When my Dad was rushed into hospital for sudden hemorrhaging in 1998, my whole world began to fall apart.
By the time I reached the ward after a rushed 300km drive, Dad had slipped into coma. The prognosis was not hopeful. Our life as a family came to an abrupt pause as we waited in a space of the unknown.
Though Dad miraculously regained consciousness 21 days later, it was the beginning of a long, slow and painful dying. Witnessing his suffering as we cared for him was heart-wrenching. My attempts to find cures to heal him only resulted in one futility after another. We lost him six months later in 1999.
My grief was inconsolable.
Life was never the same again. My grief was inconsolable, stretching from months into over a year.
At about the same time, my career came to a halt. I had invested so much of myself into my work; I loved what I did and thrived at it. However, the environment was thick with politics. I had tried to stay neutral and get the job done well, but that stance found me out of favor with those in power. With no career prospects, I resigned in early 2000 with no idea of what to do next.
My career dreams were shattered, and I felt disillusioned.
Amidst all this, I was preparing for my wedding. A seven-year relationship had led to a much-awaited engagement. Dates were set, the hotel was booked and my gown was custom-made. Then, a month before our civil registration, everything fell apart.
My life was razed to the ground into smouldering ashes.
It was a third blow that left me completely blindsided. My life was razed to the ground into smouldering ashes.
A glimmer of hope
It was in this time of great loss that my search for God was reignited.
I was a wide-eyed five-year-old in kindergarten when I first heard stories from the Bible. Having grown up with stories of the gods of another religion, I knew this Jesus was different—he was ordinary, yet extraordinary.
Jesus’ love drew me to him. So, I decided to give my heart to him. I kept my decision secret; it was just between him and me.
On leaving kindergarten, Christ remained close to my heart. However, during my teens, I began to question if he was the one true God. Eventually, I drifted away. From then until my early adult years, I was in control and directed my own course.
How do I find my way back to being happy again?
In the wake of my father’s death, questions whirled in my mind. If I have no control over my life, how can I feel secure? If there is no security, how can there be peace? How do I find my way back to being happy again?
Hoping to find answers, I joined my family on a pilgrimage to India in 2000. We visited many religious places, but my grief did not lighten. "Was this yet another effort in futility", I wondered.
One evening, my mother requested an unscheduled stop at a Christian retreat center. There, the Pastor’s wife invited me to take a walk. When we reached a chapel, she asked to pray for me. As she prayed, she mentioned incidents in my life that no one knew. Who could possibly know these events, but the God who sees all?
After praying, she quoted Isaiah 43:18-19: “Forget what happened before, and do not think about the past. Look at the new thing I am going to do!” (NCV). She then quoted the words in Ephesians 4:22-24, “Put off the old self... put on the new self.”
Once those words were spoken, I felt my grief lift. I could breathe easy again. I had been drowning for a long season, and finally, someone had pulled me to shore.
On our walk back, I saw a life-size sculpture of Jesus engraved with the words from Matthew 11:28: “Come to me you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”
Jesus was the answer.
Jesus was the answer. Underpinning all my questions on security, peace, and happiness, what I truly sought for was rest.
The path to growth
I spent the rest of that trip soaking in God’s truth. In every city we toured, I visited church bookstores and bought books that would help me rediscover Christ.
I realized the depth of God’s love in gifting his son Jesus to suffer and die for my sins. I marveled at how God the Father must have felt as he watched his son dying on the cross. He knew the pain of searing loss. At that moment, my anger towards him for allowing my father to suffer extinguished.
I made a deliberate choice to return to Jesus.
I made a deliberate choice to return to Jesus. A few months later, I found a job. At my new workplace, a colleague brought me to church where I continued to grow in my walk with Jesus. In January 2005, I left my country to serve full-time in missions.
For two years, all went well, but then I was denied visa to stay on due to a sudden change in immigration laws. I returned homeless, jobless, and almost penniless.
Then, my health began failing. I lived with excruciating pain and severe hemorrhaging. Eventually, I became bedridden. It took seven years for doctors to diagnose advanced-stage endometriosis and adenomyosis. Not long after, I was found to also have cancer.
In the 20 years since I answered the call to missions, my life has found me in deep valleys season after season. Death has ravaged every area: Health, career, ministry, relationships, and finances.
I used to think that progress and achievements were signs of God’s favor. But I have come to understand that severe testing purges superficial beliefs.
In my early years as Christ’s follower and for years after, I struggled to understand Romans 5:3-4, “We also have joy with our troubles, because we know that these troubles produce patience. And patience produces character, and character produces hope.”
How can suffering be a cause for gladness? Why are hardships necessary to produce patience and character? How do difficulties increase our trust in God?
I discovered that these verses can only be truly learnt and understood through personal experience.
It was in the valleys that I began to encounter God’s love and care in a deep and personal way. It was in my troubles that I experienced God’s intimate presence and savored his lavish goodness.
I tasted a joy that is dependent not on circumstances, but on my relationship with Christ.
There, in my pain and suffering, I tasted a joy that is dependent not on circumstances, but on my relationship with Christ. I learned to wait patiently for him, resting in the knowledge that my destiny is sure and grand.
As I entrusted myself to Christ, the Holy Spirit continuously filled me with God’s love and assured me of God’s promises. A surge of hope rose within me.
I once asked: “When a forceful volcano erupts upon us and burns all to ashes, can life begin anew?” Today, I can say with a resounding yes! Though our situation may appear dismal, we worship a God who cannot be contained nor confounded. He is without equal, and his good plan will never be thwarted. By his grace, God can use our adversity for his glory and our good.
When God Doesn’t Heal, How is this Love? is available now at Amazon.
Article originally published by Salt & Light (Singapore). Republished with permission.
Meera Davina Mahadevan's childhood years were enriched by growing up in a multilingual, multicultural society in Southeast Asia. After over a decade in marketing and management consultancy industries, she trained as an accredited Life and Executive Coach before shifting to frontier missions. She has been engaged with missions organizations with work spanning from Europe, East Africa, South Asia, South East Asia to South Pacific. Meera currently serves on the International Board of Alongsiders, is a trained Spiritual Director and a spiritual companion to mission workers. Meera is the author of "When God Doesn't Heal: How Is This Love?"
