“Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, I also send you.”22 After saying this, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
John 20:21-23 (19-23)
This is the second “peace be with you” in this passage. So why the duplication of this peace proclamation? The disciples are sequestered and scared in the upper room (v. 19; and Luke 24:36. Having peace is being emphasized–the disciples were afraid of the Pharisees, but they also were undone by Jesus’ surprise visit.
Peace was definitely a precious commodity for them.
Jesus gives his disciples a mission to do, and they must be as ‘familiar’ with Jesus just as Jesus is with God. The disciples had followed him for three years–seeing incredible miracles, and hearing profound teaching, they’re ready, they just need power.
In track and field, there’s a relay race where a baton is passed from runner to runner, and maybe that’s how it’s working here? We see the same idea in John 17:18.
The baton has now been passed to the disciples.
The breath of the risen Jesus is necessary (and yes, he’s breathing.) What went down here, I don’t know exactly. But Jesus recognizes that his 12 followers will need this to do his work. Also, we might consider Adam in Genesis 2:7 where God’s breath brought him to life, which is pretty awesome when you think of the parallels.
The Holy Spirit energizes these men to do this new work.
The disciples were pretty much observers, but now they are to take up the ‘mantle’ of Jesus’ work. This is a definite duplication, which connects with the idea of one seed producing many others (John 12:24.) That’s how the Kingdom will come to people.
Verse 23 intrigues me. It seems that our life comes from the breath of Jesus. And it’s the Holy Spirit that gives both power and the authority that’s needed to function like Jesus. We now have the ability to pronounce forgiveness to the new believer, and yet that doesn’t seem a function of the Church today.
I wonder why this is so?
This entire passage as a doozy. It clearly declares the Churches new role as we follow in his footsteps. Disciples are to do exactly what Jesus does–with his breath and authority–filled with the Holy Spirit.
If we neglect these things (it seems anyway) we’re going to fall flat on our face.
“The work of Jesus for His disciples on resurrection Sunday gives an ongoing pattern for His work among His people. Jesus wants to continue this fourfold ministry of assurance, mission, the Holy Spirit and authority to His people today.”
And the people spoke against God and against Moses, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food.”
6 Then the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many people of Israel died. 7 And the people came to Moses and said, “We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord and against you. Pray to the Lord, that he take away the serpents from us.” So Moses prayed for the people.
8 And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live.” 9 So Moses made a bronze serpent and set it on a pole.
Then anyone who was bitten by a snake could look at the bronze snake and be healed!
Numbers 21:6-9, ESV
The children of Israel were under attack by thousands of snakes. I remember hearing of Jonestown, where on November 18, 1978 when 918 people drank ‘kool-aid’ mixed with cyanide. The whole thing was based on Jim Jones‘ delusion and rampant paranoia.
Death like this is never easy to deal with. It’s frightening. It boggles our mind.
It’s hear we read of poisonous snakes attacking people in the camp of Israel. The people had taken umbrage with God and Moses because the way was too hard. They accused God of leading them out of Egypt, just so He could whole-scale destroy them.
I venture to say that the effects of sin have a terrible tendency (and a purpose) to kill people. Its infection will work through our “blood stream” and be a certain poison that will eventually destroy us.
If we could actually see the snakes we might just take our sin a bit more seriously.
But our particular viperous horde comes to us on a spiritual level. We aren’t suddenly falling down, and our sin doesn’t bring us immediate death. (A slow death, which is, maybe harder.) We see it sometimes, but we can’t do anything about it.
Like it or not, there is a savage battle going on in our hearts and minds.
The cross of Jesus is the only antidote, and through faith the poison is being rendered inert. But personally I must admit, there are good days, and not-so-good ones. I know it’s the poison that works inside of me. Others may see it sometimes, but it’s pretty obvious to me.
“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
John 3:14-15, ESV
I read the following story somewhere, and it seems to explain exactly what i want to say. I think it is more than a cute story. If we should take the time and unzip it, the truth will spill out.
“A fight is going on inside me,” said an old man to his son. “It is a terrible fight between two wolves. One wolf is evil. He is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other wolf is good. he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you.”
The son thought about it for a minute and then asked, “Which wolf will win?”The old man replied simply, “The one you feed.”
Look to Jesus, who was lifted up to destroy our sin, and heal our lives. Fix your eyes on Him, and He will save.
Elijah was suicidal. Job wished he had never been born. David understood deep depression. Moses was anxious. Hannah was barren. Jonah was angry. Paul was all alone in a prison cell.
And actually, this is only a brief list. The Bible is loaded with flawed people who stumbled trying to be faithful. God uses imperfect people, because there really isn’t any other kind to be found.
Noah got spectacularly drunk. Abraham lied. Jacob repeatedly deceived others. Rahab was a whore. Samson lusted. David committed adultery and was a murderer. Peter denied Christ.
And there were others.
Why does God favor and love people who are so disturbed? Honestly, none of us measure up. It seems He uses the weak to carry out a plan and a purpose of redeeming others, and establishing a Kingdom. He takes messes and gives them His message.
He is Love– 100% of the time, and He loves you, and He loves me, He loves the world. (John 3:16.)
Messed up people of faith become instruments and vessels of grace to other messed up people. We carry a treasure that is not ours. Sometimes it takes years to see this. I hope you can.
And nothing is ever really wasted. Our mistakes (sins) become useful things to Him. For example, David’s sin would be transformed into Psalm 51 and 32. Yes, his disobedience had consequences, I won’t dispute that, but something wonderful also came when he repented.
Yes, you need to repent. But when sin is destroying you, it does seem logical.
The first two verses of Psalm 51 can bring tears when we finally understand their profound beauty, for they came out of David’s darkness:
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!
Psalm 53:1-2, ESV
For thousands of years people of real faith have come and drawn beauty and grace from this song. David knew his sin was real, and incredible pain emerged from that, but the Psalm did also.
Please do not try to hide or excuse your sin, it always has the most awful consequences.
Broken people can be forgiven, redeemed and used. Sometimes I think God gets special enjoyment out of picking the worst and patiently loving us to wholeness. If you really know Him, and know your flaws, you’re well on your way of usefulness in His kingdom.
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”
How you handle these fragile moments is key to the remainder of your life. It’s ok to feel abandoned or alone. It’s ok to be depressed.
But let God know about where you’re at. I’m convinced He really wants to teach you to walk in the truth. And dear one, nothing will be as challenging as that.
I really hope that these thoughts might help. There is no question that we’ll face challenges and difficulties. Just maybe this post will strengthen your walk? I chose each thought purposefully and every one contains something helpful (I hope).
These quotes should speak wisdom as we try to understand what’s happening to us.
