I always wonder about Judas...
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Photographer: Sacred Destinations of Flickr under a CC2.0 license.
Surprised by Suffering: Book Review (summary)
This is a summary of R. C. Sproul's book, Surprised by Suffering. For a more condensed review of the book, please follow the link.
Surprised by Suffering by R. C. Sproul, founder and chairman of Ligionier Ministries, is a “revised and expanded” 2009 reprint of the book by the same title. In its preface, Sproul addresses his readers “that you would not be surprised when suffering comes into your life. I want you to see that suffering is not at all uncommon, but also that it is not random—it is sent by our heavenly Father, who is both sovereign and loving, for our ultimate good.” This, along with the title of the book, prepared me for a discussion of the theology of suffering, “that suffering is a vocation, a calling from God.” However, while theologically solid and Scripture-infused, Surprised by Suffering is unsure of its message and audience. Sometimes it reads as a primer on the theology of suffering and sometimes it becomes eschatological discussion; sometimes it assumes familiarity with Christian terms and at other times it doesn’t; sometimes it is an encouragement to faithful Christians and at other times takes a tract-style approach to the Gospel.
The strength of Surprised by Suffering lies in its first four chapters, in which Sproul examines the theology of suffering. He takes an honest look at Scripture and at the world, quickly admitting the existence of suffering, and warns, “The zealous person who promises us a life free from suffering has found his message from a source other than Scripture.” To prove that Scripture indeed carries this message, Sproul provides and explains examples from 1 Peter 4, Colossians 1:24, 1 Peter 1:6-9, and a myriad of other sources. From these verses, Sproul teaches “how it is possible to be perplexed but not in despair,” and that “our suffering has a purpose—it helps us toward the end of our faith, which is the salvation of our souls.” Chapter 2 looks at Christ Himself, who walked “the via dolorosa.” He points that “our Savior was a suffering Savior” who “went before us into the uncharted land of agony and death” and looks at the proper response of the church to imitate Christ as the bride of Christ, participating in His suffering yet adding nothing to His merit. In Chapter 3 Sproul examines Job as a case study in suffering, discussing the relationship of sin, suffering, and God’s Sovereignty in the midst of trial. Sproul challenges Christians to continue on the “pilgrimage [that] moves from faith to faith, from strength to strength, and from grace to grace,” even when “ironically, the progress passes through suffering and tribulation.” Chapter 4, not included in the original publication of the book, finishes Sproul’s discussion of suffering by considering its purpose. While admitting that “the Sovereignty of God is one of the most difficult doctrines to get in one’s bloodstream,” Sproul argues that we can trust that God is Sovereign even during our suffering. He points the reader to Ecclesiastes 7:2-4 and explains why it is “better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting” because such a trip leads to wisdom.
While the first 4 chapters act as a primer on the theology of suffering and serve what I believe to be the strength of the book, the last 6 chapters read like a primer on the theology of death and salvation. Though the book’s subtitle, “the role of pain and death in the Christian life” hinted at such a discussion, I was taken aback a bit, since this did not fit Sproul’s stated intention for the book, quoted earlier. Sproul’s use of Christian terms such as “justification” and “righteousness” without subsequent definition as well as his discussion of people “dying in their sins” as opposed to “dying in faith” (a very “turn-or-burn” approach, though Sproul does not use those words) dates Sproul as part of an older generation of evangelicals. It was at this point I checked the date of the original printing. 1988 – which explains a lot. It is not that the terms “justification” and “righteousness” have fallen out of use (at least not rightfully) or that “turn-or-burn” is a very real message with very real consequences, but rather it has come to the attention of many that it is important to define theological terms to the unchurched as well as explain that there is joy and intimacy to be found with Christ, not just fire insurance. While I believe that Sproul would agree, these are simply not points that come across in his writing. As opposed to a discussion of the theology of suffering for believers and “seekers,” this section is a hodgepodge of Gospel tract and eschatology. Among other things, the latter includes affirmation of the intermediate state, denial of the existence of Purgatory, and a comparison of the resurrected body to the “natural” body. Chapter 10 finally returns to the theme of Christian suffering and finishes with Scripture about heaven and the promise of glory in heaven that promises, “that…our suffering is never, never, never in vain.”
