9 The Comfort of God’s Grace
9
The more I listened to her say the phrase, the more it became clear to me that she was doing more than describing her experience. She was telling me who she thought she was. Her depression was no longer just a powerfully difficult and debilitating human experience; over the weeks, months, and years of travail, it had become her identity. “I’m depressed” was no longer an explanation of what she was going through; it defined for her who she was.
Now, let me say that long-term depression is horrible to live through. It has a radical impact on your everyday functioning, your relationship with God, and your community with others. It is a huge heart-and-life struggle that shouldn’t be minimized, but it is very important to say that it is not an identity. The loss of a loved one, debilitating physical illness, a crippling accident, the adulterous betrayal of a spouse, sudden financial loss, the disloyalty of a friend or loved one, or the rebellion of a child are all very difficult human experiences, but they do not define you, and they must not be taken on as your identity.
In the midst of all the trials, travail, and traps of suffering, it is very important that we remember who we are and what we have been given. If we don’t fight to remember our true identity as the children of God, an identity that nothing or no one can steal from us, our suffering begins to define us. Here’s what is important about the identity struggle that lives in the heart of every sufferer: the identity we assign to ourselves shapes and defines the way that we live our lives. If “I’m depressed” becomes your identity, then in your personal life and relationships you will live out what that identity means.
The identity you assign to yourself determines three things. First, it determines your expectations. You and I were hardwired for hope. Whether you are aware of it or not, it is hope that gets you up in the morning and causes you to once again do the things you do. You hope that if you do _________ that you will receive __________ as a result. The way God has designed us is that vertical hope (our hope in him) would fuel a horizontal life of expectant faith and courageous action. Because we know God is good, that he is faithful, and that he blesses us with his presence, promises, and grace, we have hope that what he tells us to do will produce a good return in our lives. A joyful, obedient life is not just the result of surrender to God; it is also the product of hope in him.
If tragedy robs you of your true identity and redefines who you are, then it also dents, damages, or destroys your hope. When travail becomes your identity, it robs you of the one thing that all human beings need to have, what they were designed to be, and to do what they were called to do: expectancy. Loss of hope renders you weak and timid, lacking in motivation and courage. It causes you to hide instead of move out. It causes you to give up quickly instead of press on. It causes you to fear rather than believe. It leaves you convinced that you can’t do what, in fact, you have the power to do. It leaves you with little expectation that your life can ever be more than it now is. Some kind of personal spiritual paralysis always results when a difficult situation becomes your identity.
But there is a second thing, and I have already hinted at it, but it needs further discussion. The identity you assign to yourself also determines your potential. We all constantly measure the potential we have to deal with the things on our plate. God means for us to define our potential vertically, to understand that our potential is vastly greater than the size of our independent collection of personal resources, because we have been connected to him by grace. When you live in light of your true potential as a child of God, you live with hope and courage even when life is hard. But when tragedy defines your identity, you vastly underestimate your potential, convinced that you’re unable to do what grace actually makes possible for you. My depressed friend not only had very small expectations for her life; she was also convinced that she had little potential as a woman, a wife, a mother, a neighbor, a friend, and a member of the body of Christ.
When you have small expectations and have assigned to yourself little potential, in many ways you just quit living. That’s the third result of letting what you suffer become your identity—it determines your actions. Why does one person step forward and face the hard thing while the other runs away? The answer is clear: one has hope and the other doesn’t. Why is one person active in the middle of difficulty while the other seems paralyzed by it? Well, one sees his potential even in the storm, and the other is convinced his potential is small. The identity you assign to yourself determines how you assess your expectations, how you measure your potential, and how you act, react, and respond to your everyday situations and relationships. This is why it is so important to fight the temptation to let what you suffer define who you are.
The rest of this book is dedicated to pointing you to the expectation and potential that come with being God’s child. We will invest this chapter and the ones to follow in a consideration of the comforts he gives, which suffering cannot take away and that shine brightest when your days are darkest. As you are suffering, the way to avoid adding more trouble to your trouble is to run away from the temptations we have already considered and toward God’s comforts. Every one of these comforts is not just your hope as God’s child but part of the reality of what that identity as his child means for you as you go through difficult things. These comforts are a more accurate description of your true identity than your suffering will ever be.
The first of these comforts is the stunningly encouraging comfort of God’s amazing grace. Here is how Paul explains that grace to those of us who are suffering:
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom. 8:18–39)
What is the nature of the grace that is ours simply because we are children of God? Note how Paul talks about it.
1. Uncomfortable Grace
In verses 19–25 Paul points us to two things that should bring comfort when suffering enters the door. Notice that from his very first words Paul assumes that suffering is not an unusual, surprising experience; it’s the experience of everyone who lives in this dramatically broken world. Your suffering indicates that you live in a broken world (“subjected to futility,” in “bondage to corruption,” “in the pains of childbirth”).
This means that everyone living between the “already” of the fall of Adam and Eve and the “not yet” of Christ’s return will suffer sometime, someway. We differ only in the time and nature of our suffering. So suffering is an indicator of where we live but not an indicator of the failed love of our Savior. You haven’t been singled out, and God hasn’t turned his back on you.