Quotes to Guide You Through Your Trial:
A.W. Tozer
“It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He’s hurt him deeply.” (Roots of Righteousness, Chapter 39)
Calvin Miller
“Hurt is the essential ingredient of ultimate Christ-likeness.” (Quoted in Christianity Today, July 2007, p41)
Larry Crabb
“Brokenness isn’t so much about how bad you’ve been hurt but how you’ve sinned in handling it.” (Christianity Today, A Shrink Gets Stretched, May 1, 2003)
“Shattered dreams are never random. They are always a piece of a piece in a larger story. The Holy Spirit uses the pain of shattered dreams to help us discover our desire for God, to help us begin dreaming the highest dream. They are ordained opportunities for the Spirit to first awaken, then to satisfy our highest dream.” (Shattered Dreams, 2001)
Alan Redpath
“When God wants to do an impossible task, he takes an impossible person and crushes him.” (Quoted by Gary Preston, Character Forged from Conflict: Staying Connected to God During Controversy. The pastor’s soul series, (Minneapolis, MN: Bethany House, 1999)
Bruce Wilkinson
“Are you praying for God’s superabundant blessings and pleading that He will make you more like His Son? If so, then you are asking for the shears.” (Secrets of the Vine, 60.)
Charles Swindoll
“Someone put it this way, ‘Whoever desires to walk with God, walks right into the crucible.’ All who choose godliness live in a crucible. The tests will come.” (Moses, Great Lives from God’s Word, 285.)
“Being stripped of all substitutes is the most painful experience on earth.” (David, p70)
Elisabeth Elliot
“The surrender of our heart’s deepest longing is perhaps as close as we come to an understanding of the cross… our own experience of crucifixion, though immeasurably less than our Saviour’s nonetheless furnishes us with a chance to begin to know Him in the fellowship of His suffering. In every form of our own suffering, He calls us into that fellowship.” (Elisabeth Elliot, Quest For Love, (Grand Rapids, MI: Fleming H. Revell, 1996), 182.)
George MacDonald
“No words can express how much our world ‘owes’ to sorrow. Most of the Psalms were conceived in a wilderness. Most of the New Testament was written in a prison. The greatest words of God’s Scriptures have all passed through great trials. The greatest prophets have “learned in suffering what they wrote in their books.” So take comfort afflicted Christian! When our God is about to make use of a person, He allows them to go through a crucible of fire.”
Helen Keller
“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” (Quoted in Leadership, Vol. 17, no. 4.)
Oswald Chambers
“God can never make us wine if we object to the fingers He uses to crush us with. If God would only use His own fingers, and make me broken bread and poured-out wine in a special way! But when He uses someone whom we dislike, or some set of circumstances to which we said we would never submit, and makes those the crushers, we object. We must never choose the scene of our own martyrdom. If ever we are going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed; you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.” (Chambers, O. (1993, c1935). My utmost for his highest : Selections for the year (September 30). Grand Rapids, MI: Discovery House Publishers.)
“No-one enters into the experience of entire sanctification without going through a ‘white funeral’ — the burial of the old life. If there has never been this crisis of death, sanctification is nothing more than a vision… Have you come to your last days really? You have come to them often in sentiment, but have you come to them really?… We skirt around the cemetery and all the time refuse to go to death… Have you had your ‘white funeral’, or are you sacredly playing the fool with your soul? Is there a place in your life marked as the last day, a place to which the memory goes back with a chastened and extraordinary grateful remembrance–’yes, it was then, at that ‘white funeral’ that I made an agreement with God.” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, January 15, (Uhrichsville, OH: Barbour and Company, Inc., 1963).)
“Jesus Christ had no tenderness whatsoever toward anything that was ultimately going to ruin a person in his service to God…. If the Spirit of God brings to your mind a word of the Lord that hurts you, you can be sure that there is something in you that He wants to hurt to the point of its death.” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, September 27, (Uhrichsville, OH: Barbour and Company, Inc., 1963.)
Charles Stanley
Does God purposefully allow suffering? “The comfortable, but theologically incorrect, answer is no. You will find many people preaching and teaching that God never sends an ill wind into a person’s life, but that position can’t be justified by Scripture. The Bible teaches that God does send adversity – but within certain parameters and always for a reason that relates to our growth, perfection, and eternal good.” (*Stanley, C. F. 1997, c1996. Advancing through adversity (electronic ed.). Thomas Nelson: Nashville, TN.)
“A man was lying there who had been sick for thirty-eight years.”
John 5:5
That’s an incredibly long time to be sick. It must be difficult to be an invalid year after year, with no real hope of ever being healed. This passage describes the scene, (see John 5:1-15). Apparently there was a large group of invalids waiting for the stirring of the waters. That misplaced hope was all they had.
I’ve often wondered why Jesus didn’t heal them all. Why just one when there were so many?
Perhaps the issue was their spiritual state. Most were focused on the pool, they felt that this was their only hope. They could see nothing else. So many today are distracted, we look at those things that might save us instead of looking at Jesus.
Perhaps Jesus would return to the Pool of Bethesda on another day. We’re not told but we know Jesus did quite a few miracles that aren’t recorded. (John 21:25.)
It was the Sabbath, and the healing violated the religious rules of the Pharisees. Jesus refused this man-made edict, and did the will of God. This decision meant healing this paralyzed man.
God doesn’t make mistakes in dealing with His own children.
Our Father does His will, and as believers we must trust in Him and what He promises. By faith, we however believe in His goodness and love. We reject the lies the evil one tells us about our spiritual Father.
My confidence is that He knows in which school I will learn the best lessons
He knows what experiences are necessary for me to grow up. Knowing this doesn’t make it easier, but it does make it eternal. There’s a graduation day coming soon.
We have no power in ourselves to do Christ’s will, but if we do begin to obey what He asks the needed grace is given. Young people often say that they are afraid to enter into a Christian life because they can not do what will be required. In their own strength, they cannot. Plain and simple.
Human strength in itself is basically inadequate for what life throws at us.
I’m convinced that sick-rooms should be seen as holy places, especially set apart for believers who are becoming more like Jesus everyday. It’s hard, but we remember that God has summoned us there for some special work upon our souls. We must be very careful here or we will miss the good He wants us to receive.
It’s really only those who are trusting Christ and crying out for grace that become blessed by their sickness. I hate to say it but as a believer I’ve found pain to be the best teacher I ever had. I’ve also wasted these opportunities.
But even in that hard place, look for His lessons.
“Too many invalids grow discontented, unhappy, sour, and fretful. Sickness oftentimes fails to do good to those who suffer. There are few experiences in which we so much need to be watchful over ourselves and prayerful toward God.
Be sure to keep the sickness out of your heart, and keep Christ there with His love and peace.”
“While Jesus’ disciples were talking about what had happened, Jesus appeared and greeted them. They were frightened and terrified because they thought they were seeing a ghost.
