Deeper Longings with Kelly
7 July 2020
Hi Redemption Hill Church. My name is Kelly. I’m a member in the third congregation.
Have you ever had seasons where every other day comes in the form of a new setback, where circumstances make you feel like you just can’t live like this for the rest of your life?
The past year has been, and continues to be, a bit of that for me – my emotions ebb and flow daily in response to crushed dreams, broken relationships, unmet longings.
In my ideal world, I would have finished grad school in flying colors and landed a job as a foreign correspondent somewhere in East Asia, telling stories that matter to people.
In reality, though, my grad school experience all but showed me the gaps in my craft as a journalist, previously-acquired credentials notwithstanding. I applied for many times more jobs than I ever have in my adult life, but got nowhere close to my dream.
Back in Singapore, the past three months have been trying as my already ailing father’s condition took a turn for the worse. He was recently diagnosed with end stage renal failure, and on top of multiple chronic illnesses. We’re still trying to get used to dialysis as part of life – his, and ours. Unfortunately, he remains the stubborn and demanding patient, not doing his part to take charge of his health.
Add to that decades-long, difficult relationships among other members in the family, and my fears of the ongoing pandemic striking us directly – especially my vulnerable parent.
Trips to the A&E in the wee hours have become part of my everyday life, as have hearing others in the house relieve frustration by complaining, crying, railing at each other.
It’s been frustrating and destabilising, to say the least.
I cry to God, asking why he had to deal me one trial after another and for deliverance from this thorn in my flesh.
As I sit with my despair and loneliness, though, I am reminded that God has sustained me thus far. As he shows me humanity’s fallenness through myself and my family, he is also helping me take stock and give thanks for his work in my life, which I’ve often overlooked – from having a shelter over my head, to how he has shaped certain traits in my life in ways I couldn’t have done in my own strength before I became a Christian.
As I sit feeling weak and worn out, I’m reminded also that Jesus taught us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” When my struggles feel heavy and endless, they force me to trust God day by day, breath by breath.
Whatever strength we need for the day, he will give to us, and it will be enough. Whatever he doesn’t give to us, we don’t need it for the day.
In that same chapter in Matthew’s gospel, he tells us not to be anxious about the future, or even tomorrow, because “sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matthew 6:34).
But also God tells us, as he told Paul while he was lamenting the thorn in his flesh, that God’s grace is sufficient for us and his strength perfected in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).
Will my father respond better to us? Will my family be reconciled? Will they ever come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ? Will I have the chance to tell stories in a land that means so much to me? I don’t know.
But I know that our futures are not in our hands. There is a masterful Storyteller who writes only the best story – we already know how it ends, even if we do not see it just yet.
Therein lies the answer to our deepest longings.
God doesn’t assure us that our circumstances will change today, tomorrow, or ever, in our mortal lives. But he assures us that he will help us endure today, and asks that we trust him for tomorrow.
Dear heavenly Father, thank you for reminding us of how fallen this world is, how broken we all are, and how much we need you.
We need your help today. In the midst of rapidly changing circumstances, help us to fix our eyes on the unchanging Lord – Christ who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8).
Give us strength to live each day – to rejoice on those where you do far more abundantly than we ask or imagine, but to also rejoice on the stormy days, knowing that you will sustain us, and that our troubles are light and momentary in relation to eternity’s glory.
Help us experience a deep and confident joy in you every day.
I close with part of this puritan prayer from The Valley of Vision.
Let me find Thy light in my darkness,
Thy life in my death,
Thy joy in my sorrow,
Thy grace in my sin,
Thy riches in my poverty
Thy glory in my valley.
Amen.