Christ Be Magnified

“I’m mad at God. How could He do this? I know in my head that God knows better than I do, but my heart doesn’t feel it right now.” 

Sitting in the front pew of my church, while my husband preached to the congregation, I wrote those lines in my journal. I wish I could tell you that I was paying attention, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to listen. God didn’t care about me, so He didn’t deserve my attention that day. 

When I was thirteen years old, the pain began. I woke up one morning, and as I dismounted from my top bunk, every movement hurt. Sharp pain raced through my toes to my ankle. I climbed down the stairs to the living room, holding onto the railing because I was afraid of the pain. I told no one. Not even my parents. 

Weeks later, the pain spread to my knees. They swelled to twice their original size. I cried every morning because I knew how it felt to get out of bed. Then my feet began to swell too. My parents began to notice, and we all knew something was wrong with me. In school, my teachers gave me chairs to prop my feet up during class and allowed me to take off my shoes when they stopped fitting near the end of the day. I was so embarrassed. Everyone was looking at me. They all began treating me differently. Then the doctor appointments began. 

Eventually, the pain and swelling traveled through my body to my fingers. They swelled and became crooked, and I couldn’t even hold my hairbrush or button my pants. Every time I bent my fingers, my eyes filled with tears of frustration because no matter how hard I tried, my fingers wouldn’t move. The final straw. I was helpless–my absolute worst fear in this world. It’s been over ten years, and my fingers are still crooked. They will never be normal again. 

After months of doctor’s appointments and millions of looks of pity from strangers, friends, and family, I finally heard the name of my illness. The words that to this day I hate to utter because they remind me of my limitations. 

Rheumatoid Arthritis. 

You would think that knowing my illness would make me feel better. Now I have clarity, right? I know what’s wrong with me. But that’s precisely what bothers me so much. I know what’s wrong with me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m stuck with it. Rheumatoid arthritis will always follow me no matter where I go. It’s a part of who I am, whether I like it or not. 

I was officially diagnosed at age 14. Ever since that day, I’ve prayed for God to take it away. I know that He can heal me if He wants to, but He doesn’t. He has provided doctors and medicine, and because of these things my pain and swelling are almost non-existent. But I still have the disease even if I can’t feel it at the time. Every pill I take, every shot I have to give myself, I’m reminded that I’m sick. Ten years after my diagnosis, this disease still affects me and limits me. Why won’t He take it away? 

***

When I wrote those lines in my journal on that Sunday morning, I had just received news that my arthritis had once again limited me from something I’ve always wanted. Something that God has put on my heart since I was a little girl. But my plans had to change because I’m sick. I’m sick with a disease that God could have healed, but He continues to allow it to plague my life. It’s been over ten years, and I still do not understand why this has happened to me. 

But every time I question God’s goodness, every time I question His love for me, He points me back to the same passage in 2 Corinthians 12. Verses 8-10 read, 

Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Someone pointed out those verses to me when I was 14, and they continue to comfort me ten years later. Paul pleaded with God over and over again to rid him of his thorn. Even if we don’t know what exactly that thorn was, we know it was something that bothered him but that God refused to take from him. But rather than being angry with God, Paul recognizes that in his weakness, Christ’s power shines all the more. In Paul’s weakness, he was content because he knew that God uses people’s weaknesses to teach them reliance on Himself. 

To be honest, that isn’t always a comforting thought. I want my arthritis gone. Every time I can’t do something because I’m in pain, every time I’m rejected because I’m sick, my heart sinks. I will always plead to God for healing because I know that He is the Great Physician.

And yet, as I continue to cry out to God for relief, He doesn’t physically heal me. I hold out hope that one day He will, but for now, and maybe for the rest of my life, that is not His will for me. I may not understand it, but neither did Paul. All he knew was that in his weakness, Christ’s power shone greater. When Paul was weak in his flesh, he was strong because he drew his strength from Christ, not himself. 

One song that has comforted and convicted me over the past few weeks is called Christ be Magnified by Cody Carnes. The bridge of this song catches my attention every time I hear it: 

I won't bow to idols, I'll stand strong and worship You

And if it puts me in the fire, I'll rejoice 'cause You're there too

I won't be formed by feelings, I hold fast to what is true

If the cross brings transformation then I'll be crucified with You

'Cause death is just the doorway into resurrection life

And if I join You in Your suffering, then I'll join You when You rise

And when You return in glory with all the angels and the saints

My heart will still be singing, my song will be the same

The words of this bridge are weighty and shouldn’t be sung lightly. I have to stop myself sometimes and ask if I truly mean what I’m singing because that line “if it puts me in the fire, I’ll rejoice cause You’re there too” is not something to say if you aren’t ready to actually be put in the fire. I asked myself today, am I willing to let go of my own life, my own desires for physical healing, in order to be transformed by Christ? 

Paul said that in his weakness, he is made strong, and this song echoes that sentiment. Christ is magnified when we’re weak because He is always with us. When we’re weak, when we’re put through the fire, whatever that looks like in your life, Christ is right there with you. He’s here with me as I suffer through my pain and limitations in my arthritis. He’s with you in whatever struggles, whether physical or emotional, that you’re experiencing today. He’s in the fire with you, and that might not mean He delivers you from it. But it does mean there’s hope in the midst of it. 

The second half of these lyrics talk about hope. Even though this life brings suffering, even though we will die, it’s all worth it because “death is just a doorway into resurrection life.” As followers of Christ, we have hope that we will be with Him one day. I have hope that even if God chooses not to heal me from my arthritis in this life, one day I’ll never have to take another pill again because my body will be restored. 

One day, I will be made well. But in the meantime, whether He chooses to heal me or simply comfort me in the midst of the fire, I pray that Christ will be magnified.