I would recommend the first 4 chapters, the 10th chapter, and the section on “Questions and Answers” for Christians struggling with suffering (and their Christian friends). In these sections, Sproul provides much biblical wisdom into the nature and calling of suffering. However, Christians, particularly those with strong church backgrounds, may find the rest of the book mildly interesting but unhelpful during trial. I would not recommend this book for non-Christians, both “unchurched” and some “de-churched,” as Sproul assumes a certain level of familiarity with the Bible from his readers, with the exception of his tract-style presentation of the Gospel located in the middle of the book, which even most non-Christians are bound to have heard before. Three out of five stars.
FTC Disclosure: I received a free copy of the book “Surprised by Suffering” from the publisher, Reformation Trust, in exchange for this book review, which was required to be “serious, substantive and fair.” The publisher did not require a positive review.
Surprised it's not entirely about the theology of suffering
Surprised by Suffering by R. C. Sproul, founder and chairman of Ligionier Ministries, is a “revised and expanded” 2009 reprint of the book by the same title. In its preface, Sproul addresses his readers “that you would not be surprised when suffering comes into your life. I want you to see that suffering is not at all uncommon, but also that it is not random—it is sent by our heavenly Father, who is both sovereign and loving, for our ultimate good.” This, along with the title of the book, prepared me for a discussion of the theology of suffering, “that suffering is a vocation, a calling from God.” However, while theologically solid and Scripture-infused, Surprised by Suffering is unsure of its message and audience. Sometimes it reads as a primer on the theology of suffering and sometimes it becomes eschatological discussion; sometimes it assumes familiarity with Christian terms and at other times it doesn’t; sometimes it is an encouragement to faithful Christians and at other times takes a tract-style approach to the Gospel.
The strength of Surprised by Suffering lies in its first four chapters, in which Sproul examines the theology of suffering. He takes an honest look at Scripture and at the world, quickly admitting the existence of suffering, and warns, “The zealous person who promises us a life free from suffering has found his message from a source other than Scripture.” To prove that Scripture indeed carries this message, Sproul provides and explains examples from 1 Peter 4, Colossians 1:24, 1 Peter 1:6-9, and a myriad of other sources. From these verses, Sproul teaches “how it is possible to be perplexed but not in despair,” and that “our suffering has a purpose—it helps us toward the end of our faith, which is the salvation of our souls.” Chapter 2 looks at Christ Himself, who walked “the via dolorosa.” He points that “our Savior was a suffering Savior” who “went before us into the uncharted land of agony and death” and looks at the proper response of the church to imitate Christ as the bride of Christ, participating in His suffering yet adding nothing to His merit. In Chapter 3 Sproul examines Job as a case study in suffering, discussing the relationship of sin, suffering, and God’s Sovereignty in the midst of trial. Sproul challenges Christians to continue on the “pilgrimage [that] moves from faith to faith, from strength to strength, and from grace to grace,” even when “ironically, the progress passes through suffering and tribulation.” Chapter 4, not included in the original publication of the book, finishes Sproul’s discussion of suffering by considering its purpose. While admitting that “the Sovereignty of God is one of the most difficult doctrines to get in one’s bloodstream,” Sproul argues that we can trust that God is Sovereign even during our suffering. He points the reader to Ecclesiastes 7:2-4 and explains why it is “better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting” because such a trip leads to wisdom.
