The other day I asked my six year old what she thought it meant to suffer. <\/p>\n
“Oh, my goodness. I totally know. Suffering is about the thing that I’m going to get into my mouth to make me stop sucking my thumb.” <\/p>\n
So, the torture device, I mean the dental device, is for that exact purpose – once in, she literally cannot suck her thumb anymore due to the sharp prongs that hang down in the front of her mouth. <\/p>\n
OK…they’re not sharp. But I admit I was a little nervous about the torture device. And not really because I secretly feared that it was in some way torturous, but because of the implications for mom and dad. I secretly wondered how parent’s got through the “stop cold turkey” thumb sucking. Would she be awake all night? Would she cry for hours on end? (I decided that I’d have her call her dentist if either of these first two fears came to fruition) Would she be mad and have temper tantrums? Would she end up in counseling? Were there support groups for me and my husband?? <\/p>\n
I had in mind my daughter’s definition of suffering when the day of installation came around. She was pretty brave at the office – a definite mix of tears and laughing, which is about the right wave of emotion that we experience with our six year old. There’s never much in between. <\/p>\n
When it was all said and done and the torture device was in, my daughter and I got in the car. I had kind of hoped that she would be a little quieter than normal, due to the regular frustrations of a daughter who talks non stop (and I’m not exaggerating here; the girl has a remarkable talent in the talking department), and due to a progressing headache. I knew it would be tough to talk “normally” for a while, since the appliance made her speech sound funny, so I was sure<\/em> she’d take a few more breaks than normal. <\/p>\n Alas, she actually talked more than usual on the way back to school. The problem was that I couldn’t tell her to take a break and put her thumb in her mouth. I was starting to convince myself it was a torture device for parents. I was also pretty sure that I <\/em>was the one who was going to end up in counseling.<\/p>\n “Mom, I can’t say ‘T.’ T, T, T, T.” Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. The amount of spit in our car was unreal. And then we went from T’s to S’s to Z’s and back to T’s. She then went on to repeat every kid’s name in her class several times to ensure, she said, “that no one will be confused when I call for them.” <\/p>\n When she calls for them? Man, a thumb sucking device could be the least of her worries. <\/p>\n I actually told her to put a fist up by her mouth to see if that would help her be a little quieter. “No, mom. I have to practice my ‘T’s,'” as the spit came out abundantly. <\/p>\n The good news was that for the first several hours Lily seemed completely un-affected by the appliance, other than “T’s” and “S’s.” She thought she’d suffer, but instead she delighted in it and in the amount of spit that she produced when trying to say “T” or “S.” <\/p>\n But, when night time came, the suffering started. Oh, the suffering began and began big, boldly and over-dramatically (this is how we tend to do everything in our household). <\/p>\n It started with how it felt to her tongue: “My tongue hurts SO bad and my tongue just keeps on hurting and hurting.” Literally an hour later she told me her tongue was fine. It was actually something on her foot that was really hurting. <\/p>\n And then the suffering continued when it came to eating: “I can’t eat anything <\/em>and I don’t know if I can eat again,” as she put her head on the kitchen table. Her dad gave her a toothpick and told her to figure it out. We’re sympathetic like that. This complaining too lasted for a very short time. It was especially over when the Halloween candy came out. All of a sudden it was totally fine and easy to eat! It was a miracle! <\/p>\n And then the suffering ended with a bang right before bed: “I just feel <\/em>so much like my thumb needs sucking! It just really needs it so much. My mouth needs my thumb!” <\/p>\n But, I am happy to report, that was the end of it. Once I closed her door (with perhaps a few warnings about kids who get out of bed and complain about silly things like torture devices) the suffering was over and she was fast and peacefully asleep. <\/p>\n In the morning she suggested to me that she was ready to go ahead and get it out. I told her she’d have to talk with her dentist. She told me she was going to have a conversation with him about it. I don’t doubt for one second that will actually happen. <\/p>\n Such is suffering to a six year old. And for a time, to her mom. <\/p>\n I had the privilege this past week of leading a Bible Study discussion on 1 Peter 4 on the topic of suffering. <\/em>I have a hard time expressing how much I got out of studying this passage. <\/p>\n Verses 12 through 16 talk about a very specific type of suffering: Suffering for being a Christian. Suffering because we stand up for the name of Jesus. Suffering because we believe that the gospel is the answer to all things. Suffering because we have hope in the mist of difficulty, which some have suggested is a na\u00efve and oblivious way to live. <\/p>\n It’s tough, though, for many of us to apply this specific kind of suffering to our lives – it was tough for me. I’ve been wrestling the last couple of weeks with the ways in my life that I have (and haven’t!) suffered because I am a follower of Christ. Verse 12 tells us to not be surprised as though something strange were happening. Implying, then, that suffering because we are Christians will happen and should <\/em>happen at some point in our journeys.<\/p>\n There are so many places around the world where suffering because of an unrelenting hope in Jesus is neither strange nor uncommon. <\/p>\n I was recently confronted with a video of children in Iraq who were shot because they would not renounce their faith. It was one of the most disturbing ten second clips I’ve ever seen. It truly shook me to the core. And while our natural response may be to turn our head and ignore it because it’s difficult to absorb, I believe it’s our responsibility as the body of believer’s to pray for them and to be aware of what they are facing. May we be willing to empathize with them as we pray urgently for those whose lives are in danger because they believe in the gospel that saves. Lord, come quickly<\/em>. <\/p>\n These precious believers have set for us a remarkable example of what it means to truly follow Christ, and I am eternally grateful for both their example and their testimony. After studying this passage, I’ve found myself more worldly aware and have committed in a new way to praying for those who don’t have the same freedoms we do. <\/p>\n The beautiful culmination of this passage is found in verse 19 when Peter reminds us that those who suffer entrust their souls to a Faithful Creator<\/em>. And this truth applies not just to those suffering for being a Christian but to any and all kind of suffering.<\/p>\n God, who made the universe, who created me and knows every time a hair falls from my head, is faithful in the midst of all <\/em>suffering. He’s faithful. This brings together the beauty of knowing the Creator God as a personal Savior. He will never leave us, forsake us, or have us suffer for the sake of suffering. <\/p>\n And why the suffering? Because it refines us. The word ‘refined’ is defined this way: ” to remove impurities or unwanted elements.” Like lily’s torture device – it’s tough now, but it’s ensuring to us that the thumb, which isn’t good for her teeth or speech in the long run, is effectively being removed from her mouth. (And beyond that, I can stop having nightmares of her sucking her thumb in her college dorm room). <\/p>\n Suffering reminds us of who we are and whose we are while drawing us closer to Jesus. It doesn’t make the suffering less painful, but these truth’s give us hope in the midst of it. <\/p>\n Unfortunately there is sometimes a tendency to rate the pain of those around us. There’s a sinful need to see who’s suffering more or less or whose suffering due to the pains of this world takes precedence over another. Suffering is suffering, whether it’s a dental torture device or a terminal illness. When you’re in it, it’s hard. <\/p>\n Roman’s 8:37 through 38 reminds us: <\/p>\n 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. <\/em><\/p>\n We are more <\/em>than conquerors! All the suffering that we experience as a believer lay at our feet conquered because of the hope we have in Jesus. And they’re not just at our feet, but they serve <\/em>us because God works through them for our own good. <\/p>\n As a parent, I would love to think that my six year old won’t suffer beyond the thumb sucking appliance that is on the fore front of her mind (and mouth) at the moment, but as a believer, I know this won’t be the case. My prayer for my daughter is the same prayer for my own heart in the midst of current and future suffering: <\/p>\n