Light and momentary troubles...

I woke up reflecting on our lives a year ago.  Today marks one year since my father in law's death, and in just a few days it will be one year since my mom's. Just a couple of weeks before that, I had changed jobs, and we had just come off the most difficult and exhausting foster placement we have had. I think it's safe to say that was not my favorite season. 

What I really woke up reflecting on was God's grace in the last year. Every time I thought I couldn't handle one more thing, my Heavenly Father stepped in with another tangible, real example of His grace and mercy. 

One verse kept coming back to me thoughtout the year and it brought great comfort in that oxymoronic way that our faith so often does...

"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. (2 Corinthians 4:17 NIV)"

Everytime I would get really in the weeds, or the weight of the circumstances would be crushing, I was reminded of this verse. How can so much pressure and difficulty be "light and momentary"? How can glory come from this that "outweighs" this heaviness? 

I don't think I could explain that until one day in June. I was in Israel at the Garden Tomb. It was a beautiful, tranquil, worshipful place stuck smack in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Jerusalem. Our visit came at the end of a powerful 10 day visit to this amazing place. Our leaders had organized a beautiful communion service, and I was fully prepared to enjoy this time. 

What I wasn't prepared for was the personal encounter I had with my Lord that day. While walking through that beautiful place and seeing the place where Christ could have been crucified, and walking in the tomb where He could have been buried I realized something in a new way... 

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. (Hebrews 4:15 NIV)"

The troubles and griefs and stressors that I had dealt with earlier that year were not foreign to my God. Christ had felt it all, He had faced it all, and He had sacrificed all... For me. The temptation for me was to tell God that He had asked enough of me, that I had nothing else to give, and that if He asked one more thing, I was done. He gently and patiently reminded me yet again in that garden that He had given it ALL, and that what had been asked of me was truly light and momentary in the scheme of eternity. And He also made it very clear that He would be asking more and more... Until He took me home. Anything I would face on this earth would pale in comparison to what He had already done, so how could I say I couldn't give more?

But how would I do that? How would I give more? How would I serve more, sacrifice more, love more? It was too hard, too much, too heavy. Too much trouble. 

I wept and wept. I missed the whole communion service crying under a tree. I bawled like a baby that night while my pastor reminded me that I wasn't alone, and I didn't have to be afraid of the future. Whatever God asked of me, He would not make me do in my own strength. He had provided help every step of the way so far, and He would continue to. 

So, I guess that's the answer... Life is hard. Really hard.  But the glory he allows us to share in, the peace that passes all understanding, and joy that comes in the morning really do outweigh these light and momentary troubles. Difficulty will continue to come, but God's grace will continue to abound. He has asked more of me this year, and I have found that he has given me more to give. And I'm grateful. I'm grateful to look back and see grace not just grief.