EDEN FLORA | GUEST

I vividly remember being 22, a new college graduate, and feeling very alone. I felt overwhelmed at the life that lay ahead of me. I wondered, how do I get from where I am to where I want to go? And where do I even want to go? Being 22 was rather scary, not at all like what Taylor Swift sings, “everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we’re twenty-two.” 

The next paragraph you will read is difficult. I always feel apologetic as I head into my story. I think because it’s shocking and people often find it difficult to know how to respond. In the last semester of my college career, my reality was turned upside down. My wonderful, kind, lovely, but not dainty mother died by suicide. Though she had struggled with mental illness for years, quite obviously, it completely changed my life. 

When I think about my younger self, I long to comfort her and speak God’s truth to her. I was so scared. I couldn’t imagine anything other than that season. It felt so heavy and unmovable. I wish almost 40-year-old Eden could just sit with her and keep her company.

In the months and years following, I just tried to get by. I had no clear goals, no solid plans, and not many ideas. It was painful and lonely. Gratefully, I knew God and felt His presence. I had people that cared about me. I had access to gifted therapists. But I couldn’t get past my sorrow, though I desperately felt like I should. I kept thinking that it was time for me to not be so sad. I think it was because I didn’t want to feel sad any more. I was afraid I would remain in that place forever.

I remember reading Romans 5:3-5: “…we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

I didn’t understand how I could rejoice in my suffering. What would that look like? I wanted endurance, character, and hope. But I couldn’t see them developing. I could not see, in that moment, anything past my hurt and pain. My loving mother was gone, and I would live the rest of my life without her. My suffering was loud. At the time, endurance, character, and hope were not.

What I know now that I didn’t know then, is that this process Romans 5 speaks of isn’t quick. It’s not like a get rich quick scheme! It took a long time for me to see the beginning fruits of endurance and character. God is still working on producing such fruits in me while emboldening that hope within as He pours His love into my heart. God is still teaching me how to rejoice in this specific suffering. What I’ve learned is that it’s not suffering, then hope. But it’s suffering AND hope. We don’t have to finish one race and then start another.

And this is excellent news! It means there isn’t a time when we must be “over” our suffering. It also reminds us that it is God who is doing the work within us. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works” (Eph. 2:8-9). It is He who saves us; it is He who grows our faith. We don’t have to get it right or make sure we learn enough or work through our struggles quickly. Our growth in faith is a marathon and not a sprint. We can trust Him to bring us to the finish line.

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?” the psalmist cries out (139:7). God is closer than our breath. He is with us always.

Because God is omniscient and we are not, we do not know what He does. We do not always learn why or how He works. But we do know He loves us and is committed to His children.  He has poured His love into our hearts through the Spirit (Rom. 5:5).

An unexpected gift I received from God as a result of my story has been the opportunity to meet others in their suffering. I didn’t know at the age of 22 that some of my darkest moments would actually bring connection to people, rather than disconnection. He gives me opportunities to share the love He pours into my heart with others. My pain hasn’t stopped with me. I love that because God has brought me through darkness, I am not afraid to see, honor, and walk in other’s darkness.

I still miss my mother, Nancy. She was an absolute delight. She loved roses, the color pink, to bake, laugh, and go to the movies. I’m sad she doesn’t get to be a grandmother or even to know me as an adult. But God has used my suffering just as Romans 5 said He would. Suffering AND hope. God didn’t leave me at 22. And when suffering comes again, He won’t leave me there either.

Let’s boldly walk together trusting God in our sufferings, leaning into His timing of growing in us endurance, character, and hope. Let’s encourage each other in the promises and love of God while meeting each other where He has us.

Photo by Krists Luhaers on Unsplash