While the first 4 chapters act as a primer on the theology of suffering and serve what I believe to be the strength of the book, the last 6 chapters read like a primer on the theology of death and salvation. Though the book’s subtitle, “the role of pain and death in the Christian life” hinted at such a discussion, I was taken aback a bit, since this did not fit Sproul’s stated intention for the book, quoted earlier. Sproul’s use of Christian terms such as “justification” and “righteousness” without subsequent definition as well as his discussion of people “dying in their sins” as opposed to “dying in faith” (a very “turn-or-burn” approach, though Sproul does not use those words) dates Sproul as part of an older generation of evangelicals. It was at this point I checked the date of the original printing. 1988 – which explains a lot. It is not that the terms “justification” and “righteousness” have fallen out of use (at least not rightfully) or that “turn-or-burn” is a very real message with very real consequences, but rather it has come to the attention of many that it is important to define theological terms to the unchurched as well as explain that there is joy and intimacy to be found with Christ, not just fire insurance. While I believe that Sproul would agree, these are simply not points that come across in his writing. As opposed to a discussion of the theology of suffering for believers and “seekers,” this section is a hodgepodge of Gospel tract and eschatology. Among other things, the latter includes affirmation of the intermediate state, denial of the existence of Purgatory, and a comparison of the resurrected body to the “natural” body. Chapter 10 finally returns to the theme of Christian suffering and finishes with Scripture about heaven and the promise of glory in heaven that promises, “that…our suffering is never, never, never in vain.”
I would recommend the first 4 chapters, the 10th chapter, and the section on “Questions and Answers” for Christians struggling with suffering (and their Christian friends). In these sections, Sproul provides much biblical wisdom into the nature and calling of suffering. However, Christians, particularly those with strong church backgrounds, may find the rest of the book mildly interesting but unhelpful during trial. I would not recommend this book for non-Christians, both “unchurched” and some “de-churched,” as Sproul assumes a certain level of familiarity with the Bible from his readers, with the exception of his tract-style presentation of the Gospel located in the middle of the book, which even most non-Christians are bound to have heard before. Three out of five stars.
FTC Disclosure: I received a free copy of the book “Surprised by Suffering” from the publisher, Reformation Trust, in exchange for this book review, which was required to be “serious, substantive and fair.” The publisher did not require a positive review.
Surprised by Suffering: Book Review (condensed)
This is a condensed review of R. C. Sproul's book, Surprised by Suffering. For a more complete summary of the book, please follow the link.
Surprised by Suffering by R. C. Sproul, founder and chairman of Ligionier Ministries, is a “revised and expanded” 2009 reprint of the book by the same title. In its preface, Sproul addresses his readers “that you would not be surprised when suffering comes into your life. I want you to see that suffering is not at all uncommon, but also that it is not random—it is sent by our heavenly Father, who is both sovereign and loving, for our ultimate good.” This, along with the title of the book, prepared me for a discussion of the theology of suffering, “that suffering is a vocation, a calling from God.” However, while theologically solid and Scripture-infused, Surprised by Suffering is unsure of its message and audience. Sometimes it reads as a primer on the theology of suffering and sometimes it becomes eschatological discussion; sometimes it assumes familiarity with Christian terms and at other times it doesn’t; sometimes it is an encouragement to faithful Christians and at other times takes a tract-style approach to the Gospel.
The strength of Surprised by Suffering lies in its first four chapters, where Sproul gives the clear message that “suffering is a vocation, a calling from God” and discusses its implications. He takes an honest look at Scripture and at the world, quickly admitting the existence of suffering, and warns, “The zealous person who promises us a life free from suffering has found his message from a source other than Scripture.” Deferring to Christ as the Christian’s example, Sproul points that “our Savior was a suffering Savior” who “went before us into the uncharted land of agony and death” and discusses the proper response of the church to imitate Christ as the bride of Christ, participating in His suffering yet adding nothing to His merit. Subsequent chapters, however, discuss topics tangentially related to suffering but lose focus and direction. Sproul turns from a discussion of suffering in this life to an extensive exercise in eschatology including a discussion of those “dying in faith” as opposed to “dying in sin” (a very “turn-or-burn” approach), a study of the intermediate state, a denial of Purgatory, and a comparison of the heavenly body to the “natural” body.
I would recommend the first 4 chapters, the 10th chapter, and the section on “Questions and Answers” for Christians struggling with suffering (and their Christian friends). In these sections, Sproul provides much biblical wisdom into the nature and calling of suffering. However, Christians, particularly those with strong church backgrounds, may find the rest of the book mildly interesting but unhelpful during trial. I would not recommend this book for non-Christians, both “unchurched” and some “de-churched,” as Sproul assumes a certain level of familiarity with the Bible from his readers, with the exception of his tract-style presentation of the Gospel located in the middle of the book, which even most non-Christians are bound to have heard before. Three out of five stars.
