Lessons from November's Trials

Charis Corner: Stories of Grace in a Broken World

By Kari Mahara

I write this as my daughter, Ella, is having surgery. This experience has been a true test of my trust in God. For the past year, I’ve sought the Lord and painfully let Him change me. I surrendered my will. I released my need for control. I’ve turned to Him to be my strength. What I’ve found are these difficult circumstances mold me into the woman He wants me to be. And it hurts.

This past Sunday, Jared asked for people to share what God has done in their lives. I shared how this stage of my life is a struggle—learning to parent strong-willed children, coping with Ella’s upcoming surgery, and enduring countless hours alone with my children. Don’t get me wrong. I adore my children. It’s just exhausting caring for two toddlers and a willful preschooler. It’s especially difficult when I’m up throughout the night and have no break during the day. But as I shared this Sunday, it’s so liberating to surrender to God. His strength gets me through the day and gives me rest. Going through these experiences has given me some interesting insights into how God sees us.

First, my little Rudy. He’s recently decided he wants to be the boss and hold the power. You can see this clearly when I say no. He screams, throws things, balls his fists, and scowls at me. He isn’t going to roll over and accept I have his best interests in mind; he’s going to fight me tooth and nail. Why? He’s hoping I’ll cave and give him what he wants. How often do we do this with God? I’ve been writing a few pieces on when God says no. When God told me to rewrite the beginning of my novel, I gave Him the silent treatment. I sat in silence with Him, argued with Him, and sulked away without reading my Bible. Why? Because I was hoping he’d cave and give me what I wanted. But eventually, I surrendered and did what he said, and by doing so, my novel—and my faith—is much stronger.

Right now, Little Ella is under anesthesia for the first time. It’s terrifying. Rudy was videotaping Ella and I singing a song from Tangled, and I started tearing up at the end. My mind reminds me she’s going to be fine. I completely trust her doctors. But when I face God with my daughter, it’s so difficult to leave her in His hands. I have to trust Him—surrender my will to His plan—because in this situation, I have no control. There’s nothing I can do, and it’s painful. But in this instance, I can worship God through my obedience—my surrender. Instead of worrying, I’m writing about the good God has done in my life.

Through these trials, I can show God I love Him by submitting to His will and trusting Him with my greatest treasures. He helps me persevere through each trial, and I trust Him a little more each time. This has been a life verse for me.

Isaiah 49:14-16a:

“But Zion said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me.’

‘Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.’”

August

Charis Corner: Stories of Grace in a Broken World

By Kari Mahara

“I didn’t make a mistake,” God says.

My eyes widen. My mouth drops open. I’m ready to argue. I’m ready to spell it out for Him. “You’re wrong,” I whisper. Though the words escape my lips, we both recognize what they are—a lie.

His words open my eyes. Bathe my world in a new light. A sunrise erases the pain from my past—transforming the dark deeds to pastel perfection.

 I never made the right friends. I was never good enough to be “popular.” What friends I did have hurt me with their lies and rejection.

But you learned how to be a good friend. These trials made you trustworthy, loyal, and free of idle drama.

I married so young, inexperienced with the world and its responsibilities.

You both entered your marriage pure and righteous. Your commitment to each other has never faltered. Every difficult circumstance has made your marriage stronger and your love more devoted.

But twins, God? Seriously?

You already know my answer.

I grow silent. I do know the answer. My greatest blessing so far. How do I argue with that? Why would I want to? But I can’t stop myself.

My next question is a whisper. And this new dream? This isn’t a mistake?

I know the plans I have for you—plans to prosper you, not to harm you. I work all things for your good. Because you love me. I will never leave you, nor forsake you. I will take hold of your hand.  You are mine. Now, go! I will help you.

I don’t make mistakes.

Jeremiah 29:11

Romans 8:28

Joshua 1:5b

Isaiah 42:6, 43:1

Exodus 6:12

July

Stepping out my front door, hot, muggy air exhaled in my face. Ugh. This was not what I wanted to encounter at 6:45 a.m. What was I hoping to face at that early hour? Jesus.

I took a few strides, starting my Jesus walk, before I realized our house was the only one on the block without our trashcan on the curb. I groaned. But I pushed that large, brown can to the curb. And as I did so, I saw the flat tire.

I froze. What should I do? Wake up my husband early? It’s his problem! Or continue on my Jesus walk? I paused long enough to hear Him tell me to walk with Him.

I strode down the street and turned left, headed toward my favorite path, around the park. The wind cooled. The clouds blocked the sun from view. When I reached the park path, huge crows stared down at me from their perch on the baseball fence. I hurried past them, staring at my feet, not making eye contact. I don’t like birds. Especially big, black, boisterous birds. But they followed me, cawing. A chill of foreboding ran down my spine. This is a bad omen. My mind raced, consumed with worries and stressors in my life. Flat tire. Dead battery. Failing brakes. Father’s Day expenses. Ill daughter.

And then I realized Jesus was not anywhere in my thoughts or on my walk. I had pushed him out of my way. I was attempting to make a plan to handle these issues on my own. Immediately, I turned to Him. He strolled by my side, silent and serene, as He had in Eden (“They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day,” Genesis 3:8a). Okay, not literally at my side, but I imagined He was, even if I couldn’t see Him. I confessed my fears and surrendered control. Then I fell silent.

He said, “I’m not here to keep you from trouble. But to walk with you through it.”

We walked together, neither speaking, enjoying each other’s presence. The wind died down. The sun peeked through the clouds. Oranges and pinks colored the fluffy clouds. In that moment, I knew this wasn’t the end. There would be more trouble. But as long as I had Him by my side, I would make it to the other side. With joy, peace, and freedom from fear.

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world,” John 16:33.

June

Charis Corner: Stories of Grace in a Broken World

By Karen Mahara

One spring morning, a little tree looked around the deserted park.  The sky was clear; the sun warm against her trunk. Other trees—more mature and grander than her—lined the path, weaving around baseball diamonds and children’s playground equipment. She longed to converse with these ancients, but they never once glanced her way. She stretched her limbs and shook her leaves, hoping to draw their attention. But they didn’t even notice. Tears filled her eyes. Her branches sagged in defeat. They’d never see her as anything other than a little tree. With each tear that slipped to the ground, the little tree accepted her fate. Alone. Unwanted. Invisible.

To her surprise, the sun dissolved her tears, making the ground dry once more. The little tree stared up at the bright sun in the sky. Its rays of light stretched from the ground up the entire length of the tree, bathing her bark and leaves in its delicious warmth. In that moment, the little tree knew she wasn’t alone. The sun saw her as she was and loved her. She lifted her head and straightened her branches, and that little tree began to grow.

No matter how alone or insignificant we may feel, love is all around us. He walks alongside us everyday, even when we’re broken. And sometimes our tears are the very life-giving water God uses to help us grow.

But also a word of caution. Busyness can keep you from noticing the lonely ones around you and cause you to miss the warmth of the Son.