“But Jesus said, “Why are you so frightened?”
Why do you doubt? 39 Look at my hands and my feet and see who I am! Touch me and find out for yourselves. Ghosts don’t have flesh and bones as you see I have.”
After Jesus said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. The disciples were so glad and amazed that they could not believe it. Jesus then asked them, “Do you have something to eat?”
“They gave him a piece of baked fish. He took it and ate it as they watched.”
Luke 24:36-43
Sometimes in a story, you get a vivid sense of what really happening. Luke’s account ignites that in me. With the flair of the dramatic– Jesus, freshly resurrected from the dead, bursts into the room and he scares the bejeezus out of everyone.
I guess it was one of those times when you just had to be there in order to really get it.
“Frightened” and “terrified”–it takes two words to describe this spooky experience.
Not only that, but they got real freaky, after all, He had to be a ghost! I can only imagine their fear at that moment. I think everyone present bolted to the door. But wait for a second! “The door is still locked?! OMG, what has just happened?”
We see Jesus[I think he was lovingly amused] point out that he was still a human being–look at me! Think for a second, have you ever tried to get a pet dog, who is so scared he’s peeing on the floor, to come to you? I see the disciples kind of half crawling, stooped, and very unsure about this.
They slowly encircle Jesus and as they come, I have to believe He’s laughing. He has returned from the dead. And they have no idea!
He is laughing from the pure joy of one who has endured the worst of a very real hell.
Jesus has come out on the other side, intact. I believe Jesus is reveling at the moment, and he is among friends whom he loves and vice versa. He is alive, he has done the impossible, and I can only imagine everyone is laughing and crying at the same time!
I believe each of us has walls.
Yes, you and I. Walls. These borders give us security and protection. We feel we have to have them, or else. The disciples feel like there’s security in numbers and safety in their walls that protect them. I can so relate.
But Jesus insists on penetrating our walls.
And suddenly we come ‘face-to-face’ with the dead one who’s now alive. The dead man now lives!
Look closely now, it is resurrection power–and it’s the most powerful force in the universe, more intense than the sun. It’s funny, when Moses prostrated himself before the Lord’s glory, he changed. Not only that, but he had to take precautions to cover his face when he returned to camp. These disciples however have just seen the glory of God first-hand.
As broken believers, we must be prepared for any eventuality. Jesus can and will burst into our homes, and into our very lives. Can you hear him laugh?
When he comes, nothing really is the same again. He loves his disciples too much to leave them in a dark stuffy room.
The resurrected Jesus is coming for you!
**********
“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and eat with you, and you will eat with me.”
“If we are unfaithful, he remains faithful, for he cannot deny who he is.”
2 Timothy 2:13
There are often times of great despair; when sin or sickness is definitely front and center. Losing hope is an easy response for mere mortals like us. There can be a place where the darkness won’t lift; and it’s at that point you realize that you’re simply in over your head.
I know that feeling quite well.
I have depressive disorder and because of that I tend to camp out at the margins where it seems like the grace of God evaporates. Whether it is my sin or circumstances, I occasionally feel pretty much abandoned, and it usually is something self-inflicted. (Or is it? I’m not always sure.)
We have this glaring tendency to put ourselves in where we should not have been. And condemnation means no comfort can get through to us.
We wonder if God has finally given up on us, throwing us in the trash heap of lost souls. We might feel that’s what we deserve. He simply gives up on us.
“Many are saying about me, “God won’t rescue him.”
Psalm 3:2
In Psalm 3, David has come to the realization that his sins have “tainted” him. He talks of many enemies that have suddenly gathered, and they are claiming that David had now gone outside of God’s grace and favor. Forever.
The theology of this seemed logical. David had sinned greatly. And he had. David’s sin of adultery and murder was heinous and depraved. His enemies suggested that God would now abandon him. It seems logical, doesn’t it.
Our own sin may be excessive, but God’s faithfulness is to the uttermost.
”Lord, your love reaches to the heavens, your loyalty to the skies.’‘
Psalm 36:5
The grace of God is limitless. It is beyond human comprehension or reasoning. When He committed Himself it was for forever. King David understood this, and would survive the devastating fall-out from his sins. Indeed he would reap all that he sowed (Gal. 6:7-8). But God still loved him, no matter what.
You see, Jesus has taken every ounce of your sin upon Himself.
That includes your faithlessness. He has done this astonishing thing out of the deep depths of His love and mercy. We don’t deserve it and we can’t pretend it is something else. A heart that’s been welded to His knows this. We are “saved by grace through faith.”
Do you still feel God has abandoned you forever?
Dear one, there is an unholy war on the saints that Satan is waging. He hates your simple trust in God and will shake it anyway he can. He blisters believers and hopes to discourage them. And he doesn’t ever fight fair.
“The Lord appeared to us in the past,saying:“I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.”
Trigger warning: This post is about suicidal thoughts and hopelessness. If you are currently struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out to someone at one of the hotlines we have posted here.
I had all but given up. I mentally cataloged the various prescription and over-the-counter pills in my medicine cabinet. There were enough to end my hopelessness forever. I truly believed my one-and-a-half-year-old son and my long-suffering husband would be better off without me.
I saw no other way to escape this deep depression that had engulfed me for what seemed like forever. I had tried everything—academic accolades, career, marriage, counseling, antidepressants, alcohol, exercise, motherhood, even religion—but nothing pulled me from my pit of misery. Near-constant tears were destined to drown me if I didn’t kill myself first.
I credit God for stopping me from following through that day. His Word says, “The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.” Psalm 34:7. His word did not fail me when an angel stopped my hand from a dreadful mistake.
“For no word from God will ever fail.”
Luke 1:37.
When a friend learned of the depths of my despair, she invited me to a women’s Bible study. It had been a long time since I had engaged in any formal study of the Scriptures. I was nervous because I felt certain they would see me for the fraud I felt I was.
But those ladies didn’t judge me or tell me I just needed more faith. Instead, they loved me and lifted to God my simple prayer: “I just don’t want to be depressed anymore.” It took me over a month to whisper that prayer request, but it didn’t take Jesus long to answer it.
The answer came in a most unlikely way—through a dream.
I had been harboring bitterness toward a number of people who had harmed me, but the worst offender was the boy who had raped me when I was only 14. I had often said that he ruined my life. One night I dreamed I was going about my ordinary life, buying groceries, taking bills to the Post Office, and depositing a check at the bank. As I completed each errand I turned to find my attacker, down on his knees, asking me to forgive him. Each time I brushed past him, refusing to accept his apology.
I awoke from that dream with the knowledge that forgiveness would set me free. Yet I knew I could not do it alone. I sat on the edge of my bed and prayed for God’s help to forgive all those grudges I had recorded in my heart. Cleansing tears streamed down my face as I poured out my prayer to Jesus.