FTC Disclosure: I received a free copy of the book “Surprised by Suffering” from the publisher, Reformation Trust, in exchange for this book review, which was required to be “serious, substantive and fair.” The publisher did not require a positive review.
Surprised it's not entirely about the theology of suffering
Surprised by Suffering by R. C. Sproul, founder and chairman of Ligionier Ministries, is a “revised and expanded” 2009 reprint of the book by the same title. In its preface, Sproul addresses his readers “that you would not be surprised when suffering comes into your life. I want you to see that suffering is not at all uncommon, but also that it is not random—it is sent by our heavenly Father, who is both sovereign and loving, for our ultimate good.” This, along with the title of the book, prepared me for a discussion of the theology of suffering, “that suffering is a vocation, a calling from God.” However, while theologically solid and Scripture-infused, Surprised by Suffering is unsure of its message and audience. Sometimes it reads as a primer on the theology of suffering and sometimes it becomes eschatological discussion; sometimes it assumes familiarity with Christian terms and at other times it doesn’t; sometimes it is an encouragement to faithful Christians and at other times takes a tract-style approach to the Gospel.
The strength of Surprised by Suffering lies in its first four chapters, where Sproul gives the clear message that “suffering is a vocation, a calling from God” and discusses its implications. He takes an honest look at Scripture and at the world, quickly admitting the existence of suffering, and warns, “The zealous person who promises us a life free from suffering has found his message from a source other than Scripture.” Deferring to Christ as the Christian’s example, Sproul points that “our Savior was a suffering Savior” who “went before us into the uncharted land of agony and death” and discusses the proper response of the church to imitate Christ as the bride of Christ, participating in His suffering yet adding nothing to His merit. Subsequent chapters, however, discuss topics tangentially related to suffering but lose focus and direction. Sproul turns from a discussion of suffering in this life to an extensive exercise in eschatology including a discussion of those “dying in faith” as opposed to “dying in sin” (a very “turn-or-burn” approach), a study of the intermediate state, a denial of Purgatory, and a comparison of the heavenly body to the “natural” body.
I would recommend the first 4 chapters, the 10th chapter, and the section on “Questions and Answers” for Christians struggling with suffering (and their Christian friends). In these sections, Sproul provides much biblical wisdom into the nature and calling of suffering. However, Christians, particularly those with strong church backgrounds, may find the rest of the book mildly interesting but unhelpful during trial. I would not recommend this book for non-Christians, both “unchurched” and some “de-churched,” as Sproul assumes a certain level of familiarity with the Bible from his readers, with the exception of his tract-style presentation of the Gospel located in the middle of the book, which even most non-Christians are bound to have heard before. Three out of five stars.
FTC Disclosure: I received a free copy of the book “Surprised by Suffering” from the publisher, Reformation Trust, in exchange for this book review, which was required to be “serious, substantive and fair.” The publisher did not require a positive review.
Those who critique the amount of cream and sugar I use have it all wrong
Photographer: obr_sandro of stock.xchng
Note: a response when thinking about this webcomic.
Related: other coffee entries.
How not to feel crappy when doing the right thing
I was going to post a webcomic today. I really was. It was awesome and about coffee- you guys know how much I like coffee. But my laptop with my photo-editing software is on the fritz, and here we are. I'll try to get back to webcomics when I can.
Today I asked my community group about something that I've been struggling with lately; how does one go about serving someone when serving them looks the same as being their pawn? The action is the same, even if the "authority" is different. When a Christian serves another person, he or she does so out of love for God. Service becomes a way to demonstrate Christ's love for us. Being someone's pawn, on the other hand, is giving the authority that should be God's alone and giving that authority to someone else. Instead of being used by God, the individual is used by other people. To use perhaps tired but still relevant terms, the individual becomes consumed with "fear of man" instead of "fear of God." My community group gave me some good answers to my question. A lot of answers focused on persevering through hardship, suffering well, and having a right attitude towards earthly authority. The thing is, while encouraging, their advice didn't quite resolve the issue for me. They answered the question perfectly, but I think the reason why I still had my qualms was the same as why I struggled with the question in the first place. It was the wrong question.
