27.02 | Beyond the Clouds
Romans 5
‘Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.’
Romans 5:2-5
I’ve climbed Britain’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis, three times. And every time, it’s been cloudy at the top. I’m told the view is sensational on a good day, but so far all I’ve seen is the inside of the Ben Nevis cloud.
I’m not bitter. British mountain climbing can be like this. You spend a lot of time in the clouds. It’s tough work, but it’s also work that is taking you somewhere. Because, there are moments, when the high winds of altitude blow away the clouds, that you get breathtaking views. You go from the hard graft of damp fog to the dazzling clarity that only elevation can bring.
Paul writes a little like this. He gives a lot of content, deep and weighty and full. It can be dense stuff—even Peter found Paul’s letters to be dense.1 But Paul also puts in summary moments—where the clouds part and you see the big picture vision of how all this will utterly transform your life.
The beginning of chapter five is one of these moments. Step back, breathe, take in the view; and then we’re plunging in again.
So what does he say?
Because of everything we’ve just read, Paul says, we can rejoice in the midst of suffering.
What is your place of suffering?
Physical? Financial? Emotional? Your mental health?
Insomnia? Political instability? Relational? Failure?
These places? These places that cost us so very deeply? Those places where we’re most prone to doubt and weeping and questioning whether God notices, cares, or even exists?
How can Paul look at these very places and tell us to rejoice in them?
Paul is inviting us into a clouds parted moment.
He wants us to see that our true status is not built upon our comfort, but on our Creator.
He wants us to know that suffering never implies the absence of God’s love, but that God’s love is the very transformative reality upon which you stand within it.
At the graveside. On our sickbeds. In our ailments and anxieties, frustrations and fears.
He wants to defy every narrative of the world, that declare that the favoured ones are revealed through their fabulous houses, scintillating resumés, perfect teeth and shredded abs.
He has pointed to our true foundation, of standing in grace.
Not to view every discomfort that comes our way as proof of my idiocy or unlovability.
But, that, even in this place of pain, we stand in grace.
In this place—where utter pain and being utterly loved converge— we are becoming people of resilient endurance.
An endurance that carves into our hearts character.
And character that overflows in untouchable hope. Not the flimsy hope of fleeting material comfort or snatched moments of success. But hope with substance and roots, grounded in the unchanging reality of the unflinching devotion of our God.
It is a hope that stands in the darkest clouds, with fire in our eyes and burning in our hearts, knowing that beyond the clouds is a view is more spectacular than we can imagine.
The clouds have parted. And Paul invites us to remember this:
In our frailty and fears, tears and turbulence,
You, child of God, stand, firmly planted in grace.
And the Father, who loves you with love overwhelming,
Calls you to lift your eyes, weary pilgrim.
Beyond the clouds of despair,
He is relentlessly creating a new atmosphere in your very soul,
Of resilient, enduring, and breathtakingly joyful
Hope.
Reflect:
What places of turmoil, pain, and struggle are you carrying into today.
Meditate on this: you stand on the unchanging, unflinching, love of the Father. You stand in grace.
And from this place, consider how the Father may be renewing you in endurance, proving your character, and building you as a person of hope.
Pray:
Father,
When it hurts,
I want to ask you to stop the hurting.
I do this today, for I know you as the God of miracles and transformation,
Who heals the sick and restores the broken-hearted,
Who provides our every need,
And delivers us from evil.
I ask you for this today.
But, Father, I also ask the more dangerous prayer,
That in your goodness,
You would build in me a soul of resilience and endurance,
Of unflinching character
And defiant hope,
Not allowing this suffering to crush my soul,
But rather, within my very places of limitation and pain,
To find your renewal
Into hope unshakeable,
And hope beautiful.
So may this miracle be,
In the power, and person, and Name of my Lord Jesus
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Numbers 1-2 | Proverbs 8:22-36
2 Peter 3:16