That very hour I felt something was different. The darkness had been lifted and the light of hope streamed in. That was over twenty years ago and although I can still be a bit melancholy, I have never again felt the deep and abiding hopelessness that tried to lure me to the medicine cabinet.
What’s Your Take on Christians Using Antidepressants?
by Pastor John Piper
I’m going to say that there are times when I think it is appropriate, but I want to go there cautiously and slowly, with warnings.
Depression is a very complex thing.
It’s got many layers. I think we all would agree that there are conditions in which nobody would deny that certain people are depressed in a pathological way because they’re immobile. They’re not even able to function.
And then there’s a continuum of discouragements and wrestlings with having an ‘Eeyore-type’ personality, which may or may not be depressed.
So that means that I want to be so careful not to have a knee-jerk reaction. When you come into my office and describe to me your discouragements, I don’t want my first response to be, “See a doctor and get a prescription.”
I fear that is way too quick today. The number of people on antidepressants as a first course rather than the last course is large.
And the assumption is that you can’t make any progress in counseling unless you get yourself stabilized or something.
So I just want to be very cautious.
As a Christian who believes that Christ is given by the Holy Spirit to deliver us from discouragements and from unbelief and sorrow and to help us live a life of usefulness, what makes me able to allow for antidepressants is the fact that medicine corresponds to physical realities.
And the physical realities are that we get headaches that make us almost unable to think. Migraine headaches can put a man out. And we are pretty much OK if the doctor can help us find some medicine that would not let us get these immobilizing headaches.
And the headaches clearly have a spiritual impact, because they’re making me unable to read my Bible and function in relation to people that I want to love and serve. And so medicine becomes spiritually effective in that way.
In the short run especially, sometimes long term—then I think, in God’s grace and mercy, we should take it as a gift from his hand.
If that physical dimension could be helped by medicine.
So we apply this principle that we all use to depression, and then the fact that the body is included in depression. Whether we should use the terms “chemical imbalances”—I’ve read both sides on that. Some people say that there is no scientific evidence for such a thing and others say that it is a given. Whatever. Everybody knows that there are physical dimensions to depression.
You really start to gather them when you’re middle-aged. I’m 63 now and am surprised (and somewhat disturbed) by my memories of things gone by. I guess this is one of the job hazards of getting old. But that’s the deal.
I guess what really bothers me the most are all the missed opportunities.
I wonder what life could have been like if I had accepted Christ at a younger age. A lot of pain would’ve been averted and perhaps I might have loved Jesus deeper than I do now. Some of us come to love Jesus late in life. There is so much time frittered away.
I regret the years spent in rebellion and disobedience. I remember the words of a 70-year-old man who had just received Christ, “Why did I wait so long for this to happen?”
“But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead,”
The solution to our regret is to focus on God’s total forgiveness. Past, Present, Future.
Paul clearly saw what lay ahead of him. Heaven was his destination, and, it’s our calling as well; it’s where we truly belong, made righteous in the loving presence of Jesus.
Peter tells us that our past sin was enough. We have wasted enough time doing evil. I don’t know about you, but I had a bellyful of sin, and it’s time for me to lay aside all my foolishness and rebellion and instead live for God. Enough is enough.
“You have had enough in the past of the evil things that godless people enjoy—their immorality and lust, their feasting and drunkenness and wild parties, and their terrible worship of idols.”
1 Peter 4:3
Thinking about my past keeps me humble and broken (which is no small thing)! But it also cements me into the joy of His marvelous amazing grace. I now know Jesus’ love.
Oh the joy I have of being forgiven!
David, that great sinner-king, understood the joy of forgiveness. He wanted us to believe in it as well:
1 Oh, what joy for those whose disobedience is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight!
2 Yes, what joy for those whose record the Lord has cleared of guilt, whose lives are lived in complete honesty!
Psalm 32:1-2
“We are to be re-made. All the rabbit in us is to disappear-and then, surprisingly, we shall find underneath it all a thing we have never yet imagined: a real Man, an ageless god, a son of God, strong, radiant, wise, beautiful, and drenched in joy.”
“The church is not a select circle of the immaculate, but a home where the outcast may come in.”
“It is not a palace with gate attendants and challenging sentinels along the entrance ways holding off at arm’s length the stranger, but rather a hospital where the brokenhearted may be healed, and where all the weary and troubled may find rest and take counsel together.”
—James H. Aughey
We live in challenging times. As people of faith, we’re slowly learning what Jesus really wants us to recognize. It seems every generation must understand all over again. Sometimes it seems we are taking two steps forward, and one step back. Oh well.
The Church must reacquaint itself with the total love of God for all people once again.
The Father hasn’t given up on us. Repeatedly, over and over, (and then over again) we learn about His unreal faithfulness to the Church and His love for all people. But sometimes we have a hard time believing these things. Honestly, we’re not what we should be, but thank God we’re not like we were. We’re learning this as well.
He’s more faithful than the most loyal person who has ever lived!
And we also must understand this. He is always seeking those who are on the margins: the lame, blind, sick and crippled. But thank God He’s still in the business of ‘collecting’ people who are desperate. (And if you can’t really see this, perhaps you should.)
The Church, and the churches we attend, are meant for those who are sick–the outcasts. It’s primarily a hospital, and the “sentinels” (pastors and elders, and others) must understand this. We must know and believe this. And we must know for ourselves the love “that passes all understanding.”
Jesus loves everyone, but if you must know, He’s specifically looking for the outcasts.
A really good study is those persons in scripture, who in their neediness, scream out “Son of God, have mercy on me.” There are 4-5 in the Gospels who said that. Although they modify this plea/prayer in slightly different ways, all of them are terribly desperate.
I encourage you to study this out, and get a deep handle on it.
Our churches mustn’t lose sight of this kind of love, and if your fellowship isn’t doing this, just maybe you’re the one called to implement it. And if this isn’t possible, you might consider moving on. (I loathe to advise this.)
But please reject ‘the country club’ version of the Church.
It isn’t right and it’s not the heart of God. It’s religion that comes to us in its gradient forms of foolishness. It doesn’t really reflect the intense seeking of God. Somehow, along the way, churches got lost in the routine efforts of a religious routine.
The challenge is not just getting seekers to renounce the pigpen like the prodigal did. Most understand and are ready to do this. But sometimes the issue is within us, the Church– we dare not become the older brother– (Luke 15:1-2 and vv. 30-32). Usually we will be one or the other.
The question facing the Church is this:
Do we want to see face lifts, or a heart transplant?
One is for looking better, the other describes an entire overhaul. One is cosmetic, the other is a matter of life and death and reaches the heart. One is relatively minor, the other is definitely not. What kind does your Church have?