Much like Will Smith's character in i, Robot, asking the right questions is often key to resolution. The right question wasn't what does service look like, but I think the question instead ought to be "How does a (hypothetical, of course) individual not feel like he or she is being used like a pawn while serving someone who treats him or her as such?" (Oh dear, I just used "ought" in a sentence. I'm becoming that kind of blogger.) Put simply, the question is "How does someone not feel like crap when they're doing the right thing?"
Maybe I didn't phrase the question that way to begin with because I didn't fully understand the situation. Or maybe I- er my hypothetical friend- didn't want to admit to feeling used. But the most dangerous thing is an idea, and the most powerful ideas come from feelings, even the feelings we intellectually know are wrong. But after thinking things through, maybe "being used" isn't such a bad thing after all. It grates against our sense of autonomy, but doesn't everything in the Christian faith? As always, Christ is our example, and He Himself was "poured out" for us. If you think about it, we "used" His blood. But that's not a bad thing. In fact, it was a beautiful act of service 1) according to the will of the Father 2) according to the joy set before Him and 3) for our benefit. I guess that puts service in a different light.
I'm not advocating constructing a "martyr" identify for oneself. People who point to their suffering and boast of how Christ-like they are consider themselves their own standard of holiness. They forget about Christ's selflessness and love in the midst of His suffering. He was raised up on the cross, not so everyone could see Him and see how awesome He was, but rather as a mockery and a warning to others. It was not until later He was raised up to the right hand of God.
Instead, what I'm advocating is a heart that wants to serve God, no matter the consequence. Often that means serving others, and sometimes that means serving others to the point that they take advantage of your service. But that's OK. Because the goal isn't pleasing ourselves and the goal isn't pleasing the other person; the goal is to please God.
Today I asked my community group about something that I've been struggling with lately; how does one go about serving someone when serving them looks the same as being their pawn? The action is the same, even if the "authority" is different. When a Christian serves another person, he or she does so out of love for God. Service becomes a way to demonstrate Christ's love for us. Being someone's pawn, on the other hand, is giving the authority that should be God's alone and giving that authority to someone else. Instead of being used by God, the individual is used by other people. To use perhaps tired but still relevant terms, the individual becomes consumed with "fear of man" instead of "fear of God." My community group gave me some good answers to my question. A lot of answers focused on persevering through hardship, suffering well, and having a right attitude towards earthly authority. The thing is, while encouraging, their advice didn't quite resolve the issue for me. They answered the question perfectly, but I think the reason why I still had my qualms was the same as why I struggled with the question in the first place. It was the wrong question.
Much like Will Smith's character in i, Robot, asking the right questions is often key to resolution. The right question wasn't what does service look like, but I think the question instead ought to be "How does a (hypothetical, of course) individual not feel like he or she is being used like a pawn while serving someone who treats him or her as such?" (Oh dear, I just used "ought" in a sentence. I'm becoming that kind of blogger.) Put simply, the question is "How does someone not feel like crap when they're doing the right thing?"
Maybe I didn't phrase the question that way to begin with because I didn't fully understand the situation. Or maybe I- er my hypothetical friend- didn't want to admit to feeling used. But the most dangerous thing is an idea, and the most powerful ideas come from feelings, even the feelings we intellectually know are wrong. But after thinking things through, maybe "being used" isn't such a bad thing after all. It grates against our sense of autonomy, but doesn't everything in the Christian faith? As always, Christ is our example, and He Himself was "poured out" for us. If you think about it, we "used" His blood. But that's not a bad thing. In fact, it was a beautiful act of service 1) according to the will of the Father 2) according to the joy set before Him and 3) for our benefit. I guess that puts service in a different light.
I'm not advocating constructing a "martyr" identify for oneself. People who point to their suffering and boast of how Christ-like they are consider themselves their own standard of holiness. They forget about Christ's selflessness and love in the midst of His suffering. He was raised up on the cross, not so everyone could see Him and see how awesome He was, but rather as a mockery and a warning to others. It was not until later He was raised up to the right hand of God.