But there is a second thing. In the middle of his discussion of the scary dysfunction of our world, Paul uses the words hope and redemption. These words seem to be out of place in helping people recognize the inescapability of unexpected and painful things. But Paul wants us to know that in the middle of the travail we all face one way or another, God is up to something good.
I know it is hard for those of you suffering right now to hold onto this—it has been for me—but it is important to grasp. God’s grace often does its best and brightest work when things are the darkest and most difficult. God is both willing and able to bring very good things out of very bad things. The cross of Jesus Christ is the ultimate argument for this. What could be worse than the unjust murder of the Messiah? What could be more wonderful than Jesus’s death for our salvation?
This side of eternity, God’s grace often comes to us in uncomfortable situations and forms. In moments when we are crying out for the grace of relief, God is doing good things in and through us, using the very things that we want relief from as his tool. You see, God is so committed to his work that he will allow nothing to interrupt that work or cause him to turn away. In fact, he will use what seems like an incredible interruption in our lives to deliver the good things he’s promised. So we need to embrace and encourage one another with the theology of uncomfortable grace.
It is so great to know that although God’s grace often greets us in uncomfortable moments and ways, none of the things we suffer has the power to stand in the way of the amazing grace he’s promised us. What a comfort!
2. Intervening Grace
Pain is painful, and it is painful not only in a physical, relational, situational way but also spiritually and emotionally. There are times when we are so confused that we do not know what in the world we’re supposed to pray for. There are times when we are so emotionally distraught that the words just won’t come. In my suffering there were times of unbearable pain when all I could pray was, “Lord, help me! Lord, help me!”
In your pain, God doesn’t require that you pray biblically literate, theologically rich prayers. He doesn’t reject your prayers because you don’t have the right words, spoken in the right way. In fact, when prayer is hard, he not only doesn’t reject you; he offers you help. And the help he offers is not a lesson in how to pray when it’s hard to pray. The help he gives is himself, in the person of the Holy Spirit. When you don’t know what to cry, he carries your cries to the Father. The Spirit, who knows your heart and what you need, turns your groanings into words.
You see, in your most confused and emotional moments, you are far from alone because God blesses you with his intervening grace. Verses 26–27 tell you that at the very moment you’re groaning, the Spirit is representing you and your needs to the Father. God knows what you are going through and is not unkind so as to reject messy, chaotic, emotional prayers offered in your moment of need. He carries them to the throne of God where they will be heard and answered. When no one hears and understands your cries, in those moments when it feels useless to cry, God listens, hears, and answers. He always greets your groanings without judgment. You don’t have to rehearse your prayers, you don’t have to wait until you’re more composed and able to think clearly, and you don’t have to worry that you’ll say the wrong thing. Your Lord listens with a tender and sympathetic heart, and he makes sense of groans that no one else could ever make sense of. He answers not because of what’s in you but because of the grace that’s in him.
3. Unstoppable Grace
Verses 28–30 burst with comfort, but I am afraid we often miss that comfort because we misunderstand the hope embedded in these verses. Maybe one of the most misunderstood verses in the Bible is Romans 8:28: “We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” The misunderstanding of this verse has resulted in unrealistic expectations for many and grief and doubt of heart when those expectations are dashed. It is vital to understand that the only way to interpret the promise of this passage is to place it in the context of what the surrounding verses tell us. When you are reaching out for the hope of the promises of God’s Word, its important to remember that Scripture interprets Scripture.
God is not promising in Romans 8:28 that all suffering will have an end in this lifetime or that it will end with some good result. This is not an “I guarantee you that everything will turn out okay” promise. The reality is that the unfaithful husband may not come to his senses and become faithful to his vows. That person who was crippled in an accident may never walk again. I may never again have my kidney function.
Many people have been led to believe that this verse foretells a good ending, and they have earnestly looked for it, only to face the pain of its never coming. If you have misunderstood the verse in that way, then how could you not conclude that the Word of God is untrue and that God cannot be trusted? In such cases not only do you suffer whatever painful thing has come your way, but you also deal with the grief and anger of feeling betrayed by God. This is why it is so important to know exactly the grace promised us here.
Notice that in verses 28–30 Paul isn’t talking about your physical body, your situation, or your relationships; he is talking about God’s relationship to you and the good he is delivering to you. What is that good, you may ask? That good is your redemption, the final completion of everything God has promised to do in you and for you by his grace. Now, it is hard for us when we suffer to understand what I am about to write, but it is so helpful. In these verses God is promising that nothing will ever get in the way of the most important gift we could ever receive. Nothing can stop the most important work that is going on in our lives. No good physical, relational, or circumstantial situation in this present life can be compared with the eternal good that God is doing for us and in us by his rescuing, forgiving, transforming, and delivering grace.
