Job was a man who certainly knew trouble and temptation, and yet he boldly claimed, “Though He slay me, I will hope in Him” (Job 13:15). That is commitment. Job had lost his children, his fortune, and his health, but he refused to abandon faith in God. The stricken man was determined to hold on because he trusted the Lord to do right.

Unwavering commitment to trust the Lord in all situations is a cornerstone of unshakable faith. From the vantage point of that foundation, we can focus our eyes upon God alone. It is easy to be distracted by circumstances and allow them to dictate our emotions. But if that’s the case, then when life is good, we’re happy; when times are tough, we’re frustrated; and when hardship pours in, we’re downright miserable and looking for escape.

Unlike Job, we are fortunate to have Scripture, which reveals God’s nature and promises. And it is a wise believer who claims those promises when enduring hardship. For His Word tells us that our Father is always good, always just, always faithful, and always trustworthy. When we take our eyes off the whirl of day-to-day activity and concentrate on honoring Him and following in His way, we find a consistent peace that carries us through both plenty and poverty.

In order to hold on to God through any trial or temptation, commit to trust and follow Him all of your days. Lay claim to His promises: The unchanging Lord and Savior (Heb. 13:8) is committed to caring for you in all circumstances (1 Peter 5:7) and will never leave or forsake you (Heb. 13:5).

There is a part of me that feels the twinge of being scolded whenever my name is spoken to me. “Jill, what are you doing?” “Hurry, Jill, we need to go.” (Perhaps those of us that share this idiosyncrasy got in trouble a lot as kids.) But I have often wondered how Peter felt when Jesus’s scathing rebuke confronted not “Peter,” which would have yet had its sting, but “Satan.”

In those days, Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and teachers of the law. He began to explain to those who loved him that he would be put to death. Peter, like most of us reacting to the suffering of our loved ones, swore to protect him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!” I can only imagine his shock at Jesus’s response. Jesus turned to Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things” (Matthew 16:23).

I cannot read that passage without picturing my reaction to those words. I probably would have been devastated. But I also know that when Jesus says something devastating it seems to be something I should pay attention to all the more. The intensity of his reaction to Peter portrays the intensity with which he knew he had to suffer, the weight of history, prophecy, and salvation he felt on his soldiers, and his severe understanding of our need for his affliction. To get in the way of his necessary suffering was to be as an enemy obstructing the plan of God.

As I look at Peter standing before Christ with good intentions, not wanting to see the one he loved broken or defeated, I wonder how many times I, too, have obstructed suffering God deemed necessary. My gut reaction in the face of pain—my own and others—is to make it stop. Like Peter I vow to fix it, not knowing what I mean, just wanting it gone. Yet in the midst of suffering, Jesus warns, we must decide whether we will have in mind the things of humanity or the things of God.

The Christian understanding of suffering might seem odd to the world around it, for it is forged at the foot of the Cross. At the Cross, is the unpopular suggestion that God’s plan for our lives includes suffering. Christ was wounded and crushed for our iniquities. By the suffering and shame he endured, we are healed. Can God not also have a plan for our own pain?

As one theologian notes, “Jesus did not die in order to spare us the indignities of a wounded creation. He died that we might see those wounds as our own.”(1) At the Cross, we see our sin and the suffering that we have caused because of it. But we also find meaning even in suffering that doesn’t come as a result of our sin. We see, as Paul observed, that suffering produces perseverance, that we are purified in its fires, that what was meant for ill God intends for good. We see that Christ who suffered for us, so walks with us in our own suffering. “For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ” (2 Corinthians 1:5). At the Cross, we see that some suffering is not only necessary but meaningful. 

Peter not only picked himself up from a rebuke more severe than anything he heard Jesus give the Pharisees, he took Jesus’s words to heart. In a letter meant to encourage fellow believers, he wrote, “It is commendable if a man bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because he is conscious of God” (1 Peter 2:19). Peter chose in the end to keep in mind not on human things, but the things of God.

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Peter Gomes, Sermons (New York: Morrow, 1998), 72.

Morning “Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the eventide.” / Genesis 24:63

Very admirable was his occupation. If those who spend so many hours in idle
company, light reading, and useless pastimes, could learn wisdom, they would
find more profitable society and more interesting engagements in meditation
than in the vanities which now have such charms for them. We should all know
more, live nearer to God, and grow in grace, if we were more alone. Meditation
chews the cud and extracts the real nutriment from the mental food gathered
elsewhere. When Jesus is the theme, meditation is sweet indeed. Isaac found
Rebecca while engaged in private musings; many others have found their best
beloved there.

