Comfort

Two and a half weeks ago, I slammed my middle finger in the door as I was leaving the house.

I can't remember if I cried out or not, but my instant reaction was to shove my finger in my mouth. I ran back inside and ran cold water over it. I knew I needed to get ice but I couldn't bear to pull my finger out from under the water long enough to get an ice cube from the freezer.  My fingernail was a dark purple instantly.

Now the swelling has gone down and my dead, black fingernail is curling in on the sides, getting ready to fall off. For about a week I had to keep icing it because the pain was so persistent and the swelling so extreme.

When it became clear to me that I was wallowing in self-pity about my poor fingernail, I couldn't help but remember the post I wrote a couple months ago in response to the book I was reading, Tortured for Christ. I couldn't help but remember the story from that book of a pastor persecuted for his faith in Communist Russia. One of his particular punishments was having all his fingernails and toenails torn off.

How could I feel sorry for myself when he faced this pain so bravely? How could I be so miserable because of one smashed finger, in pain but so very far from death, when others, even today, stand on the brink of death and find joy in their suffering because they suffer for Christ?

I knew that I must find joy in my suffering. I spent about an hour journaling about this, talking to my Lord about the hope I have in the joy of Heaven and how my current pain is brief and endurable if I must suffer it as a prerequisite to such everlasting treasure.

Still, it became clear to me that I have an idolatry problem: the idol of comfort.

What do I want so very badly?
I want rest. I want to be warm. I want to be well-fed. I want to be happy. I want to live in a nice house with nice furnishings. I want sexual comfort (as opposed to the sexual tension and sexual destitution that comes with singleness). I want nice smells. I want tasty food. I want to have free time. I want to read pleasant novels. I want to be free from pain. I want to have money to spare. I want a new car. I want a full closet of clothes. I want the freedom to travel and do as I please. I want nice weather every day, all year round. I want to be healthy. I want constant emotional support. I want nice friends with comfortable lives like mine. I want fast internet and considerate drivers. I want to be spared from any and all awkward situations. I want to be lazy and have someone to do my work for me. I want to be a brat and not feel guilty about it. I want to be smarter/prettier/more talented/better than other people so that I can have plenty of confidence (or cockiness, whatever). Et cetera. Et cetera. Et cetera.

I want to be comfortable.

Now, find me a single Bible passage that says this is God's desire for me.

...No? Nothing?

And yet, when I remember that God certainly does not call me to these things (even though I have lived in the luxury of many of them for most if not all of my life), I despair. I remember that what God might call me to is pain. What if my smashed fingernail is just the beginning?

This is where I discover yet another lie that I am believing: the lie that if I reject my idol of comfort and embrace a life of following Christ, I will be miserable. The lie that I will not only be sacrificing wealth, physical well-being, and general comfort, I will be sacrificing joy.

I don't have a solution to this problem. I can't wrap up this particular blog post in a nice bow, because I am still fighting this idol and still fighting these lies. And although I may and hope to make great progress in this area as the years of my life pass, I suspect I will struggle with it my whole life.

After all, as I write this post I have been going back up to the list of things I want and adding things to it. This is my sin. I'm not saying I should have the things I want. I'm not saying there is anything good (or inherently wrong, in most cases) about my having them. But I am saying that I have a problem. And I am saying that this problem is quite extensive.

So far my progress (thanks to the Holy Spirit) amounts to recognizing the idol and recognizing the lie and beginning the process of conversing with God about it.

We'll see how far I've come in fifty or so years.


God bless.