Pastor A.W. Tozer seems to have gotten a hold on something here. Those who step into discipleship or ministry will inevitably be hurt in some significant way. I wouldn’t say it was a ‘given’, but it seems to be the common path we must take. We must be aware–but often we can’t or won’t understand. This is hard and we’re easily confused.
God really isn’t our problem.
He loves us and saves us and He really wants to bless us. He is all goodness and grace. He has no evil intentions concerning you, and certainly has no desire to see you suffer in a crisis of suffering or trial. Even in times of temptation, He simply views it as a step to strengthen us–He never is out to trip us up.
I really think that the issue is us.
Our old nature–the sinner inside, delights in things like pride and selfishness (even in religious matters). Some of the most difficult people I have ever had to work with were in places of oversight within the Church! May I suggest something?
Could it be that the problem isn’t that we are too weak, rather, it is because we are too strong?
God’s intention is ‘to bless greatly.’ But my pride and self-will must be left at the door (repeatedly). My old nature cannot truly work in the Kingdom. Only when these issues are dealt with (repeatedly) will humility and brokenness transform us. Quite simply, there is no way around this. God uses broken things. We must be broken as well.
“It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume.”
“It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.”
Becoming broken often takes years of trial, temptation, and affliction.
But God is patient. He’s not in any hurry.
You will ‘log-in’ many hours in the desert. Many of His best soldiers have been recruited from that barren place. The Holy Spirit is our best guide through the difficult loneliness and aridity of this place. He will guide you, and comfort you.
I sometimes teach at a local Bible college–I love Song of Solomon and choose to teach it whenever I can. Here’s a verse that has encouraged me over and over:
“Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?”
Songs 8:5, ESV
“Before God could bring me to this place He has broken me a thousand times.”
“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. 2 He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.”
3″He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord.”
Psalms 40:1-3, NLT
Psalm 40 is jam packed with great and wonderful truth. It contains freedom for the Christian– a way out for the broken believer. We do well when we use it, and that’s what it’s there for. The deep pit has been used over many centuries as the way God teaches us to sing certain songs. But that doesn’t make it easier, does it?
Verse 1
I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry.
Waiting is a critical word, it should not be regarded as trivial. In our daily walk we must be patiently seeking the Lord, that comes first. Admitting you need help is the first step. And guess what? You need help. 😁
The word ‘wait’ is special, it’s kawvah in Hebrew. It can mean ‘to bind together by twisting.‘ It can be used with the idea of braiding strands of rope together. It is never a passive act that just happens. Waiting on God is to be done with intentional purpose.
Remember that the Lord is not some distant deity on a hill far away.
He’s not hiding from you. It’s really quite the opposite.
He is closer to you than you think. He is responsive and aware. He hears your cries and wants to act; He is not deaf, but our patience is critical. Waiting on Him is crucial to being free. We must bind and twist our hearts and live our life to His desires.
Verse 2
He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.
The seeable terrain can be awful, with muddy paths and mucky pits. Things that pull you down and suck you in. They’ll trap the traveler. But the Holy Spirit is quite able to lift us out. He picks us up and secures us. He uses the rope of God’s Word.
He is way more willing to save us, than we are to being saved.
Solid ground is where we are meant to be. It’s become a place of firm standing and secure footing. He makes us steady and He keeps us safe. The Holy Spirit now has intimate care over your soul.
Verse 3-4
“He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God.
“Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord.“
Some of the greatest songs are the ones that come from those just delivered from the pit.
These are ‘pit songs,’ offered to God from sincere and true hearts that have once been trapped. There’s something solid heard from the hearts of those redeemed from disaster.
These songs no longer sound religious or contrived.
“YOU CAN SEE GOD FROM ANYWHERE IF YOUR MIND IS SET TO LOVE AND OBEY HIM.”
A.W. Tozer
From our deepest pits come our greatest praises.
There is a passionate quality that saturates these ‘pit praises’ that is highly treasured by God, and esteemed and valued by the Church– a sense of authenticity starts to be finally heard. We can finally start to see that our pits become ‘launching pads’ of true songs of deliverance.
“In any social situation, I felt fear. I would be anxious before I even left the house, and it would escalate as I got closer to a college class, a party, or whatever. I would feel sick in my stomach-it almost felt like I had the flu. My heart would pound, my palms would get sweaty, and I would get this feeling of being removed from myself and from everybody else.”
“When I would walk into a room full of people, I’d turn red and it would feel like everybody’s eyes were on me. I was embarrassed to standoff in a corner by myself, but I couldn’t think of anything to say to anybody. It was humiliating. I felt so clumsy, I couldn’t wait to get out.”
Social phobia, also called social anxiety disorder, is diagnosed when people become overwhelmingly anxious and excessively self-conscious in everyday social situations. People with social phobia have an intense, persistent, and chronic fear of being watched and judged by others and of doing things that will embarrass them. They can worry for days or weeks before a dreaded situation.
This fear may become so severe that it interferes with work, school, and other ordinary activities, and can make it hard to make and keep friends.
While many people with social phobia realize that their fears about being with people are excessive or unreasonable, they are unable to overcome them. Even if they manage to confront their fears and be around others, they are usually very anxious beforehand, are intensely uncomfortable throughout the encounter, and worry about how they were judged for hours afterward.
Social phobia can be limited to one situation (such as talking to people, eating or drinking, or writing on a blackboard in front of others) or maybe so broad (such as in generalized social phobia) that the person experiences anxiety around almost anyone other than the family.
Physical symptoms that often accompany social phobia include blushing, profuse sweating, trembling, nausea, and difficulty talking.
When these symptoms occur, people with social phobia feel as though all eyes are focused on them.
Social phobia affects about 15 million American adults.
Women and men are equally likely to develop the disorder, which usually begins in childhood or early adolescence. There is some evidence that genetic factors are involved. Social phobia is often accompanied by other anxiety disorders or depression, and substance abuse may develop if people try to self-medicate their anxiety.
The use of anti-anxiety drugs may be used and they can help you get through “bad patches” when anxiety becomes too much. It’s possible that these meds can help. Let your doctor guide you.
Understand that social anxiety can be successfully treated with certain kinds of psychotherapy or medications. You probably should find someone who understands what you’re dealing with. They need to be good listeners and have an encouraging voice.
Bringing in a pastor or elder must be considered.
Prayer and counsel are critical. Holding on to God’s promises is necessary and as you deal with this it can be God’s way of strengthening your walk. The Word is packed full of His promises. The Lord knows-He wants you to take up and understand what He wants to give you in this.
“Fear not, for I am with you;be not dismayed, for I am your God;I will strengthen you, I will help you,I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
My favorite of all the apostles is John, “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” I love his Gospel, the three epistles that he wrote, and of course, Revelation.
There are a couple of things I love about John’s writings:
He reminds his readers that he was an eyewitness to Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.
