Yesterday, we visited a new church. The pastor's sermon was on the thorn in Paul's flesh. Paul was listing off the many accomplishment and experiences that he could use to defend his authority, which some were questioning, but then said such boasting was meaningless--it was his weaknesses that made him strong. There was a "thorn in his flesh," whatever it may have been, that kept him dependent upon God, and God's power was made greater in Paul's weakness. The pastor gave an excellent analogy--as a young man, he worked on the grounds crew on a college campus. His boss made sure that he didn't water the flowers too much, because if they were never thirsty, they wouldn't grow their roots deep. I would encourage you to read
this article on the Stages of Faith, which demonstrates how going through a crisis of faith actually brings you to a much deeper faith. Because we are refined by fire, we can "count it pure joy when we face trials of many kinds."
This poem, entitled "Wounded Soldier," was written by an MK (missionary kid) from Paraguay, Lori Higham. It appeared in the New Tribes Mission magazine, "Common," in 1996. It was shared last week in a Facebook group for MKs and TCKs (third culture kids) who attended a boarding school in Bolivia where there was a lot of abuse, so it is a place to reconnect with old friends as well as to offer encouragement and support to those who have been through the wringer because of difficult experiences at our Alma Mater. It is long, but very powerful and worth the read. It corresponds to the Stages of Faith model--as we grow more and more into Christ's image through the refining fire of trials, we will greater reflect His love to others.
Wounded Soldier
I started out to be a Perfect Soldier.
I thought I'd be God's Light to all the world,
a light to make them turn and look in wonder
and realize all the greatness of my Lord.
But then somehow it seemed a little selfish
that I should want to shine as Number One -
the light I had, and zeal, had shown me problems
that simply must be changed in everyone.
And so I tried to be a Helping Soldier
and point out everything that they should know,
exposing every area that needed worked on
so they could clean their lives up - and grow!!
I hung my lamp of 'Truth' outside my window
to help them see their neediness and sin
but then a friend reminded me that Jesus
came to meet and love us, not condemn.
And so I tried to be an Approving Soldier.
I'd let others know that I knew they meant well.
I would find the good in all their efforts
and never mention sin, judgment, or hell.
I helped others see their own true greatness!
But, somewhere, I got hurt along the way,
believing there to be a heart of goodness
in selfishness and piercing stabs they gave.
I trusted them, expecting they would be there
when I fell down, to understand my cry,
but then I realized they were standing, waiting,
not to help me up, but to watch me die.
Tears streamed down my face and drowned my lamp out
and it just hurt so much I crumpled down,
not caring anymore who didn't love me,
not caring anymore who took my crown.
Everybody saw my lonely aching
as my 'Christian peace' turned to a hopeless cry.
With no more 'good' I'd tried so hard to show them,
no more joy, and no more strength to try.
Darkness came and with it cold and hunger
and tears and tears of emptiness and shame.
One by one they walked away and left me
with nothing but my broken dreams and pain.
Then, through the black of night, I felt a teardrop
as someone came and took me by the hand
and whispered, "Jesus loves you, Wounded Soldier,
you see. He knew just how much you could stand".
I felt her teardrops falling on my forehead
as tenderly she opened up my eyes
and said, 'You see, a new dawn is breaking
and a new day, with a beautiful sunrise".
She said, "And see, there's other wounded soldiers'.
I sat up, surprised, and looked around
and gasped in shock at all the wounded soldiers
hurting, bleeding, crumpled on the ground.
I listened to their sobbing and how it hurt me!
I knew the awful pain they were crying of.
Then she asked me, "Can you see them now, to help them?
Jesus said, 'They'll know you by your love'".
I turned then and saw her for the first time
I caught my breath and didn't know what to say.
Her young face and neck were scarred from battles
and one of her arms had been shot away.
She'd been through trials so much worse than I had
yet she cared for me, and knew my pain was real.
Her eyes shone with courage, truth and mercy
and the loving hand she still had, she used, to heal.
I thanked and thanked her but she only answered,
"One truly suffered, far more than have we
and Jesus knew that pain was what we needed
to wash our eyes with tears so we can see.
Jesus didn't die because we deserved it
or because we had some 'greatness' deep inside.
He didn't get a bargain when He loved us.
He paid His blood for emptiness and pride."
Then, as she finished speaking, she reached over
and gently lit my lamp that almost died
but tenderly she moved it from the window
and placed it in my heart of hearts inside.
She said, "You see, our Lord must do the shining
and, yes, His truth will surely reveal sin
but it's not ours to tear others down and change them.
It's ours to be there and help them try again!"
And then she smiled as quietly she told me
"I'm a servant of our Savior up above".
"I know," I said, and truly knew as I remembered
that Jesus said, "They'll know you by your love."
Jesus didn't make us Hero Warriors
who stand away from those different than we
but He gave us hearts to care and hurt with people
and tears to wash our eyes so we can see.
Our eyes, to look and find the Wounded Soldiers.
He gave us ears so we can hear them cry,
tender hands to reach out and touch them
and never let a Wounded Soldier die!
From Authentic Christianity by John R. W. Stott