Yesterday I had an afternoon with my beautiful daughter. We went to see the movie Christopher Robin and then we walked a bit in the mall and both of us bought some jewelry. On the way home we talked about Mark 11:22-23:  “And Jesus answered saying to them, ‘Have faith in God. Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it will be granted him.'”

Jennifer said she thought as we grow in our faith in God, our thought is not about what mountain we want moved but what mountain God wants moved and that is the thing for which we ask. Our concern becomes less about our own will but more about His.

Then this morning I read this from Oswald Chambers: “What God calls us to cannot be definitely stated, because His call is simply to be His friend to accomplish His own purposes. Our real test is in truly believing that God knows what He desires. The things that happen do not happen by chance— they happen entirely by the decree of God. God is sovereignly working out His own purposes. . . As we grow in the Christian life, it becomes simpler to us, because we are less inclined to say, ‘I wonder why God allowed this or that?’ And we begin to see that the compelling purpose of God lies behind everything in life, and that God is divinely shaping us into oneness with that purpose. A Christian is someone who trusts in the knowledge and the wisdom of God, not in his own abilities. If we have a purpose of our own, it destroys the simplicity and the calm, relaxed pace which should be characteristic of the children of God.”

My cousin Christine Currie is fighting cancer again and she commented they pray in faith, asking for healing as they surrender to God and His perfect plan and will. That spoke to me about asking God to move mountains. Sometimes it has seemed as if adding “but Your will be done” to the end of a prayer was giving God an out. Yes, He always answers prayer, but sometimes (and too often from our way of thinking) He says “No.” So we look at that prayer and say, “Well, it just wasn’t God’s will.”

Our son-in-law preached on those verses last week and told a story of a man who prayed for something, and when it didn’t happen, he said, “I didn’t expect God to do it.” He pointed out that praying in faith and with faith expects God to act and is surprised if He doesn’t do what we asked.

Putting Jennifer’s thoughts on that verse and Christine’s approach to prayer I have to rethink many of the things I’ve prayed for over the years. Have my prayers been for what I want, pushing aside what God wants, blaming my lack of surrender to God’s purposes on God’s doing His own thing contrary to my will? Have I looked at prayer as a time to instruct God on what He should do rather than as a time of fellowship with the God of power, strength and love, coming to a deeper understanding of who He is and what He is about in my life?

I write out many of my prayers and I can look back over the years and see what I ask God to do and what the complete results were. I am amazed that most of the prayers that went unanswered—from my perspective at the time—were actually things that I was glad in hindsight God had ignored. But as I looked farther, I realized that though God did not do what I asked Him to do, He met the need of my heart. I have come to the conclusion that as I pray, the Holy Spirit in me says, “Father, let Me reword that. The true desire of her heart is this, she just doesn’t know it yet.” Then God grants the desire of my heart, not the surface words I spoke to Him. His answers were deeper, fuller, and better than my original request.

Jesus’ words, “Have faith in God” are so powerful. The more I get to know Him, the more I understand about His great love and holiness, the more I surrender to His perfect plan and will, the deeper my faith grows. The more my faith grows, the more fearlessly I ask for the closer to His desires my desires become. My life begins to be one of simplicity and calm as I get to that relaxed place of seeing God behind everything, and resting in His wisdom and love.

A poster I saw this week has been stewing in my mind for the past few days. It said: Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional. I’ve been playing it against the reality of the week for myself and for a number of my friends and family. Between us we’ve had major invasive surgery, chemotherapy that caused extreme nausea, severe back pain, a beloved grandfather die, minor aches and pains, a marriage painfully end, fleeing for your life because you’ve been put on a hit list because of your faith in God, and those are just the ones I can think of at the moment.

Pain is inevitable. I have no problem with that. It’s the suffering part that puzzles me. The dictionary defines it as “pain that is caused by injury, illness, loss, etc.: physical, mental, or emotional pain.” That sounds pretty inevitable to me as well. I know someone who was hurt so much as a young child that they have the ability to block pain to the point where they seem to step outside of themselves to avoid it, making it appear as if the pain is happening to someone else. That has taken them into some nearly disastrous situations. Pain is given to us as a warning that something is wrong. To ignore it is foolish.

The message the poster was trying to make is that dwelling or wallowing in pain is a choice. It should not become something that defines us.

It reminded me of visit we made to the Wedgewood factory on our second visit to England. As we walked through the section dedicated to showing us how this beautiful pottery is created, we stopped at the place where the intricate white ornamentations are made that decorate their signature blue or grey pieces. A small ball of white clay is placed in a mold and the artisan uses a wooden hammer with a two-and-a-half inch mallet-like head to pound the clay until it fills the mold. Using a pin, the clay is removed so it can be examined. If it conforms perfectly to the mold, it is set aside to dry. If not—if there is a bubble or a place where the clay failed to completely fill the design, it is rolled up into a ball and the whole process is started again.

As we watched the process for several minutes, I found myself praying, “God, as pain comes into my life and I am pounded down, let me come up looking beautiful, not resisting the process so it has to happen all over again before I come out of the mold looking like Jesus.” I was reminded how my grandfather often called pain or trouble God’s hammer of love, something that shaped us into strong, loving people.

I collect tea cups and one of my favorite ones was a gift from my daughter and son-in-law that they brought home after a summer of living in Romania. They stopped at a pottery store on an excursion to Bucharest and after explaining to the owner that they wanted a special cup and saucer for their mother, he invited them into the back of the store. There he served them tea as he brought out his special cups to show them. They selected a cup he had made by kneading the clay, pounding it into shape, molding it just the way he wanted. He then fired it in a kiln, painted it with bright blue flowers, and fired it again.

I treasure that cup and saucer, even though I continued the pain the clay went through by dropping the cup on the floor and breaking it into a dozen pieces. (I think it’s the only time I cried when I broke something I owned.) I lovingly collected the pieces and glued them back together. It will never hold tea again but it looks beautiful on my shelf. It also serves as a reminded to me that brokenness is not fatal. The purpose of that cup has changed, but it has not been made useless.

As I look at my friends and family I see strength growing in them through the struggles they are going through. Sometimes it takes testing to show ourselves that we are stronger than we think we are, that we do have the capacity to move ahead. I am so proud of them for not wallowing in pain nor letting it steal their joy of living. I would change the poster to read, “Pain is inevitable, Suffering happens, But growth and joy are possible. Choose well.”