Blessings for Those Who Feel Unworthy
Jenn, a friend of mine in our community, died of cancer not too long ago. One of Jenn’s best friends, Steph, shared with me how she held space with Jenn in the last couple of months of her life. Steph sat with her and read Scripture with her, and when Jenn grew too weak to read the words herself, Steph read to her while she rested. Steph described those days as holy, beautiful, and sweet. There, in the fullness of time, Jenn and Steph were achingly close to the Lord, swallowed in the tenderness of God’s embrace.
Steph couldn’t understand why God would choose her, of all people, to be able to sit with Jenn and receive that blessing. Why me? she seemed to be asking.
“Because you are beloved by God,” I blurted out. It was as if the Holy Spirit couldn’t wait to butt into our conversation and tell my friend, “Because I love you, and I have good gifts for you. I want to bless you. Why not you?”
That is how I take the Beatitudes. The Beatitudes are God’s promise of blessing, for you and you and you, because you are God’s beloved.
The Beatitudes are the first sayings of Jesus at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount. They are promises of happiness to those who might otherwise think they are undeserving of any such happiness. These blessings are poured out on the people the world might otherwise think are cursed—the brokenhearted, the humble, the ones who long for the goodness of God, the ones who look out for others. The weak ones. The meek ones. The ones who seek peace.
Sometimes, I feel guilty for God’s blessing, the same way Steph seemed to feel undeserving of that sweet time with Jenn. I even flinch and hesitate to use the term “blessed,” because so often what we mean by blessed is fortunate, lucky, or privileged. But these are not blessings of good fortune, financial resources, power, or fame. Jesus says “blessed”—or “happy”—are the poor in Spirit, the humble, the brokenhearted. These aren’t generally considered states of happiness.
But some of the most blessed times of my life have been in the midst of deep sorrow. When we suffered through four miscarriages. When my newborn was in the NICU. When my mom was diagnosed with cancer. When chronic illness changed the course of my professional and personal life. These and other moments of strife are filled with an overwhelming sense of God’s love and presence. I might not have seen it or felt it in the moment, but I can see it and feel it now, a solid, steadfast embrace I know never left me and will never let me go.
In the midst of the hardships, suffering, pain, and brokenness of now, these blessings are the experience of the promised wholeness of God’s kingdom as it should be. Each paradoxical gift of mourning and humility and so on listed in the Beatitudes is a pathway to the felt presence of God in our lives.
As we hand over more of our lives to the Lord and rest in that great presence of God’s love, the more full and complete our joy is, the happiness and blessing God promises in the Beatitudes. Jesus points to it again in some of his final words with His disciples (John 15:9-12). Abiding in God’s love results in the experience of God’s complete joy.
On the other side of each of these temporary sufferings is hope that does not disappoint. Jesus himself models this in his own suffering, death, and resurrection. On the other side of suffering is the fullness of life with God. As the goodness and love of the Lord is made more evident to us, what can stand against us? Nothing. Nothing can stand between us and the love that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:35-39).
We are God’s beloved. In the midst of all this brokenness, God seeks to bless us with love. In the midst of all this hurting, God seeks to bless us with comfort. In the midst of all this injustice, God seeks to bless us with a glimpse of His mercy and righteousness. Our current reality, the nowness of our suffering, is superseded by the eternity of God’s love. This is how our mourning is turned to dancing (Psalm 30:11). This is how our sorrow is turned to joy (John 16:20).
Oh, beloved. Let Jesus’ love speak into your hurting. Let Jesus’ blessings rain on your dry bones. The Lord wants to bless you, even and especially in these moments of sorrow, grief, and pain. God wants to carry you through your fear and anxiety if you’ll just surrender them over. You are a child of God, and God wants to give you these good gifts. God wants to meet you, like a good father, in your exhaustion, your suffering, and your pain, and hold you until the tension releases. Rest in the love of Christ your God. He will bless you, now and in the kingdom to come.
–Written by Sarah Wells. Used by permission from the author.