He clearly sets out the evidence for Jesus’ divinity.
He focuses, particularly in the epistles, on the love of God.
He reveals the power and purpose of the Holy Spirit in the lives of believers.
He provides believers with an assurance of salvation.
It is this last point that I want to write about today.
Early in the history of the Christian faith, deceivers had come into the church who taught that one had to achieve sinless perfection to be saved. John wrote his first epistle to combat this heresy. The same type of heresy has crept into many legalistic denominations even today. By outwardly following the rules, such people claim to be without sin. But as John writes:
If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us.
1 John 1:8-10 (NIV).
John here provides assurance that the fact that the believer sometimes sins does not negate their salvation, because Jesus is faithful and forgives our sin. One of the definitions of assurance on Dictionary.com is “full confidence; freedom from doubt; certainty.”Throughout this epistle, John provides further assurance that those who trust in Jesus can be assured of their salvation even though they are not sinless and perfect.
The word “know” appears 42 times in this short epistle.
John wants to make sure believers know that God loves them and that they can rely on His promise of salvation. In each of the chapters of the epistle, John includes his assurance:
I am writing to you, dear children, because your sins have been forgiven on account of his name. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one.
1 John 2:12-13 (NIV).
“Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from him anything we ask, because we keep his commands and do what pleases him. And this is his command: to believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and to love one another as he commanded us. The one who keeps God’s commands lives in him, and he in them. And this is how we know that he lives in us: We know it by the Spirit he gave us.”
1 John 3:21-24 (NIV).
“If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in them and they in God. And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.”
1 John 4:15-16 (NIV).
“I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life. This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.”
1 John 5:13-14 (NIV).
None of us is perfect and completely sinless. If we were, we would not need a Savior. But we do need Him, and we thrive best knowing that He is faithful in His promise of salvation for those who believe.
John does not advocate living a life in which we sin ‘willy-nilly’ simply because we know we can be forgiven.
Now don’t get me wrong. Those who truly believe in Jesus, and trust in Him for salvation, will desire to keep God’s commands. His Spirit living in our hearts will help us to overcome the temptations of the world and to love as He has commanded.
You may be struggling today with worries that you are not good enough, or that God will give up on you and you will lose your salvation. But remember – God is faithful in His promises and He has promised eternal life to all who believe in Jesus and allow His love to live in them. He has not hidden the truth from us but has made Himself known through His Son and the witness of the apostles so that we can be assured of our place in His Kingdom. Your salvation is sure.
“Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.”
Galatians 6:2, NLT
By Lisa Schubert, Guest Author
Samantha issued commands to the person on the other end of the line. When she hung up, the rant continued against our church, our staff, the weather, and this meal that would serve as her Thanksgiving dinner. I had to let her go mid-rant, but not before reminding her that I would keep her in my prayers.
Samantha approached me outside the church on Thanksgiving morning with her hair disheveled and her coat covered with dirt smudges and raindrops. She demanded to borrow my cell phone to find if the Thanksgiving dinner she had requested from a charitable organization would be ready for pick-up in an hour. I was in a hurry. I needed to be inside preparing to lead worship. I begrudgingly let her borrow my phone, but I insisted on dialing the number myself and standing with her in the gentle rain.
My encounters with Samantha have continued over the past few months. She’s almost always confused, angry, and paranoid. She tells stories about growing up with another member of our staff, who never met her until recently. It’s hard to know how to respond to Samantha.
A friend called me recently to ask if our church had any resources for helping congregations to welcome those who struggle with mental illness. I pointed her in a few directions, including the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) at www.nami.org. Even as I offered her the information, I felt uneasy. Connecting with those who have mental illnesses is a complex, difficult journey.
It was raining again on Monday when I saw Samantha. She was sitting in the front lobby of the church. She shouted at me as I walked out the door, “Be careful out there! Two guys tried to kidnap me, and I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.” Unwilling to believe her, I replied, “Samantha, I’m sorry you had a rough morning. I’ll be thinking of you. Hope your day gets better.” I continued out the church doors and opened my umbrella.
I later discovered that Samantha was mugged that morning. Thankfully, the police believed her while I had blown her off. They arrested the alleged perpetrators that afternoon.
I’m embarrassed by my lack of gentleness and compassion toward Samantha, and I know I’m not alone. I wonder what it means for the Church to embrace, accept and listen to those who have mental illnesses. I wonder how church leaders like myself can grow and help others to deepen their care for people like Samantha.
There are no simple answers, but I think the answer starts in a simple place:
We stand with them in the rain.
Lisa Schubert is Associate Pastor of Discipleship and Formation of North United Methodist Church, Indianapolis.
“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”
Galatians 5:1
There are certain people who are just stuck in this seemingly endless cycle of sin. Oh, I feel conviction. Oh, I confess and repent and I receive forgiveness. And then the next day it happens all over again, and they are in this seemingly endless cycle. There are two truths that we have to embrace here. They are not mutually exclusive; they are perfectly compatible.
It is a good thing for you to see your sin.
You need to feel the conviction of the Spirit on the one hand, but God doesn’t want you to stay in that mindset. He says “When I awaken your heart to the reality of how you’ve fallen short, come quickly to the throne of grace and look at the many ways in which I have dealt with that sin. I have put it behind my back. I’ve buried it in the depths of the sea. I’ve blotted it out. I’ve trampled it underfoot. I turned my face away from it. I won’t gaze upon it.”
And it’s the power of that truth that will enable us to break out of this cycle in which so many people find themselves. It’s a cycle in which they just live in constant fear and trepidation. Oh, maybe I’ve done it one too many times, and God’s just so fed up with me that I’m going to be cast aside forever.
Live now in the freedom and the joy of knowing that you are forgiven fully and finally.
Sam Storms
I’ve actually heard people say, I envisioned myself coming to the Lord once again and him saying, ‘Oh no, not you again. The umpteenth time and are you just expecting me to forgive you over and over and over again?’ And they live in fear that God’s just going to run dry and not have mercy, that he’s going to run out of grace.
And God has said, “Look, it’s good that you recognize the ways you have failed. I don’t want you to live oblivious to the fact that you have disobeyed in an unrepentant and high-handed way. But know this: I have dealt with that sin. The punishment that deserves has been exhausted in Jesus.
Live now in the freedom and the joy of knowing that you are forgiven fully and finally, and let that be the power to break the cycle of the constant repetitive falling back into these old ways and these old patterns of the past.”
“Live in the fullness of your freedom in Jesus.”
Sam Storms (PhD, University of Texas at Dallas) has spent more than four decades in ministry as a pastor, professor, and author. He is currently the senior pastor at Bridgeway Church in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, and was previously a visiting associate professor of theology at Wheaton College from 2000 to 2004. He is the founder of Enjoying God Ministries and blogs regularly at SamStorms.org.