Instead, what I'm advocating is a heart that wants to serve God, no matter the consequence. Often that means serving others, and sometimes that means serving others to the point that they take advantage of your service. But that's OK. Because the goal isn't pleasing ourselves and the goal isn't pleasing the other person; the goal is to please God.
Reality, dreams, and identity
I just finished watching Inception, which is another brilliant movie by Christopher Nolan. (Don't worry, I won't spoil anything.) But it has gotten me thinking about reality and how our dreams define us and how our identities shift based on circumstance.
I am reading a book called 1 L of a ride about navigating the first year of law school. In it, the author recommends that 1Ls (students in their first year of law school) write a list of the things that define them. Law school, he writes, changes people. People lose sight of their goals. People lose sight of themselves. It's understandable how that happens in a high-stress environment (studies show that law students have significantly higher percentages of anxiety and depression compared to the normal population, and even compared to med school students). But the problem of mistaken identity happens to everyone.
As children, our entire worlds are defined by our parents. For better or for worse, they tell us how the world operates. They tell us who we are. As we grow older, we would like to say "when I became man, I put childish things beside me," but that is not *entirely true. When we grow older, we are just defined by other things. We enter high school or college and are defined by our friends and our interests (but interests are often defined by one's friends.) Still, some are "anti-culture" and will "define themselves," but that is just subscribing to a different sort of culture. Later, people become defined by their jobs. Their vocation becomes their definition. The same happens with those who have suffered greatly or have had great success. The list goes on.
Just as others have said that "we are [chronic] idol factories," I believe that we are chronically listening to others to tell us who we are. I also think that the two are related. We either convince ourselves or allow others to convince us to exchange the truth for a lie. It is possible for lies to become our functional reality, forming the rules of our existence.
But what is true? What is honorable and praiseworthy? "Only God is Good." It is only in His presence that we can realize who and what we are. We are wretched creatures- sinners- in the hands of a justly angry but mercifully compassionate God. Just as the cure to a heart that loves idols is to learn to love God more, the cure to misplaced identity is to listen to the Spirit. It is He who allows us to cry "Abba, Father" and is the seal of our inheritance, a promise of things to come. There are many False Architects that attempt to define our realities, but if inspected by the light of Scripture, we can root out the liars and let the Great Author have His story back.
*obviously, I'm referring to the sentiment, not the Bible verse.
I am reading a book called 1 L of a ride about navigating the first year of law school. In it, the author recommends that 1Ls (students in their first year of law school) write a list of the things that define them. Law school, he writes, changes people. People lose sight of their goals. People lose sight of themselves. It's understandable how that happens in a high-stress environment (studies show that law students have significantly higher percentages of anxiety and depression compared to the normal population, and even compared to med school students). But the problem of mistaken identity happens to everyone.
As children, our entire worlds are defined by our parents. For better or for worse, they tell us how the world operates. They tell us who we are. As we grow older, we would like to say "when I became man, I put childish things beside me," but that is not *entirely true. When we grow older, we are just defined by other things. We enter high school or college and are defined by our friends and our interests (but interests are often defined by one's friends.) Still, some are "anti-culture" and will "define themselves," but that is just subscribing to a different sort of culture. Later, people become defined by their jobs. Their vocation becomes their definition. The same happens with those who have suffered greatly or have had great success. The list goes on.
Just as others have said that "we are [chronic] idol factories," I believe that we are chronically listening to others to tell us who we are. I also think that the two are related. We either convince ourselves or allow others to convince us to exchange the truth for a lie. It is possible for lies to become our functional reality, forming the rules of our existence.
But what is true? What is honorable and praiseworthy? "Only God is Good." It is only in His presence that we can realize who and what we are. We are wretched creatures- sinners- in the hands of a justly angry but mercifully compassionate God. Just as the cure to a heart that loves idols is to learn to love God more, the cure to misplaced identity is to listen to the Spirit. It is He who allows us to cry "Abba, Father" and is the seal of our inheritance, a promise of things to come. There are many False Architects that attempt to define our realities, but if inspected by the light of Scripture, we can root out the liars and let the Great Author have His story back.
