used and worked much like a slave in management. Funds I’ve been waiting for were released to me, and I got hired by a generous employer who actually believes writers should get paid well for the difficult job of writing. It was a river of relief that seemed as simple as a snap, like when all Dorothy had to do to get her heart’s desire was to tap her slippers three times and say, “I want to go home.”
But my financial relief and physically taxing relief aren’t quite here; and, sparing the details, the pressure on me could be compared to being that wicked witch that was unfortunate enough to have a house land on her.
In moments like this, though dramatic, I think of all that Jesus suffered when he was beaten and hung on the cross. The movie The Passion of the Christ gives a glimpse of what our Savior suffered through. But the result of all that horrific difficulty and pain was a glorious resurrection and the opening of a stairway to heaven for all who believe in the Son of God.
Through my wincing, I believe that on the other side of this trial is an even bigger breakthrough than what my family experienced on Monday. God is good, and He doesn’t let His children suffer without good reason. The life of a Christian is a life of purpose which puts an anticipation of joy into every sweat drop of human suffering. My rejoicing by faith doesn’t look like much on the outside right now; but on the inside, I’m giving God and His goodness a standing ovation.