A time of crisis presents a good opportunity to identify the foundation on which I construct my life. If I place my ultimate trust in financial security, or in the government’s ability to solve my problems, I will surely watch the house crumble. (And the foolish man’s house went “splat!”)
— Philip Yancey, Grace Notes, p. 94
The only value suffering has is that it points out that you’re running low on happiness. The function of suffering is, therefore, to remind you to choose happiness, choose love, choose healing, choose forgiveness, choose laughter, choose freedom. Thus, the most helpful response to suffering is to use suffering as a chance to hit the “re-set” button in your life, and commit once again to what is truly important.
To be happy, you must value joy more than pain. You want to remind yourself again and again that suffering cannot buy me happiness.
— Robert Holden, PhD, Happiness Now! p. 113-114
The fact is, we always have the choice to turn from a problem focus to a resolution focus. We get to choose how big we want to make a problem. We don’t have to do things the way we’ve always done them. This is a huge revelation for many of us. We can disengage from any situation. We can say nothing or simply walk away. A great beginning is simply to see problems as opportunities to let God into our lives. Take it from me. The sense of personal empowerment that accompanies letting God handle the problem while we attend to watching for the solution is life changing.
— Karen Casey, Change Your Mind and Your Life Will Follow, p. 134
We can look at the people hurting us as teachers or as enemies. The most painful circumstances can become important parts of our destiny, or we can call them mistakes.
— Melody Beattie, The New Codependency, p. 19
We had already seen how God takes the trauma in our lives and uses it “for the good of those who love him” (Romans 8:28). We’d learned about trusting God even when it seemed crazy to do so, and we’d seen firsthand the amazing power of forgiveness.
— Cheryl & Jeff Scruggs, I Do Again, p. 153
Adopting the perspective of the Stargazer not only leads us toward our future best destinies but actually transmutes past unhappiness into treasure. This is because, in emotional terms, everything is made from its opposite. The raw material for joy is sorrow; the raw material for compassion is anger; the raw material for fearlessness is fear. This means that the very people who hurt you worst may turn out to have enriched you most. “Forgiveness” isn’t even an issue from the position of the Stargazer. Why would anyone bother to “forgive” someone who’d made them rich?
— Martha Beck, Steering by Starlight, p. 76
Something bad happens. I hurt. I feel unhappy. I long to feel good. I ask God for help. I am resolved to feel better. I do whatever I can to make at least a few dreams come true. That is the way of the flesh.
Something bad happens. I hurt. I feel unhappy. I long to feel good. But I trust God. His pleasure matters more than mine. But His pleasure includes mine. I believe that. So I abandon myself to His pleasure. I live to please Him. I work hard and live responsibly and strive to put balance in my life because that pleases Him. Making Him feel good is a higher priority than making me feel good. And somehow, inevitably, at some point, I discover joy. That is the way of the Spirit.
I shift from walking in the way of the flesh to walking in the way of the Spirit when the pain of life destroys my confidence in my ability to make life work and when it exposes as intolerable, insubordinate arrogance my demand to feel good. That is the experience of brokenness. It is then that the chain falls off my leg and the heavy ball rolls away. It is then that I fly.
— Larry Crabb, Shattered Dreams, p. 153-154
The gospel calls us continually to make Christ the source, the center, and the purpose of our lives. In him we find our home. In the safety of that place, our sadnesses can point us to God, even drive us into God’s loving embrace. Here mourning our losses ultimately lets us claim our belovedness. Mourning opens us to a future we could not imagine on our own — one that includes a dance.
— Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, p. 37
It is not punishment. God never punishes. And He well knows how you have been longing to do His will. This sickness has been given you as a loving message to help you understand that there was a still higher and more heavenly way of reacting to the wounds and troubles that you were experiencing than you knew about. Certainly God gave you a glorious victory even though your feelings were so wounded; you were delivered from resentment and were able to accept it all with forgiveness. But perhaps there was a little self-pity because you did not realize about the glorious principle I have been sent to share with you. For there is a still higher level of acceptance possible, and that is to accept everything that happens with praise, thanksgiving, and joy, knowing that every seeming affliction is really a blessing in disguise. God allows only the very best things possible to happen to you at any particular time; that is to say, exactly the things and situations that are best fitted to help you, because they afford you the opportunity of reacting just as Jesus did. Learning by His grace to react with praise and thanksgiving even to things that appear most evil, unjust, cruel, and deplorable, because God is allowing this opportunity to bring good out of evil, is just like waving a magic wand over an evil enchantment and being able to replace cruel spells with heavenly miracles.
— Hannah Hurnard, Eagles’ Wings to the Higher Places, p. 56-57
It’s okay to be gentle with ourselves when we’re going through change and grief. Yes, we want to maintain the disciplines of recovery. But we can be compassionate with ourselves. We do not have to expect more from ourselves than we can deliver during this time. We do not even have to expect as much from ourselves as we would normally and reasonably expect.
We may need more rest, more sleep, more comfort. We may be more needy and have less to give. It is okay to accept ourselves, and our changed needs, during times of grief, stress, and change.
It is okay to allow ourselves to cocoon during times of transformation. We can surrender to the process, and trust that a new, exciting energy is being created within us.
Before long, we will take wings and fly.
— Melody Beattie, The Language of Letting Go, p. 298-299