*obviously, I'm referring to the sentiment, not the Bible verse.
"The Joy of the Lord is my strength"
I used to think that joy was something God gave us, which it is, but I used to think about it like this:
(Please forgive the image quality. I would use Flash if 1) I believed in buying expensive software or 2) I believed in getting pirated software, but I believe in neither.)
I used to think that God would give us a piece of His joy, but instead I think of it differently now. What if instead of giving us a piece, God gave us His own joy? I think God speaks to us where we are, but at the same time, isn't the ultimate goal fellowship with Him? Then, what's His becomes ours. I don't mean to say that we become God (which some people may try to convince you of), but instead, we share in what's God's. God doesn't simply give us a piece of His joy, but rather His joy becomes our joy in the same way that His Spirit becomes ours connecting us to The Vine, the same way that Christ's inheritance becomes ours and we are heirs as sons, or the same way that the Father God becomes our Father God.
In this way, our joy can become "full," not because God gives us a bigger piece, but because we get a bigger piece of God, so much so that what gives Him joy will give us joy. (The converse is true, too. Like the song verse that goes "break my heart for what breaks yours," when we have this sort of communion with God, we start to look at our sin differently, as well.) This changes the way we look at our struggles. Instead of looking at things like TS or moving to a new city or an overblown eczema problem, if I can see, even a little bit, how God is glorifying Himself through my "trials of various kinds," then I can find joy. Not because I'm happy about any particular aspect of suffering, but because I know that God has some sort of plan, and in His grace, He's included me in it. I know that somehow, my situation brings God joy, and that joy can be mine.
I don't think that this is particularly theological or biblical, but rather conceptual. It's the way I've come to understand things, but as you can see, it's not quite fully developed. What do you guys think?
(Please forgive the image quality. I would use Flash if 1) I believed in buying expensive software or 2) I believed in getting pirated software, but I believe in neither.)
I used to think that God would give us a piece of His joy, but instead I think of it differently now. What if instead of giving us a piece, God gave us His own joy? I think God speaks to us where we are, but at the same time, isn't the ultimate goal fellowship with Him? Then, what's His becomes ours. I don't mean to say that we become God (which some people may try to convince you of), but instead, we share in what's God's. God doesn't simply give us a piece of His joy, but rather His joy becomes our joy in the same way that His Spirit becomes ours connecting us to The Vine, the same way that Christ's inheritance becomes ours and we are heirs as sons, or the same way that the Father God becomes our Father God.
In this way, our joy can become "full," not because God gives us a bigger piece, but because we get a bigger piece of God, so much so that what gives Him joy will give us joy. (The converse is true, too. Like the song verse that goes "break my heart for what breaks yours," when we have this sort of communion with God, we start to look at our sin differently, as well.) This changes the way we look at our struggles. Instead of looking at things like TS or moving to a new city or an overblown eczema problem, if I can see, even a little bit, how God is glorifying Himself through my "trials of various kinds," then I can find joy. Not because I'm happy about any particular aspect of suffering, but because I know that God has some sort of plan, and in His grace, He's included me in it. I know that somehow, my situation brings God joy, and that joy can be mine.
I don't think that this is particularly theological or biblical, but rather conceptual. It's the way I've come to understand things, but as you can see, it's not quite fully developed. What do you guys think?
6:30 Wakeup Call
Sorry for no post on Monday. I've been traveling between my old place and my new place and thinking about a lot. I have some post ideas, but they're too complicated for a simple webcomic. Or maybe I'm not good enough to condense them. Or maybe it's because I woke up at 6:30 this morning screaming in pain. (But wait, that's not a TS symptom! Yes, I know.) All I know is that for some reason my body decided to have a severe eczema attack at 6:30 in the morning. My hypothesis is that since my TS medication had a built-in anti-histamine, my body may have gotten used to it, and now that I'm off the medication, my skin is hyper-sensitive or something. (Well, I never said it was a good hypothesis.) My skin has been on fire, and it legitimately hurts. I took a couple benedryl to help with the symptoms. Doctors say that the anti-histamine will calm the itching, but really, all it does is to knock you out for the worst of it- not that I'm complaining. I fell asleep and woke up naturally...at 1:30 pm. So now my skin is messed up, and so is my sleep schedule.
