There is a uniqueness to every Christian’s journey: unique battles, unique triumphs, unique roads to which we are called to travel. We are all bidden to follow, but where Christ leads us and through what He leads us are not universal experiences. Many of you recognize this. Many of you know that the life to which you have been called is not one that many have experienced. There can be a sting that comes with this uniqueness. It hurts to watch the children born around the same time as your child hit milestones and celebrate achievements while you watch from the sidelines. It hurts to realize that you know the brands of wheelchairs as well as other parents know the brands of bikes and basketball hoops. It hurts to watch the parade and know you are not necessarily part of it. At times it doesn’t just hurt, it terrifies.  

I Remember…

I remember one experience during my time caring for Colette, it was during one of her many hospital admissions and she was going for a test that required general anesthesia. I held her till it was time for her to go to the operating room then made my way to a chair in the waiting room. My mind was wrapped up with the trouble I was having getting Colette to nurse. She was about four or five months old; she was on round two or three of chemotherapy and was increasingly resistant to nursing. I opened my phone and began to search for some guidance. I typed: “trouble nursing infant during chemotherapy.” Nothing. Puzzled, I tried some other phrases only to stumble upon two personal stories, neither of which were about babies as young as Colette. I began to feel sick. The rarity of my situation hit me. There wasn’t much information because there weren’t many mothers that were trying to nurse a four-month-old going through chemotherapy. I felt the tears forming in my eyes, and I felt myself sinking. What was I doing? What was I going to do? How could I care for Colette? This was impossible. The fear and anxiety gripped me.  

Your Unique Journey…

Many of you are on these unique journeys with your children. You are traveling down roads that few have walked. Some of you may feel you are not even traveling down a road at all so unstable the landscape feels beneath your feet. Like Peter, it may feel as though you have been asked to walk on water. Over the side of the boat you have plunged, and shakily you are trying to follow. You are striving to make a home for your child in the hospital, trying to interpret your nonverbal child’s needs, trying to live with the weight of forever not knowing what tomorrow will bring. One foot clumsily in front of the other, you are trying to step forward while the storm rages around you. You, my friend, are on a unique journey.   

Like that day I experienced in the waiting room, it is so easy to begin to sink– so easy to let the noise of the storm drown out the voice of your Savior. And yet, to those of you who have been called to walk on water, it must be acknowledged that there must be a way to walk on water, or our Savior would not have called you to it. There is a way through the storm, a way to gain stability while journeying along a path of instability.   

A Way to Walk on Water…

The Apostle Paul, a man I have learned to love for his experience and skill in the art of “walking on water” through some particularly treacherous moments, speaks of the secret of this skill in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 saying, “Do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.” He writes to believers instructing them of the hope of stability that can grow from the inside out rather than from the outside in. The outward man, the external surroundings and circumstances, may be anything but secure and stable; however, Paul teaches of a strength that can be renewed “day by day.” This strength is a strength that comes through confidence in the truth. Specifically, Paul is speaking about the truth about suffering.  

Sorrow is Temporary…

 Paul urges Christ-followers to remember that suffering or heartache is “but for a moment.” The pain you feel, the sting, the frustration and sorrow—it is temporary. Friends, I know it doesn’t feel true, but this hard calling, this unique journey you are on is not an eternal one. The sorrow, the loneliness, the fear—it has an end date. It will not last. If you want to walk on water, you must renew your mind day by day by assuring yourself that the journey is not forever. Your child will not always be in treatment. Your child will not always be silent. Your heart will not always tremble at the thought of tomorrow. There is a day coming when all sorrow will be put right for those who follow Jesus Christ. There will be a day when your eyes will look into His and the last tear will be wiped from your eyes. If you want to walk on water, hold fast to the truth: the pain is not forever. The ache you feel at this very moment will one day come to an end.  

Glory is to Come…

 The second truth that Paul urges upon those who would be water-walkers is that suffering is creating in you an “eternal weight of glory.” (vs. 17) Pain is never a neutral thing. God does not call His children to walk paths of heartache merely on a capricious whim. Suffering is meant to sanctify. It is meant to transform us. It humbles us—teaching us our own weaknesses and our need for a gracious Heavenly Friend. It is meant to create a need that forces us to draw near. The confusion, the questions, they are meant to lead us to look up, to behold the face of a God Who in mercy has been waiting to meet our gaze. Suffering also gives us the opportunity to develop in Christlikeness. We learn to be patient, to be gentle, to love when we least feel like it.  

Pain properly responded to transforms us; and what Paul wants you to recognize is that it transforms our future. Before us lies eternity—it will be colored by the way you live your life now. The extent to which you suffer for the glory of God will correspond to the extent to which you will receive eternal reward. There will be no act of gentleness towards your child that will have been overlooked, no sacrifice of comfort, no abandoning of personal dreams that will not receive the acknowledgement and reward it deserves. He sees. He knows. Your ministry to your child behind closed doors will be honored before all. You are building for yourself an eternal weight of glory. Do not forget this. Take it to heart. Day by day—in weariness and in times of confusion, lay up for yourself “treasures in heaven.” You live now like no one else you know—embrace the calling, take up the work. Let it sanctify and transform you, knowing that one day you will receive a reward like no one else you know.   

Focusing on the Invisible…

Paul concludes his instruction by bidding those who suffer to learn to “look not on the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen (vs. 18). Gaze with the eyes of faith on what is coming—not on what currently surrounds you. The waves are high, the storm is fierce—but look beyond and through it all on what is before you. Before you stands your Savior bidding you come, assuring you of His presence every step of the way. Before you is heaven. There will be rest, peace, victory, and triumph. Before you is your reward. Don’t lose heart. Don’t look around. Fix your eyes on Him and walk on water.  

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” Romans 8:18