A sister wrote to me recently desiring me to tell her how she might find
sweetness and joy in her trials. She seemed to have in her mind an ideal
experience in which she could be joyous and calm and sweetly contented
while undergoing trials, and she was struggling to attain to her ideal.
This sister is not alone in her reaching out after such an experience.
People often chide and condemn themselves because they have not attained
to such heights. When they suffer and are distressed in their trials, they
think there is something wrong with their experience, and they become
discouraged. The Bible lifts the standard just to the place where it ought
to be; and if we have a higher ideal, we are sure to be constantly coming
short of it.
My answer to the sister was that she was looking in the wrong place for
the sweetness and joy. Jesus is our example, and we can expect trials to
have the same effect upon us as they had upon him. In that dark hour of
trial in Gethsemane, with the heavy weight of the cross already upon his
spirit, did he say to his disciples, “Behold, how joyful I am in such
awful circumstances”? Ah, no! his state was very different, and we hear
him say, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.” He was “a man
of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” When he hung upon the cross, he
cried out in agony, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Do you
think there was joy or sweetness in that? Such feelings had no place in
his emotions that day. But there was joy connected with these trials. We
read that “for the joy that was set before him, he endured the cross”
(Heb. 12: 2). Here we have endurance and joy, but we do not find them
together: the endurance is present; the joy is “set before him.” This is
the order in which such things come to us. Christ’s joy came, not from his
sufferings, but from the result of these sufferings. His joy is in the
redeemed souls that have been saved through his sufferings.
Our own trials will of necessity mean suffering, and there can be little
joy in suffering. Joy never has its direct origin in suffering; but it
does often come out of suffering, or as a result of enduring suffering.
The order in which it works is clearly seen in Heb. 12: 11—“Now no
chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous:
nevertheless _afterward_ it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of
righteousness.” This is what you may expect—grievousness in time of trial
and chastening, and afterward the reaping of joy. The Bible speaks of our
being “in heaviness through manifold temptations,” and also says, “We
count them happy which endure.” Enduring implies suffering; and suffering,
of itself, can never be joyful. We might, in a figure, say that suffering
is the soil in which the tree of patient endurance grows, and that joy is
the ripened fruit of the tree.
There are many different kinds of trials, and they have different effects.
Sometimes they are like a great storm that sweeps over the soul, when the
dashing rain obscures all view of the distant landscape and its beauties,
when the howling of the wind, the flashing of the lightning, and the
rolling of the thunder shuts out everything else and holds our entire
attention. It is only when the storm is over and the calm has come, that
we can look out again upon the broad and peaceful landscape. There are
other trials that remind one of a nail in one’s shoe: everywhere one goes,
it is present, irritating, annoying, torturing. It hinders and detracts
from all the common pleasures of life.
When trials come, there is just one proper way to meet them; that is, with
determination to overcome them and to keep our integrity during the time
that we are suffering under them. It was the joy set before Jesus that
made him strong to suffer. And so we, if we would be strong for our
trials, must look beyond them to the joy that is set before us. It is what
is coming out of the trials that is the source of our rejoicing. If you
have endured some trial—something that took real courage and fortitude—and
you look back upon it and realize that you stood true, that you did not
yield nor falter, is it not a source of great joy to your soul? When you
see the grace that God gave you, does it not strengthen and encourage you?
You desire the peaceful fruit of righteousness in your life; you want joy,
peace, victory; but remember that these are the “afterwards” of patient
endurance through the trial or chastening. You must wait for the fruit to
ripen. If you try to enjoy it before it is ripe, you may find it works
like eating a green persimmon—you not only will spoil the fruit, but will
find some unpleasant consequences.
There are certain kinds of trials that bring forth joy quickly if they are
met in the right spirit. We read that the early Christians “took joyfully
the spoiling of their goods,” and again that they “rejoiced that they were
counted worthy” to suffer for the name of Christ. This was persecution.
Often we can “rejoice and leap for joy,” not because of the persecution,
but because of the fact that great is our reward in heaven. The joy comes
from the contemplation of that reward. We suffer the persecution; we
rejoice in the reward of our patient endurance.
If we walk close to God, we shall find that in the midst of our trials,
even when they are bitter, there is an undercurrent of sweet joyfulness
away down in the depths of our souls. The consciousness that we are the
Lord’s, that he loves us, and that he is our helper will be sweet in the
midst of all our woes. This may sometimes be obscured by doubts and fears
for a time, but if we hide away under his wings and trust securely, the
harp of joy will sound in our souls though in the tumult of emotions. We
may sometimes have to listen carefully, however, to hear the soft, sweet
strains of its melody.
Be patient in your trials; endure hardness as a good soldier; keep up the
shield of faith; fight the good fight; and in due season your soul will
sing triumphant songs of victory, and the joy-bells, pealing out their
merry music, will summon God’s people to rejoice with you in your Lord and
Savior.