The thing about all this is that it pisses me off. Screaming in pain because your skin itches has got to be the lamest thing ever. You might see a TV show that has someone with Asperger's (Parenthood), or a TV show with a character who has TS (there's one people keep telling me about, but I forget the name), or even someone with severe OCD (Monk, Glee). But eczema? That's just dumb. I just have lots of random medical issues. None of them are particularly terrible or life-threatening. It just gets horribly annoying after awhile.
Nothing particularly spiritual or insightful today; just a bit of moping and honesty on my part. But I really am thankful for all the medical issues I don't have, even if I'm not quite at the point where I am thankful for the ones I do have. Medical issues aside, I need to remember that I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places and have received the Spirit as a seal of my inheritance as a son and coheir with Christ in the Kingdom. That's something worth smiling about, at the very least :)
The thing about all this is that it pisses me off. Screaming in pain because your skin itches has got to be the lamest thing ever. You might see a TV show that has someone with Asperger's (Parenthood), or a TV show with a character who has TS (there's one people keep telling me about, but I forget the name), or even someone with severe OCD (Monk, Glee). But eczema? That's just dumb. I just have lots of random medical issues. None of them are particularly terrible or life-threatening. It just gets horribly annoying after awhile.
Nothing particularly spiritual or insightful today; just a bit of moping and honesty on my part. But I really am thankful for all the medical issues I don't have, even if I'm not quite at the point where I am thankful for the ones I do have. Medical issues aside, I need to remember that I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places and have received the Spirit as a seal of my inheritance as a son and coheir with Christ in the Kingdom. That's something worth smiling about, at the very least :)
Tourette Syndrome Experiment
A month ago I announced that I was starting an experiment, and I would announce the results in a month if successful or earlier if it proved unsuccessful. Well, clearly a month has passed without any news, and I can now say that the experiment was indeed successful! The experiment itself? Two months ago I started lowering the dosage of my TS medication, and for the last month I have been completely off the drug. There were minimal side effects; in fact, during the first week off the medicine, I felt fantastic. (The following inset text is mainly to satisfy my physiology background. Feel free to skip, but I'll do my best to make it easy enough for a lay person to understand):
For additional reading, see my other post on my experiences with TS.
Dopamine is a neuromodulator, which for our purposes means it is a chemical found in the brain that effects the way the brain functions. With regards to movement, it can either encourage movement or disinhibit movement (ie remove inhibition of movement, allowing for more movement). Simply, dopamine can work in different ways, but the end result is always the same- more movement. Since tics are excessive, unwanted movements, it makes sense that blocking the effects of dopamine may help alleviate the tics. ("May" is the word here because the neuroscientists and neurologists aren't entirely sure how all this works.)
The TS medication I took was primarily a dopamine type 2 receptor inhibitor, which means it blocked the effect of dopamine in certain pathways, including but not limited to the movement pathway. The thing is, dopamine is everywhere in the brain and effects a lot of things besides movement. Blocking dopamine is kind of like giving a cancer patient radiation therapy. It's hard to remove just what you want because other areas of the body become adversely affected. (It's not the best example, I know. I would never compare being a TS patient to being a cancer patient, but with the prevalence of cancer these days, I think it is something that most people can understand.) For me, the dopamine blocker did the trick; it alleviated my tics. However, the tic relief also came with many side effects. This is why I decided to see if I would be able to get off the medication.At any rate, I went through finals week and a few other stressful experiences without being on the medication. My symptoms haven't gone away; I just don't need medication to manage them right now. I've ticked here and there, but I only had one major outburst, which was understandable given the situation. I don't think medication is bad, and the possibility exists that I might need it again in the future. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Right now He's given, but if He takes away again, I'll trust that it's for the best, even if it's not the easiest. But for now I thank God that my symptoms are more or less under control, for the common grace of modern medicine, and that my family has medical insurance.
For additional reading, see my other post on my experiences with TS.
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