Worth It
A devotional to kick off your week
These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor.
1 Peter 1:7 NIV
“It was worth it to face cancer back then so I could encourage you today.”
I couldn’t believe the words I was saying. But as I sat across from a hurting friend, I could empathize. I, too, had faced young adult cancer and, as a result, infertility. My comment flowed without hesitation or pause. I genuinely meant it.
But as soon as I said it, it was like time stopped. Dramatic music would have begun playing had I been in a movie. I knew I’d just hit a major milestone. Life had come full circle. There was a purpose for my pain, and God was using my story to encourage others. The beautiful thing was that I wasn’t resentful or bitter. I’d found acceptance.
Faith that survives knows God will use trials to help others.
For years I’d wondered how God would redeem my difficult times. I wasn’t expecting to see hard things like cancer or infertility as good, but I also wasn’t sure how he planned to use them for good.
I’d asked God to use my pain to help others. For a long time, I saw the little glimmers of hope I gave people when they saw me standing. But in the coffee shop with my friend, God answered those prayers in a big way. I saw my story offer unique and transformative faith.
God promises that our trials won’t go to waste. Whether you’re heading into one, in the midst of one, or coming out of one, trust that there’s a purpose for your struggles. One day, the work he does in you will be what flows through you.
Breath Prayer
Inhale: Turn my trials…
Exhale: … into praise.
I have never faced cancer the way you have. But my wife Carolyn and I faced a great trial several years ago, when two of our sons suffered massive strokes that brought them to death’s door.
Then we watched as these two leaders developed old skills anew. M. is a Ph.D. in American Literature, but he had to learn to read again. J. was a naval officer, but he had to overcome the headaches that kept him in bed rather than among the people he was born to lead.
Though the stroke took away M.’s ability to walk, he has since developed to the point where he finished a 50 K last year and a 25 K last week. Though now retired from the Navy, J. is again on a ship, exercising that beautifully bossy nature that he and his mother possess in such abundance.