Five Points in My Pain

When I used to travel extensively, I always packed my Bible reading plan. That way, even if I were thousands of miles from home, my husband, Ken, and I would be in sync on our daily readings. More than twenty years later, I can no longer travel, but Ken and I still make our annual journey from Genesis to Revelation.

Reading through the Bible multiple times expands and exalts our view of God. We have always seen him as sovereign and majestic, but nowadays, we step away from our Bibles, marveling at the dazzling glory of Almighty God.

He does what he decrees — he forms thoughts in the minds of monarchs, splits open the earth to swallow rebels, aims stray arrows to fulfill his battle plan, and overrules a witch by calling forth a dead prophet to confront a king. It’s the same in the New Testament: God aborts devilish schemes to turn the world’s worst murder into the world’s only salvation. When you meditate on these things — as Ken and I often do — you walk away with a skyscraping view of the sovereignty of God.

That, to me, is comforting. Yet here I am, afflicted with sores and scars, increasing pain, quadriplegia, and the constant threat of deadly pneumonia. How is it, then, that I am consoled by the doctrine of God’s absolute dominion over every moment of my pain and paralysis? Why would I even encourage Christians to view God’s providence as the ultimate source of great comfort?

The answers are found in the doctrines of grace, those treasured canons of our faith that extol God’s sovereignty in our salvation past, present, and future.

1. Total Depravity

I cleave to Romans 5:6: “While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” When I was a teenager and a new believer, however, I considered myself slightly weak and only a little ungodly. I thought I had done Jesus a big favor by accepting him as my Savior.

Then I broke my neck. With a jolt, I learned how spiritually enfeebled I was. God could no longer fit into the back pocket of my jeans. So, for two years, I lay helpless at the bottom of a mortar until God had mercifully crushed my pride with his pestle.

Nearly six decades later, suffering still exposes my sin and lowers my estimation of myself. Afflictions humble me under God’s firm but loving hand, revealing how utterly weak my weakness is. Just as I cannot physically do a thing for myself, I could never contribute even a micrometer of moral worthiness to my salvation.

That teenager? She was blind to her pride and depravity. God nevertheless granted her saving faith and a spirit of repentance. She still doesn’t understand why a holy God would shine his kindness on her, but that is the beauty of finding Christ in your total depravity — it makes God’s glory all the more glorious.

2. Unconditional Election

Ephesians 1:4–5 is a feather-soft comfort: “He chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will.” God had his eye on me long before the universe was created — in love, he called me before my suffering even began. Even if my afflictions get worse, nothing can take away my eternal deliverance.

When I blow a fuse because of my limitations, God does not rethink his choice to save me. Nothing I do can undo his decision to include me in his flock. And although there are times when I am anything but a good ambassador for Christ in my wheelchair, my loving God sends his Spirit to correct and strengthen me.

“I may live in a wheelchair, but I live to the praise of God’s glorious grace!”

I can rejoice in my suffering because my salvation rests on God’s eternal love, not on my ability to keep a clean slate. To paraphrase Romans 8:38–39, “I am sure that neither death nor life” — nor pneumonia nor intractable pain nor total paralysis nor cancer — “nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate [me] from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

I may live in a wheelchair, but I live to the praise of his glorious grace!

3. Definite Atonement

When Ken and I open our Bibles to the daily reading for July 20, a certain verse makes me tremble. Hosea 1:9 says, “The Lord said, ‘Call his name Not My People, for you are not my people, and I am not your God.’” The idea of God saying, “You are not mine, Joni,” strikes terror in my heart.

Thankfully, Jesus did not die to offer me the possibility of salvation. He died to save me specifically — with all my dog-nasty, specific sins paid for at the cross. It is comforting to know that Jesus was thinking of me that day at Golgotha.

Even in the beginning, when quadriplegia made me think twice about the Christian faith, Christ had already secured my salvation. So, come hell or high water, I have comfort that Jesus purchased my salvation completely.

I may squirm under the weight of various afflictions, but I need not worry if I’ll make it to heaven. Christ’s atonement was definite, not uncertain. My passage to heaven is completely paid for, just as Hebrews 9:12 promises: “He entered once for all into the holy places . . . by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption.”

If you suffer, learn to love the word redemption. Christ’s secure atonement will redeem our broken bodies riddled with sin and pain. And we shall ascribe him glory forever and ever.

4. Irresistible Grace

Ken Tada is an amazing caregiver, but my disability can overwhelm him. He can feel trapped by my never-ending physical needs — wiping my nose, nebulizing my lungs, maintaining my wheelchair, doing toileting routines, taking inventory of meds, and on and on. No wonder he occasionally feels trapped, depressed, and just plain tired.

When that happens, Ken occasionally gives me the silent treatment. But his cold shoulder is my cue to pray for him. I ask God to bear his burdens (Psalm 68:19), open his heart (Ephesians 1:18), draw him to Jesus (John 6:44), and give him the grace he needs to endure in the way of James 1:12: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.”

When I pray this way, using Scripture, my husband always responds to the grace God gives. Before the day is out, Ken will lay aside the weight of my needs, take a deep breath, and keep “[running] with endurance the race that is set before [him]” (Hebrews 12:1).

By his grace, God not only saved his people in the past but goes on saving them day after day. Irresistible grace is a true comfort for any weary caregiver.

5. Perseverance of the Saints

My friend Kara lives with terrible pain. Together, we have cried, “O God, our afflictions are hard. We are slipping. Please help us, give grace, and make effective our prayers for each other!”

We know that Jesus also prays for us. As he said to his weak and faltering disciple, “I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail” (Luke 22:32). Like Peter, our faith may be shaken to the core by great affliction, but it will not be extinguished. The truly saved will be preserved.

To help Kara and me endure, we have memorized Jude 24–25: “Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.”

Jude’s doxology is God’s promise to keep us to the end. He will preserve our souls and enable us to run the race set before us. We will persevere all the way through our sanctification until God calls us home to our glorification. We will say with the aging apostle Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

The Hand of Providence

When Ken and I read through the Bible every year, we can easily trace the hand of God’s providence in nearly every chapter. God keeps opening our eyes to the beautiful doctrines of grace in our hardships. He uses our suffering to refine our faith (Hebrews 2:10), stretch our hope (Job 13:14–15), purge sin from our hearts (Psalm 107:17), build our character (Romans 5:2–5), and increase our eternal reward (2 Timothy 2:12).

The doctrines of grace show themselves most precious in seasons of suffering, weakness, or failure. When life strips away human confidence, these doctrines assure us that salvation past, present, and future rests entirely on our wise and loving God.