I’ve never chosen a word for the year–I’ve often said that God has much more to say to me than one word. 🙂

But a phrase that has come to mind often these last weeks is “bear up.” I can get down and whiny over not feeling well or first world problems or barren winter landscapes or several overcast days in a row or a number of other relatively minor things.

But every day can’t be sunshine and roses. We live in a fallen world. As Longfellow said in “The Rainy Day,” “Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.”

God has said all through Scripture to expect suffering, and He tells us He uses it for our spiritual growth.

Overcast days and long winters aren’t really suffering. Sure, they can affect one’s outlook. There is such a thing as Seasonal Affective Disorder. But my “winter blues” aren’t to that extreme and can’t really compare to cancer and chemo or persecution.

Proverbs 24:10 comes to mind: “If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength is small.”

Yes, it is. And if it’s so small in these minor issues, what’s it going to be when a major crisis comes my way?

The second stanza in Amy Carmichael’s poem, “Make Me Thy Fuel,” says:

From subtle love of softening things,
From easy choices, weakenings,
Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified;
From all that dims Thy Calvary,
O Lamb of God, deliver me.

Softening things? Easy choices? That’s my jam. I am not soldiery. I am a wimp.

So I feel the need to learn to “bear up” under the everyday trials of life–both to be a better testimony and to become more resilient when bigger hardships happen.

I like the NKJV translation of 2 Timothy 2:3: “You therefore must endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.”

I don’t think enduring hardship means being stoic. David was a soldier, but he poured out his heart in the psalms.

Nor do we need to deny our pain or frustration or sadness, large or small. A broken toe may not hurt as much as a crushed leg, but it does hurt. However, we need God’s perspective on our trials.

Enduring hardship doesn’t mean we can’t pray or that we deal with the small stuff and only go to God with the big things. We’re told to “[cast] all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7, emphasis mine).

But we can “[look] to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).

We can pray to be “strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy” (Colossians 1:11).

Both of those last two verses mentioned joy. What joy? The joy that someday, all trials and pain and suffering of any size will be over (Revelation 21:4). The joy that no matter what we go through, God is with His children (Isaiah 43:2). The joy that He provides help, strength, and grace (2 Corinthians 12:8-10). The joy that He uses trials to test our faith and perfect us (James 1:2-4).

In an older book titled Formula for Family Unity, Walter and Trudy Fremont shared an example of a mother trying to help her son as he gets ready to go out in the cold to do his paper route. She had an overly sympathetic attitude, saying, “Oh, honey, it’s so cold out there; I’m afraid you’ll freeze on your paper route.” The son then felt sorry for himself for having to go out in the cold. They suggest it would be better for the mother to say, “When you finish your paper route, I’ll have a cup of hot chocolate waiting and a good breakfast” (pp. 103-104). She acknowledges that his job is cold and hard, but in a way that braces him to face it.

We, too, can reframe how we think about the things that get us down. Cold, grey winter days? God is still working even through dormancy. Hard freezes reduce the number of bugs that show up in summer. I can work on inside projects or curl up with a book and a blanket.

Minor illnesses that reduce my energy for a few days? How often have I wished I could stop the normal routine and rest or read or engage in quiet activities. Here’s the perfect opportunity.

Several overcast days in a row? They make me appreciate sunshine even more. I can keep busy with pleasant or useful occupations or play uplifting music rather than focus on the grey skies.

One reason God allows trials in our lives is to draw our attention and foster our dependence on Him. I can all too easily feel sorry for myself and then feed my self-pity. Instead, I need to preach God’s truth to myself and rely on His grace and strength.

May “God . . . who comforts the downcast,” “who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word” (2 Corinthians 7:6; 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17).

(Just to be clear: I am not trying to make light of anything anyone is going through, or to say “Just grin and bear it.” I’m sharing my thought process about my own tendency to maximize smaller trials.)

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