The stripping-bare and ripping-away
What to do when things don’t go our way
In January 2023, Tim and I left our beloved South Africa and moved to the other side of the world. I had so many hopes and ideals for this season of life and it’s wild how so few of them were fulfilled. I don’t say that to be negative — there are so many other surprising joys and gifts that we have been given along the way! But what I’ve been most surprised by is God’s consistent push in the direction of dealing with disappointments and disillusionments in order to become more free to live a life without myself at the centre of it.
This year I’ve been unemployed for almost 4 months of the year, worked (hard!) as a nanny for 6 months, haven’t worked as a speech therapist for almost a year, really struggled to write and create music (missing my keys!), sprained my ankle (twice) which meant no running for about 4 months of the year, and to top it all off we’ve moved 4 times within the year.
In so many ways, so many of the things that I usually would’ve used to identify myself were stripped away and it’s been an interesting journey of trying to figure out who I am without all the labels of speech therapist, daughter, in-close-proximity best friend, songwriter, runner, etc. And I’m such an aesthetics gal that even not having our crockery and glassware from our home in South Africa has been an identity issue for me — not proud to admit that!
But this year really begged the question of me: Who do I think I am when I don’t have all the things that I think make me valuable to other people? And the resounding answer was: I don’t have a clue! There have been many questions for God; questions about purpose, timing and identity. There have been real wrestles with the way some things have worked out. But over all that, there has been this revealed kindness in God’s questions of me: who are you? Who do you say I am? Where would your own hopes and desires take you?
These hidden lessons along the way were an unexpected twist. I won’t say I’ve always recognised those lessons easily — I think I’ve been more like a young child on a treasure hunt who basically needs someone to point out the hiding spots to me before I can see them myself. But God’s patient persistence has been there all along, this stubborn sense that taking the harder way through will yield the greatest fruit and joy in the long run. And God answered my initial question about identity by showing me that I am His, just His. What a relief that God is not impressed by my doing: I don’t have to be impressive! What a relief that even when I cannot do all the things and fulfill all the roles I feel I should, Jess still exists and means something to God. I cannot begin to describe what a joyful lesson that has been.
I’ve often been told I have a flair for the dramatic (very fair), so I will acknowledge upfront that I know there are a lot worse things in life than moving to a Caribbean Island — even if it was not as I’d imagined. But I think that disappointment and discontentment can find us in many different places, seasons and ways. And the questions of who we are when things don’t go our way, who we believe God is when things don’t go our way and the way we choose to navigate those seasons are vital to who we become over the span of a lifetime. There is no use in suppressing these questions for fear of what the answers might be — that will only breed resentment and distance! Just the other day I said to my husband Tim, “I don’t know how to talk to God about [a disappointment] because He’s the one I’m upset with.” Just admitting that out loud was such a relief and opened a door to actually talk to God about my feelings; the peace and compassion that God met me with was a kindness that led me back to repentance and trust. God is not afraid of our disappointments, never thrown off by our questions and offenses — He longs to meet us in them and teach us.
A verse that has, at different times this year, comforted me, frustrated me and challenged me is John 15 vs 2: “Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit”. Ouch! That doesn’t sound fun. And oftentimes it really isn’t. But something I’m often reminded of is that God’s goodness does not mean that life will always be fun or easy. But it does mean that the seasons that are difficult or painful will yield good fruit, it will yield that which is eternal and cannot be taken away from us. It will yield a character that is rooted in Christ, it will yield goodness and justice for the communities we’re in, it will yield Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven in some small way. And that is worth wading through the deep and uncertain waters of pain, disappointment, and questioning for.
I’ll end with a quote from something I wrote 2 years ago (apparently I’m a slow learner):
“I’m so grateful for all the things that I’ve held so dear that have been taken away from me; really I am. Because I realise how little I need them and how much more I need Jesus. I realise what harsh masters many of the things we let rule our lives are and how much kinder Jesus is to us than we are to ourselves. And I realise that Jesus never lets me down; maybe my ideas of him let me down, but never the real person of Jesus.
Count it all joy when you undergo the stripping-bare and the ripping-away. Thank the Lord that His grip on us is stronger than our grip on the things that want to suffocate us and steal our joy.”
