Dumping the Lie of Worthlessness
Continuing the Conversation…
The Full Assurance of God’s Love
“…the full assurance of faith is not the belief that we are saved, but that we are loved.”
Leaky Faith
The helplessness of cancer recovery propelled me onto a battlefield for the deeper implications of faith. While struggling with persistent pain and emotional valleys, I would discover my faith had leaks. My beliefs about God’s presence and goodness were not in question, but I misunderstood the basis of God’s love for me. As an invalid for a season, I would doubt my worth to God or to anyone. And the power of my faith trickled out.
I grasp Vinet’s statement better, by exchanging “assurance” for the synonym “confidence.” The full confidence of faith…is that we are loved. Those words make my soul inhale with joy and exhale in relief. Without the confidence of assured love, the struggle with self-worth may suffocate faith, depleting peace and the strength to endure. That was the test I faced.
Drowning in Helplessness
Extensive abdominal surgery and colon re-construction left me unable to care for myself, or anyone else, for several months. In the beginning, I could not even turn myself over to shift positions. After my discharge from the hospital to recover at home, I could not bend or lift. Tubes connected the processes of my bodily functions. Often an IV drip stayed connected to my arm, along with a catheter for my bladder and a colostomy bag for my intestines. Constant discomfort and dependency ruled my world.
My feeble state forced us to enroll my two preschool children in daycare so my husband could return to work. I felt useless. My role as a stay-at-home mom, a goal we had saved and planned for, evaporated. Early each morning my husband would dress the children as I rolled my IV-stand slowly to the couch and eased down to sit. My two babies scrambled up on either side of me, and I snuggled them until my husband prepared to leave at 7:00 a.m. They ate breakfast at the preschool facility—among strangers. It broke my heart. Our time together on the couch, before breakfast and then again before bedtime, delivered the full extent of mothering I could manage.
During these tough days, God provided through family and friends who helped carry our load: stocking the refrigerator, transportation to Mom’s Day Out, play dates for my little ones, encouragers sharing spaghetti meals with my husband, and women kneeling to pray over me. Though I inhabited a low place, I watched the tenderness of God touching so many areas of our need. I did not doubt his presence or care, but I felt like a burden to everyone.
Faith Rescued
Suffering entangles the spirit with the body, and my emotions slid downhill. I grieved watching my husband function as a single parent—performing his job and mine, while also worrying about me.
One afternoon, exhausted from trying to bolster my outlook with faith, I gave way to the feelings dragging me downward. In a half-hearted conversation with God, I remember weeping, overwhelmed by the fingerprints of his grace appearing in all corners of our need. I wanted to express gratitude but had nothing physical to offer. I could barely pray. In raw candor, I sobbed, “I can’t do anything but lie here and love you!”
In that moment, I felt a clear response arise from the depths of my heart: “That’s all I ever wanted you to do.”
Instantly, I felt as if someone had pulled back the curtains in a dark room, letting a fresh breeze and healing sunlight flow over me. The downward despair lifted. I had grieved because I felt worthless, and I felt worthless because of my helplessness. God broke the chains of those taunting thoughts that dragged me under. He declared his love over me. He reminded me he required nothing but my heart.
Faith’s Full Assurance
“If I were never able to perform another good deed, the ocean of his love on which I floated would never diminish one drop. ”
I then realized any acts to serve him belong to a separate category of expression. He delights in my gifts, but they do not impact the reservoir of love he holds for me. If I were never able to perform another good deed, the ocean of his love on which I floated would never diminish one drop. The sea lifts the child’s paper boat as happily as the cargo ship.
Eventually, I recovered and returned to my role as full-time wife and mother. Difficult days faded as normal routines refilled the outlines of our life again. But I never forgot the startling realization of my acceptance within the unconditional love of God. He led me to the greater implications of my faith, the place where peace and strength reside. I plugged the leak and dumped the lie of worthlessness overboard.
Good deeds should naturally arise from faith that overflows with gratitude. But now I know these expressions belong to the “extra” category, a variety of wrappings and ribbons for the heart-gift of each action. Sometimes life events sideline me, and I have no decorations for the love that flies to him. But God’s joy remains undiminished by the naked place of my offering. He delights in the demonstration of my faith—the assurance that I am loved.
How can the truth of God’s love repair where your faith leaks now?
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