Growing Stronger

 Stronger or more bitter?

    “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”*

    I hate that saying.

    Why? Don’t I know that God is working for our good in all things (Romans 8:28)? Our highest good is to become more like Him. Therefore, in all things, including those that hurt but don’t kill us, God will make us stronger, won’t He?

    But is it automatic? I suffer, therefore I grow? Not from what I’ve seen. God is always working for our good, but we often have to work with Him, in an attitude of humility and submission, in order to heal and produce fruit.

    A Christian man I used to know dreamed as a child of one day becoming a doctor. He did all he could to make that dream come true. He demonstrated innate curiosity about things both natural and mechanical. He maintained high grades throughout his years of schooling. He became involved in extracurricular activities, including volunteering in the local emergency room on Friday and Saturday nights. He developed interpersonal skills that would contribute to a good bedside manner. If he had been born ten years earlier, he probably would have been accepted into medical school and gone on to a successful career as a physician.

    But he completed his bachelor’s degree in the late 1970s. At that time, there was a growing attempt to get more women and minorities into medicine. Highly-qualified white males, including my friend, were being passed over in favor of less-qualified females and people of color. My friend’s applications to various med schools were denied. He switched tracks and became an engineer instead. It wasn’t his first choice, but he accepted it and served well in his back-up field. What didn’t kill him made him stronger.

    I met another Christian man about fifteen years ago. Same dream, same focus on the goal, same failure to be accepted into med school. Different result. This guy was angry and resentful over being passed up for a career that he knew he deserved. He found another path, but pursued it grudgingly, meeting only the minimal requirements and continuing to complain to those closest to him about his unfair treatment so many years before. What didn’t kill him made him bitter.

Stronger or more vulnerable?

    A different friend went through a difficult time as an unwanted child. Finding Christ freed her of many false beliefs about her value and her ability to be loved. As a Christian, with God’s grace and power and wisdom, she worked through her damaged emotions and self-image. What didn’t kill her eventually made her stronger.

    A second woman that I knew many years ago had also had a traumatic childhood in an unstable home. She became a Christian and experienced the peace and joy and love of Christ. But she bought into the evangelically-correct idea that she wasn’t broken inside anymore. That was the past. It was over. God had instantaneously, completely healed her when she believed.

    She was the secretary to an assistant pastor at my church. That pastor left. A new one was hired. When he interviewed for the position, his previous employers failed to reveal his history of sexual misconduct. He immediately recognized the weakness of his new secretary. He preyed on her. He manipulated her. He destroyed her marriage by initiating an affair with her. What didn’t kill her made her vulnerable.

    I’ve seen too many broken Christians who never really heal. Like the second man who was denied access to med school and the secretary who had the affair with her boss. With inadequate treatment, the wounds fester. What doesn’t kill them continues to eat away at them, regardless of the facade of health and strength that they wear for others to see.

Our current opportunity

    What will the outcome of the coronavirus pandemic be for believers in America? Will we follow in the footsteps of the first people mentioned in each of my pairs of examples and be strengthened? Will we accept God’s detours in our lives and allow Him to grow us, or will we become bitter? Will we work through the pain in order to find healing, or will we put on a happy face through it all, then fall prey to those who know how to exploit us?

    And what about our attitude to Christians who are struggling with the fallout from COVID-19? Will we allow them, and even encourage them, to take whatever time they need to work through their pain and doubts? Will we be there for them, to walk alongside them in the process? Or will we shame them if we don’t see a quick fix occurring?

True strength

    Maybe we need to change this faulty assumption about growing stronger to some searching questions, asked with the compassion that desires healing for the sufferer. How might God use this non-fatal experience to make you stronger? Can you see anything that He’s trying to teach you through it? What small steps can you begin taking right now? What could you work on changing in your attitude or behavior in order to gain the strength that’s available to you? Who can help you as you try to move forward? A wise and trusted friend? A patient pastor? A professional counselor?

    Ultimately, our strength comes from God. Only He can heal our brokenness and bind up our wounds. But we have a responsibility, too—to be honest with Him and with others, to face our hurts and anger and shortcomings head-on, to be open to His guidance in pursuing healing, to learn to be thankful rather than resentful when He prunes our damaged branches. As we do our part, in His love and patience and grace He will bring growth. What doesn’t kill us will make us stronger. But it isn’t automatic, as that saying that I hate so much implies.


*Adapted from Friedrich Nietzsche. What he actually wrote was, “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger” (italics added). Was he speaking only for himself, or did he believe that this principle applied to everyone, as our current version suggests?