The Path of Adversity

Many years ago, the pastor of the church I attended preached a message on growing through adversity. He said it is human nature that the only time we change or grow is when we face adversity. When we are in a place of ease and satisfaction in our lives, we have no reason to make changes, no impetus to grow, mature or build character. We're happy with the status quo at those times. Why rock the boat? It's nice to kick back and enjoy what life has to offer, to coast along with very little effort.

It is during times of crisis--when our health fails or a loved one gets sick, when a child reaches the end of himself and must make hard choices, when someone faces pain which we cannot alleviate--during these times we reach into our collection of standard remedies. Coming up with nothing, we are forced to look beyond ourselves for the answers.

We're taught from childhood to be self-sufficient, to be strong, to pull ourselves up by the boot-straps and meet our problems head-on. We learn to rely on ourselves and to trust in our own store of knowledge. We pride ourselves in having all the answers. I've always been the kind of person who will move heaven and earth to find solutions to problems--not just my own problems, but those of everyone I care about.

I have never forgotten that message from long ago about growing through adversity. I have thought of it often and have even quoted the story to others when they faced difficulties in their own lives. But I have never wanted to embrace that theory for myself. I've tried to keep it at arm's length, remembering it and appreciating the value of the lesson, but wishing not to experience it. How many times have I found myself on my knees crying out to God, "Why, God, why? Please don't allow this, please intervene. This hurts too much."

I realize now that I've always been afraid of that message. I did not want to face adversity; I wanted God to make it all better. No adversity for me, thank you. I'm fine just the way I am. Thanks, but no thanks. I had the knowledge all along; I just didn't apply it because I was scared of it. And I certainly didn't want my children to face any adversity. Anything but that!

I'm beginning to understand something I have paid lip-service to for a long time. I can't count the number of times I have said to my children, friends, and loved ones God will allow us to hurt for a time in order to save us from ourselves. To save us from a greater pain down the road, he allows us to go through adversity to change us in areas we have kept from Him. God looks into our hearts and sees the hidden places. He sees the areas that can be redeemed only by His Grace and Mercy.

My son recently entered a Men's Recovery Home. For several years, during and after high school, he has lived his life on the edge, venturing further and further away from the principles and ideals he was raised with. He convinced himself and me too for a while, that he was in control, he was simply living the life all young men live for a time, and there was no problem. I wanted so badly to believe him. I wanted, by the sheer force of my will, for him to "pull himself up by his own boot-straps," to put the brakes on and turn back in the right direction.

Even when he racked up two consecutive DWI's and a drug charge, I wanted to blame someone or something other than him. I wanted to rescue him, to fix it for him. I didn't want to trust my son to God. I wanted to hold on to him and save him from himself. And when I recognized, finally, that I couldn't rescue him, I believed I had failed him. Admitting that I could do nothing to change the course his life was taking was unbelievably hard for me. It felt like the biggest failure of my life.

What I didn't see was that God was allowing this adversity in my son's life to give him the opportunity to grow, to change the things in his life which had twisted the path God had created for him. God wanted to give my son the opportunity to be victorious over those things that could destroy him. He wanted to do the things for my son which I could not do for him. And I had stood in the way, determined that I would be the one to save my son.

I now see that my son's adversity has also been mine. The things God wants to change in me are different from the things He wants to change in my son, but this road of adversity has been the tool God has used to allow both of us to grow. I have to let go of my son. I have to entrust him to God. I have never been willing to do that... until today.

My son will soon be twenty-four years old. When he was born, I suffered severe post-partum depression. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I did nothing but obsess over my son. I was convinced, in my severe state of depression, that God was going to take my son from me because I loved him too much. I lived in a constant state of dread that today would be the day I would lose my son forever. In my deluded mind, I had rationalized that just as God had told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, I would be required to surrender my son to God. I knew that one night I would go in to check on my son and he would not be breathing. God would have taken him. Of course, God did not allow Abraham to sacrifice his son. He wanted Abraham to trust Him with his son. Just as He has wanted me to trust Him with my son--He has wanted that for twenty-four years.

I realize now I never let go of that fear. Even though the depression abated, my rational mind restored itself and I understood that God wasn't going to take my son from me in the middle of the night, a kernel of fear lived inside me that grew into a clutching terror over the span of twenty-four years. God wanted me to be free of that terror as much as He desires for my son to be free of the things which keep him trapped in a place he was never destined to inhabit.

A good friend recently assured me in an email that I would be fine and my son would be fine. He spoke those words with such authority and confidence that I grabbed on to them and held on for dear life. I am no longer holding on to them in desperation. Now, I am standing firm, knowing he was right. I have grown through this adversity. I am finally free from the terror that held me in its grip. I have learned I can't save my son, but I can entrust him to the One who can. Yes, my son will be fine. He will grow through this adversity. He will learn to walk away from the things that have the power to destroy him. He will stand tall on his own two feet on the path that the God of the Universe sets before him. On that day, I will rejoice with him, free from the fear that bound me to him, watching as he spreads his wings and flies to heights only God could have envisioned for him.