“I took Israel by the arm and taught them to walk. But they would not admit that I was the one who had healed them.”
Hosea 11:3
Early in my walk, over 40 years ago, I concluded that I would be able to acquire all the knowledge that I could ever want. I was on the short track, going up of course. It was a glorious thing, it took me some time to realize I was very ignorant of so much.
The Bible communicates truth, not always facts.
As I age, I start to understand that things are much more enigmatic and unfathomable than I ever dreamed they would be. It is a step of faith to accept the truth when there are still a lot of things that are still vague.
Take the mystery of healing for example:
“You say you have faith to be healed, but what about the faith to be sick?”
Mike Mason
That’s a penetrating question, indeed. “Why are some healed, and others are not? Why do I have eternal life, and my friend does not? Why should AIDS sweep through poor African villages when I live in a very comfortable suburb in the US?”
I have many other questions like this.
And I’m not making a whole lot of headway here. Reasons and facts are not there. Life becomes more mysterious and inscrutable. But there is a word we must know–it is the word “trust.” It is a faith that assists us through the landscape of challenging questions.
As a sometimes struggling, mentally ill Christian, many (even in my own church) create more questions for me. “Therapists, psychiatrists, and daily medications are really good, but do you really need them?” or “Did God create in you the need for lithium and Zoloft?” and ” How can you follow Jesus when you have all of these depression issues?”
And here’s a humdinger that stings, “Where is your joy?”
But it is precisely these issues that help me be a disciple. Someone who must trust.
I’ve been slowly learning you see. And my weaknesses are becoming my strengths. They lead me to exercise my feeble faith. I trust in Jesus; my faith helps me trust. I find it interesting to note that the Book of Psalms, for the most part, was written by “a broken believer” like David– a king and (also) a rascal.
These nebulous areas have only increased.
And ironically my trust has only grown. I have more questions than ever before, but my faith in him only gets stronger. I suppose I will never, ever be a gleefully upbeat, cheery person. But I am learning “to trust and obey, there is no other way…”
He himself has taken up the chore of teaching me to walk again. But just one thing, He wants me to keep trusting.
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. 2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.
‘Who gathered this flower?’ The gardener answered, ‘The Master.’ And his fellow servant held his peace.”
It was November 13th, in the year of our Lord 1999, was unlike any day I have ever experienced. A beating with a baseball bat would seem preferable. On this cold afternoon, hell was unleashed on my wife and I. What we encountered was soul-wrenching and profoundly tragic.
Perhaps a parent’s worst nightmare is the loss of a child.
On this day we lost Elizabeth Grace. She was stillborn, which is rare these days– or so I have been told. She entered this world fully formed, a beautiful baby girl. Today, she would have been 24 years old, and maybe married, planning a family of her own?
“But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.”
2 Samuel 12:23, (When David’s newborn son died.)
Our loss was grievous, but we know that there are others.
Plenty of families have suddenly lost a child. I can truly commiserate with them. Somehow we are connected in a perverse way. It seems like an exclusive club, that requires a secret handshake, or something. Suddenly without warning, you are thrown into personal chaos, and very little is remotely decipherable, even to a believer.
The book of Ecclesiastes that there is a definite “time to mourn.” Matthew tells us, “Blessed are those who mourn.” He does go on to say. “for they shall be comforted.”This comfort is available for any who chooses to take it, but you can refuse it if you really want to.
Grief unites us all, but Jesus loves us infinitely.
I can’t imagine meeting life without his care and comfort. He has been outstandingly gracious to this family. Sure there was pain, but there was also tenderness and a kind grace. Still, sometimes it may have felt like a “kick in the head.” (But I assure you– it was grace.)
What I still can’t understand is simply this. What would it have cost God to allow Elisabeth to live? I mean, what ‘skin off His nose’ would’ve it taken to let her live? To this day I still have questions, but I have decided to trust. (I trust Him after all, to save my soul.)
Those who have suffered will comprehend and grasp, the noxious environment of grief and loss.
But we can only take what we are dealt. The sadness is there, but so is His comfort. Make no mistake, His love matches (and even exceeds) the pain and the loss of a child. Truly, God is wonderful and He is good.
I do know that He loves me, a weirdly rascalish, struggling disciple. He holds me close to His precious heart, and I will have no other gods except Him. I will not take up umbrage with Him on this. But I must believe that someday soon, I will truly and completely understand this.
This post and poem were originally written while I waited in my doctor’s waiting room to talk to her about my pain medication. When I told her I was writing a thankfulness poem titled “Pain and Suffering” she was skeptical, until I told her the perspective from which it was written.
“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.”
James 1:2-3
Although I would love to live a life in which I experienced no pain or suffering, that is not my lot. (I’ve never actually met anyone who did live a life with absolutely no pain or suffering.) I know that those who find their way here to Broken Believers have often had more than their fair share.
I have finally come to a place in my life where I can find the good in all my pain and suffering – the “silver lining” if you will – in that it has taught me perseverance and compassion.
For that I am very thankful.
I am also thankful for God’s promise that my perseverance will finish its work so that I will be mature and complete. It will happen, I know it! God promised.
Pain and Suffering
I will pray because I care as the pain drags you down Exhausting endless pain
I understand how you feel I’m exhausted just like you
I have no power to eliminate the pain Yours or mine
Will you let compassion blossom from the compost of your pain?
Or will bitterness engulf your soul as pain ravages your body and mind?
Because I care I will pray that we persevere that the pain will be eased
I will remind you this, too, shall pass someday
It might not be until Jesus returns or calls us home
But we’ll make it We’ll persevere and become mature and complete I will pray because I care
Will you pray for me, too?
“God blesses those who patiently endure testing and temptation. Afterward they will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”
“A rule I have had for years is: to treat the Lord Jesus Christ as a personal friend. His is not a creed, a mere doctrine, but it is He Himself we have.”
~D.L. Moody
Friendship with God can be a liberating secret for the believer. It releases us from the terrible bondage of religion and ritual with all its negative connotations. Intimacy with our Lord will carry us beyond creed or doctrine to the place of true communion.
It’s not that the Law is bad, but in the intense light of God’s grace, it’s a very poor substitute for intimacy. We value legalism, and that is precisely what we believe when we bypass the relationship. Doctrine is a good servant, but a poor master.
Grace always trumps legalism. Love truly surpasses rules.
As good evangelicals, we can talk big about “a personal relationship.” That is indeed crucial. But few be the believers that walk in a daily friendship with their Savior. That is truly a tragedy.
As a teacher of God’s Word, I mourn over my listeners when they miss out on what is real and true. I’m afraid for them.
“I no longer call you slaves, because a master doesn’t confide in his slaves. Now you are my friends since I have told you everything the Father told me.”
