Can sorrow and joy walk hand-in-hand? Can you hold both sadness and happiness together?
Black is often associated with sorrow or mourning. I don’t naturally think of mourning when I think of a gift. It’s quite the opposite usually. I was first introduced to the phrase “a gift wrapped in black” when reading an autobiography by Joni Eareckson Tada. It struck me as rather odd, so I continued reading to find out what she meant.
Joni, a quadriplegic since the age of 17, said this, “Maybe this wheelchair felt like a horrible tragedy in the beginning, but I give God thanks in my wheelchair…I’m grateful for my quadriplegia. It’s a bruising of a blessing. A gift wrapped in black. It’s the shadowy companion that walks with me daily, pulling and pushing me into the arms of my Saviour. And that’s where the joy is…”
I don’t know of a single person who sets out with the goal to find themselves some suffering. The stories I hear echo my own desires- to go out of my way to avoid situations, relationships, even conversations that I know will be painful. We pray for health and happiness. We long for mountaintop experiences and to dwell in safety.
Oftentimes, I find myself falsely believing that God wants only these “good” things for me. I don’t actually say that, but when I find myself gut punched with a painful circumstance I often say things like, “how can this be for our good?” And if I’m honest with myself, that’s the same as saying, “God doesn’t want anything that I think is bad to come into my life.”
Charles Spurgeon once said,
“God is too good to be unkind and
He is too wise to be mistaken.
When we cannot trace His hand,
We must trust His heart.”
Trusting his heart looks like walking by faith. “Lord, we believe. Help our unbelief.”
My son was diagnosed with severe scoliosis in February 2023, when I first saw the images and heard the prognosis my heart broke over my son’s bent body. And my mind said, “How could this be? Why my son?”
When we learned that the only path to help heal his body required more time and money than we could give, again we questioned, “How can this be the plan?”
When the long days turned to longer nights, we cried out begging God to give us wisdom to know what next steps to take with the never ending issues that surrounded his ongoing treatment, “How can this be what’s best for our dear boy?”
Will I ever have the answer to my “why”? Possibly not on this side of eternity- not the specifics at least. But maybe, just maybe, that’s not really what I want to know anyway. It could be that I just want to be reassured that God loves me and this love will only give me and my son what is best.
Our family clings to this truth penned by the late singer/songwriter Rich Mullins in The Love of God,
“Joy and sorrow are this ocean
And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all Hell could never close
Here I’m tested and made worthy
Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God”
I know that God loves me. The evidence is in Romans 8:32. “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?” Love demonstrated by the sacrifice of His perfect, holy son, through which He graciously gives us all things. This scoliosis is a gift wrapped in black. I see that now. It’s pushing me into the arms of my Savior. I’m beginning, like Joni Eareckson Tada encourages, to be thankful for the scoliosis and for the difficulty. In this trial, God has proven Himself strong in my weaknesses (1 Cor 12:9), close to the brokenhearted (Ps 34:18) and He continues to use it for his glory and our good (Rom. 8:28).
He who promises is faithful, He will surely do it. 1 Thessalonians 5:4.