Paul wants us to know in our suffering that the best of gifts, the gift of God’s grace, is never risky, it’s never at stake, and there is no risk in trusting it, because the grace we’re receiving today is but a present expression of a plan that was settled before the world was created. God’s work is not a nervous response to what is going on in your life in the hopes that he can make good on his promises; everything he does in you and for you is the result of a gracious plan that was put in place before the foundations of this world were put in place, and nothing can stop that plan.
4. Providing Grace
As I was suffering things I never thought I would have to face, and as I still live with the results, I have turned to Romans 8:31–32 again and again. I love the logic of these verses and the hope they give for anyone whose life has been touched, troubled, and maybe permanently altered by the brokenness of this world. Paul argues that if God would willingly give us his Son, if he would control human history so that at just the right time he would come to live, die, and rise on our behalf, then would it make any sense for him to abandon us now? Paul is saying that in your weakness and need, when you are facing things bigger than you, and when you’re feeling more needy than ever before, the cross is your hope and guarantee.
The cross stands as a powerful monument for every sufferer that God will go to any length necessary to deliver to his children the things they need. I do love the exact words here: “. . . will he not also with him [Jesus Christ] graciously give us all things?” (v. 32). There is nothing you will ever need that your Savior is not able and willing to supply. The cross teaches us that he will provide. This is not a wish and a hope but a statement of fact. If you are God’s child, he will provide everything you need. The promise is not that your Lord will deliver everything you think you need or that, in the middle of your travail, you come to want. The fact is that your Lord knows exactly what you need, and he will provide “all things.” The cross teaches you that you can bank on God’s willingness to provide for you. You may be weak, but your Savior is not. You may be poor, but your Savior is not. You may be confused about what you need most in your situation, but your Lord is not. You may feel that you’re at the end of your rope, but your Savior remains strong and committed to your welfare, and every day he greets you with his providing grace.
5. Inseparable Grace
The passage ends with a glorious grace crescendo. You can hear the redemptive orchestra swell as the timpani drums roll and the cymbals crash—hope and comfort build. With powerful and beautiful words, Paul declares that nothing in us or anywhere around us can separate us from the grace of God’s eternal, life-giving love. It is music that every sufferer needs to hear. In those moments when you feel so alone, when you think that no one understands and you are tempted to wonder if God loves you, Paul says, “Yes, yes he does, and nothing will ever change that. Nothing will ever make him turn his back on you. Nothing will hold him back. Nothing will cause him to change his heart.”
I am persuaded that there is a reason Paul gave this ending to his discussion of the comforts of God’s grace to his suffering children. Think about it for a moment. There is a cry deep in the heart of every human being. It is the cry to be loved. What do we all long for but to be loved, not just on our good days, not just when we are strong, not just when it is attractive to do so, and not just in those moments when we feel we deserve it. We all want to be loved when we’re weak, broken, confused, unattractive, and unable to love fully in return. We all want someone who loves us to hold us tight and never let us go.
We want to be loved when we have nothing to give. We want to be loved when we’re confused and angry. We want to be loved when our suffering has rendered us self-focused. We want love that is sturdy no matter what, the kind of love you could never be sufficiently strong or good enough to earn. We want love that means, no matter the hardships that come our way, we are never alone. We want love that stays with us even when we’re unable to dress ourselves up and present ourselves as lovable. And we want to know that this love is forever.
Paul says something radically encouraging here: the kind of love our hearts long for is ours because of our identity as the children of grace. The Savior loves us, and he will love us, and nothing can stop him. Nothing we could ever suffer has the power to constrict, obstruct, or end God’s love. No matter what you’re dealing with, you can wake up in the morning and say, “I may be weak, needy, and confused, but there is one thing I am sure of—I am sure that today I am loved!”
You are not defined by your suffering. Yes, you must work so that your travail doesn’t become your identity. The things you suffer are powerful, difficult, life-shaping experiences, but they do not define you. If you are God’s child, you carry the full meaning of that identity with you no matter how hard life is and no matter how weak you feel. Your identity is not the result of your circumstances or your achievements; it’s a gift of God’s grace. You didn’t earn it, and there’s nothing you can do to lose it.
Embedded in your identity as a child of God are wonderful comforts, just the kind of comforts that every sufferer longs for. We have looked at the first of those comforts, the comfort of God’s amazing, right-here, right-now grace. As we suffer our way through this groaning world, we will never stop needing his uncomfortable, intervening, unstoppable, providing, and inseparable grace. And the good news is that the supply of that grace will never, ever wear out.
Review and Reflect
1. The apostle Paul writes in Romans 8 about inevitable suffering but also about hope and redemption. Why do you think God does not remove all suffering?
2. Paul Tripp makes a bold statement: “God’s grace often does its best and brightest work when things are the darkest and most difficult”. Why is this encouraging? Where have you seen this happen in your life?
3. How are you encouraged by intervening grace? When have you experienced it?
4. How is Romans 8:28 often misunderstood? How has this chapter reshaped your view of this verse?
5. Paul Tripp writes that our identity determines our expectations, our potential, and our actions. Where do you tend to find your identity apart from God, and how is it impacting your suffering?
Heart Reset
Romans 8:18–39
Ephesians 2:8–9
2 Thessalonians 2:16–17