On Being a Realistic Optimist

“Man, my life is the pits.” Not an uncommon metaphor expressed nowadays by many people faced with an unending series of failures and problems. However, for Daniel, Jeremiah and Joseph this expression was not a metaphor—they were thrown into an actual pit.

Jeremiah’s story begins with a call from God that included this assurance “Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you”(Jeremiah 1:8), and Jeremiah had that assurance to encourage him when government officials threw him into a cistern.

When Daniel emerged from the den of lions where he had been thrown because of his unyielding faith in God he said: “ “My God sent his angel, and he shut the mouths of the lions” (Daniel 6:22), and scripture records “...when Daniel was lifted from the den, no wound was found on him, because he had trusted in his God” (Daniel 6:23).

Joseph’s pit experience was different from that of Daniel and Jeremiah’s. He was in the pit because of the broken relationship with his brothers rather than for his faith in God. But, that pit experience was an essential step in a series of faith building experiences that resulted in Joseph’s testimony to his brothers years later that “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50:20).

How did Joseph get to this epiphany? It is thought that at some point in time after Joseph was taken out of the pit in which his brothers had put him, only to then be sold into slavery by his brothers, he made the decision that wherever he ended up, and whatever he was given to do, he would do it in a way that glorified God. God honored that dedicated service by prospering Joseph’s work, even when it was offered in the pit of an Egyptian prison (see Genesis 39: 20-23). He was in that prison for years, and for all he knew he might die there, but he believed that he was there for a purpose, and that God ordained that purpose. Perhaps he believed that spending time “in the pits” was a blessing in disguise! The rest, as they say, is history, and not just Israel’s history, it is our spiritual history as well.

What we learn from each of these pit experiences is that these men did not see their being in a pit to be evidence that God had abandoned them. Rather, the pit was seen in the larger context of God’s achieving his purpose for their life. David, who was no stranger to potentially life ending experiences, put it this way:

“I cry out to God Most High,
To God, who fulfills his purpose for me.” (Psalm 57:2).

The light we see in our pit experiences is not that we will survive the pit. I don’t believe Joseph, Daniel, and Jeremiah were desperately holding on to a hope that all would be well for them after God rescued them. I think the light they saw illumined the larger perspective of God’s plan for their lives. I believe this led them to resolve, like the three Hebrews thrown into the fiery furnace, that whatever happens they would remain loyal to God and trust Him to make it possible for them to honor Him in every situation they faced.

All three had confidence that even if the outcome of the adversity they faced at that point in time marked the end of their life on this earth, the better part of their eternal life was still ahead. This was not going to be the end of their story. They held onto the firm belief that God had a plan for their lives that spanned eternity, and would come to pass if that is what they truly wanted.

I think Paul captured the essence of how they processed their experiences in the pit as he reflected on his own “pit” experiences and had this to say:

5-6 Remember, our Message is not about ourselves; we’re proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master. All we are is messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you. It started when God said, “Light up the darkness!” and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful.

7-12 If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us. As it is, there’s not much chance of that. You know for yourselves that we’re not much to look at. We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we’re not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken. What they did to Jesus, they do to us—trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us—he lives! Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus’ sake, which makes Jesus’ life all the more evident in us. While we’re going through the worst, you’re getting in on the best!

13-15 We’re not keeping this quiet, not on your life. Just like the psalmist who wrote, “I believed it, so I said it,” we say what we believe. And what we believe is that the One who raised up the Master Jesus will just as certainly raise us up with you, alive. Every detail works to your advantage and to God’s glory: more and more grace, more and more people, more and more praise!

16-18 So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new

life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.(2 Corinthians 4:5-18, The Message)

This is a radically different way of looking at the dark pit we are in, because we are keeping our eyes on the light from above instead of the darkness that surrounds us. As Paul said: “Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.” We’re not focused on the better days that lie ahead for us on this earth once we get out of the pit; we’re concentrating on the very best days that lie ahead for all of us when the temporary finally gives way to the permanent, when the immanent is replaced with the transcendent in our heavenly home.

I refer to myself as a realistic optimist—one who doesn’t deny the reality of the current situation, but who chooses to believe that God can and will bring good out of even the most dire circumstances:

“We are confident that God is able to orchestrate everything to work toward something good and beautiful when we love Him and accept His invitation to live according to His plan. (Romans 8:28 The Voice)

Focusing on God’s goodness allows us to levitate above our problems by drilling down into His Word which reveals His plan for our lives. The deeper I go into an understanding of His love for me, the more I self-identify with my immortal destiny instead of my mortal condition of being a cancer patient. I am a child of the King, whose inheritance is sure and absolute, not the victim of an evil and always fatal disease.

I now often say that I don’t believe in bad news—bad news is just good news before its conversion experience. This is because I share Paul’s conviction expressed in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 that we should “give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” A realistic optimist understands that in every circumstance there is reason to be grateful, even if you aren’t able to see it at the time. Realistically, it is what it is. You just have to believe that “what it is” may be different, and better, than what it appears to be at that moment in time. We don’t know the end from the beginning, but God does, and He holds us in the palm of His hand. As the song says:

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;
Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

What does it mean to be “free”? It could mean any number of things, but to me it means I can sing because when I am a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17) I am free from enslavement to sin, free from anxiety about an uncertain future, free from the soul corroding power of cynicism, and free from ingratitude by failing to acknowledge His watchful care over me.

My optimism isn’t a hope that a cure will be found for my sarcoma during my lifetime, or that, despite the odds, I will live out my natural life. If that were to happen it would provide one more reason for me to be grateful and rejoice, but my hope does not depend on that happening. Rather, it is that God will “fulfill his purpose for me”, and that “our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all,” (2 Corinthians 4:17).

Knowing that God will fulfill his purpose for my life provides the calm assurance and sense of peace that can come only from a divine source, and that assurance and peace doesn’t depend on always getting good news (i.e., on my getting out of the “pit” I’m in at that moment).

With God in control we have every reason to remain optimistic about our future. God can and will make all things new. We have the assurance that “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy” (Psalm 126:5). Cynicism says “what should be, will never be,” while optimism says “what should be, will forever be.” I choose optimism.

I leave you with Bonar’s poem, “Marah and Elim,” to provide an answer to our question: “Is optimism sometimes unreasonable in the face of adversity?”

Always Rejoicing (and with good reason!),
Bruce

 

Marah and Elim
by Horatius Bonar

Today 'tis Elim with its palms and wells,
And happy shade for desert weariness;
'Twas Marah yesterday, all rock and sand,
Unshaded solitude and dreariness.
Yet the same desert holds them both, the same
Hot breezes wander o'er the lonely ground;
The same low stretch of valley shelters both,
And the same mountains compass them around.

So it is here with us on earth, and so
I do remember it has ever been;
The bitter and the sweet, the grief and joy,
Lie near together, but a day between.

Sometimes God turns our bitter into sweet,
Sometimes He gives us pleasant watersprings;
Sometimes He shades us with His pillar cloud,
And sometimes to a blessed palm shade brings.

What matters it? The time will not be long;
Marah and Elim will alike be passed;
Our desert wells and palms will soon be done,
We reach the “City of our God” at last.
O happy land! beyond these lonely hills,
Where gush in joy the everlasting springs;
O holy Paradise! above these heavens,
Where we shall end our desert wanderings.