Very admirable was the choice of place. In the field we have a study hung
round with texts for thought. From the cedar to the hyssop, from the soaring
eagle down to the chirping grasshopper, from the blue expanse of heaven to a
drop of dew, all things are full of teaching, and when the eye is divinely
opened, that teaching flashes upon the mind far more vividly than from written
books. Our little rooms are neither so healthy, so suggestive, so agreeable,
or so inspiring as the fields. Let us count nothing common or unclean, but
feel that all created things point to their Maker, and the field will at once
be hallowed.

Very admirable was the season. The season of sunset as it draws a veil over
the day, befits that repose of the soul when earthborn cares yield to the joys
of heavenly communion. The glory of the setting sun excites our wonder, and
the solemnity of approaching night awakens our awe. If the business of this
day will permit it, it will be well, dear reader, if you can spare an hour to
walk in the field at eventide, but if not, the Lord is in the town too, and
will meet with thee in thy chamber or in the crowded street. Let thy heart go
forth to meet him.

Evening “And I will give you an heart of flesh.” / Ezekiel 36:26

A heart of flesh is known by its tenderness concerning sin. To have indulged a
foul imagination, or to have allowed a wild desire to tarry even for a moment,
is quite enough to make a heart of flesh grieve before the Lord. The heart of
stone calls a great iniquity nothing, but not so the heart of flesh.

“If to the right or left I stray,

That moment, Lord, reprove;

And let me weep my life away,

For having grieved thy love”

The heart of flesh is tender of God’s will. My Lord Will-be-will is a great
blusterer, and it is hard to subject him to God’s will; but when the heart of
flesh is given, the will quivers like an aspen leaf in every breath of heaven,
and bows like an osier in every breeze of God’s Spirit. The natural will is
cold, hard iron, which is not to be hammered into form, but the renewed will,
like molten metal, is soon moulded by the hand of grace. In the fleshy heart
there is a tenderness of the affections. The hard heart does not love the
Redeemer, but the renewed heart burns with affection towards him. The hard
heart is selfish and coldly demands, “Why should I weep for sin? Why should I
love the Lord?” But the heart of flesh says; “Lord, thou knowest that I love
thee; help me to love thee more!” Many are the privileges of this renewed
heart; “‘Tis here the Spirit dwells, ’tis here that Jesus rests.” It is fitted
to receive every spiritual blessing, and every blessing comes to it. It is
prepared to yield every heavenly fruit to the honour and praise of God, and
therefore the Lord delights in it. A tender heart is the best defence against
sin, and the best preparation for heaven. A renewed heart stands on its
watchtower looking for the coming of the Lord Jesus. Have you this heart of
flesh?

And I will give you a new heart …A heart of flesh.  Ezekiel 36:26

 A “heart of flesh” is known by its tenderness concerning sin. To have indulged a foul imagination or to have allowed a wild desire to linger even for a moment is quite enough to make a heart of flesh grieve before the Lord. The heart of stone calls a great iniquity nothing, but not so the heart of flesh.

If to the right or left I stray,

That moment, Lord, reprove;

And let me weep my life away,

For having grieved Thy love.

The heart of flesh is tender to God’s will. Unlike a strong heart that refuses to bow before God’s dictates, when the heart of flesh is given, the will quivers like an aspen leaf in every breath of heaven and bows like a willow in every breeze of God’s Spirit. The natural will is cold, hard iron, which refuses to be hammered into form, but the renewed will, like molten metal, is quickly molded by the hand of grace. In the fleshy heart there is a tenderness of the affections. The hard heart does not love the Redeemer, but the renewed heart burns with affection toward Him.

The hard heart is selfish and coldly demands, “Why should I weep for sin? Why should I love the Lord?” But the heart of flesh says, “Lord, You know that I love You; help me to love You more!” There are many privileges of this renewed heart. It is here the Spirit dwells; it is here that Jesus lives. It is fitted to receive every spiritual blessing, and every blessing comes to it. It is prepared to yield every heavenly fruit to the honor and praise of God, and therefore the Lord delights in it. A tender heart is the best defense against sin and the best preparation for heaven. A renewed heart stands on its watchtower looking for the coming of the Lord Jesus. Do you have this heart of flesh?

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 43   Psalm 19