John 15:15, NLT
Friendship with Jesus will bring true guidance. He shares secrets and wisdom with his friends. We are brought into a true knowledge of the Kingdom through the relationship of friendship with the King. We are not slaves– or drones, slavishly serving out of slavish fear.
We are now His friends!
Jesus’ kingdom is packed full of great mysteries! He is looking to bring us into the authenticity of constant communion. Only through intimacy with Jesus can we truly handle what He wants to teach us. (See Psalm 25:14; John 15:15.)
He will heal our wounds, and forgive all our sins. He is truly our Savior as well as our friend.
Friendship with Jesus comes with a price. It means we are now tethered to the Lord. That can get old, especially when I want to do my own thing. I will continually have to lay something down and choose to accept being tethered and follow Him.
But my soul now has a best friend. Or just maybe, Jesus has been my friend all along, and I just didn’t know it.
“For I am ready to fall, and my pain is ever before me.”
Psalm 38:17
Over 85 million Americans live in chronic pain. That’s amazing. Maybe you’re one of them and maybe you just want to understand — perhaps you have a friend or family member who is hurting. They’re facing their dragon and that can be a challenge.
Pain can be constant, or, it can be intermittent. It shows up unpredictably. One never knows when. But believe me, it is terribly real, even if it’s not continual. I look at my dragon in the eye far too often. Way too often.
There are different kinds and various levels to it. Healthcare people often use the Numerical Rating Scale (NRS). Pain is ranked by numbers between 1-10, the higher the number the greater the pain.
Christians are part of that 85 million. We’re not immune just because we believe in Jesus. Some of us will hurt.
Coping with Chronic Pain
Learn all you can about your particular issue. I’m constantly looking and hopefully learning all I can, I want to be an expert. Research things. Google and Wikipedia can be deep reservoirs of knowledge.
Learn how to worship and pray in a brand new way. Things have changed now and seeking Him becomes a challenge, and, it can be easier.
Insomnia
Depression or anxiety, or both.
Fatigue, or stress.
Mood swings.
Doctors and meds.
Advice to Caregivers
I have to warn you, severe pain can make your dear one irrational. Pain can get so intense that you will find it impossible to relate to the sufferer. I once had a fierce battle with Complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) in both forearms. Most doctors rate this as one of the worst types of pain to have.
Morphine didn’t help. Lynnie (my wife) could only watch and pray as the dragon kept attacking me, over and over. She watched me writhe in pain and she was pretty much helpless.
I was very angry, wildly rude and terribly mean. I was frustrated because I couldn’t communicate how bad the pain was. Over and over I tried to share how I was feeling, but words were not enough.
Some advance the idea that you need to find enough faith to be healed, but what about having enough faith to live in constant pain?
“He saw the disciples straining at the oars because the wind was against them.”
Mark 6:48
It’s good to know that Jesus sees our labor. He truly understands all that concerns us, and he understands every issue that concerns us. Attentive and keenly aware He comes to our boat. It’s quite common for us to think that he isn’t aware, and we may feel that He’ll pass us by without a word.
Jesus watches over us all the time.
He knows all about our battles, the fight we have with our flesh, the difficulty we have with the challenging people in our lives. I often struggle to steer my boat. Jesus knows when and why I labor like I do. And He doesn’t condemn me.
The disciples were straining hard to keep the boat afloat.
Every oar was being used and every man had his seat. They must work together. Some were frantically bailing, and a couple gripped the tiller. Considerable effort was being expended but nothing was working. The wind pushed harder against them.
This is really perplexing. If you remember, they’re simply trying to obey the command of Jesus to cross the sea.
Why do things have to be so difficult?
I’m intrigued by believers who expect sunshine, blue sky, and red roses just because they are doing God’s will. They don’t seem to think through the issues of conflict and challenge, weakness and humility.
“It is necessary to go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.”
Acts 14:22
Doing the will of God will often mean that there will be a headwind directly at us.
The seas will become impossible, and we may even be driven back. But special comfort comes when we realize we’re being watched. Jesus is doing constant surveillance on us, and He sees our toil on the oars. He comes to us, walking on the water.
Even in our storm, our hearts should trust and rejoice.
“Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age”
I need Him constantly. Just maybe that’s the backbone of true discipleship. We dare not think that discipleship, which is following Jesus Christ, can happen without any real intimacy to Him.
We’re called to love Him first.
Some of us struggle physically and mentally. We are the handicapped ones, and we know it–we understand our shortcomings and flaws. The purpose of this blog has been to encourage and comfort, that is the focus of brokenbelievers.com. What follows is the motto of this ministry:
“Serving Rascals, Clumsy Disciples, and Mentally Ill Believers with the Unconditional Love of Jesus Christ.”
Linda and I will emphasize this over and over, these posts are written by us three times a week. We want to encourage you in your struggle. I know you battle, and we want to serve you.
Both of us have struggled and found Jesus. I myself have had my lion’s share of raging battles, I have a paralyzed right arm and am also a brain tumor survivor. I’ve struggled with chronic depression and must take meds–these lay me at His feet. And I lay my issues at His.
At Jesus’ very core is a solid promise. I believe it’s who exactly who He is, the very core of His being, the very center of His character. These verses are how Jesus wants to be understood and known. And then He offers us an invitation:
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”
Matthew 11:28-29, ESV
We are called to be with Jesus every day–maybe in each moment. I really do think that intimacy with Him can be the cure for all that disturbs us about ourselves. Now I’m not saying that our issues evaporate, but we begin to see that they can be conquered, and only if we draw close and are filled with the Holy Spirit daily.
“For I feel a divine jealousy for you, since I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ. 3 But I am afraid that as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ.”
2 Corinthians 11:2-3
I’m convinced that we’ll see significant breakthroughs as we sit at the feet of Jesus. The passage above (v. 3) describes a satanic attack that seduces us from a 100% pure devotion to Jesus. We read of Paul’s deep concern–apparently the Corinthians were under attack.
And Paul warns them. And us as well.
“But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.”
I’ve been thinking a lot about tears lately—in part because Pastor Bryan pointed out to me how many hits my post titled God Keeps Your Tears in a Bottle has had, in part because I’ve cried more than a few tears this year, and in part because I’ve been listening to Johnny Cash’s Cry, Cry, Cry in my car all week—and I thought I’d share my thoughts with you all here.
First of all, people cry for a lot of reasons.
Earlier this year my sister died of breast cancer at only 61 years old. I cried, a lot. It’s normal and even helpful to shed tears over the death of a loved one even if we know where they are going when they die, because it allows us to express the grief we feel over not having them in our lives any more here on earth.
I remember a time I had a previous boss say some very cruel things to me in front of other people. She accused me of having done things I had not based on motives I did not have. I was very angry, hurt, and frustrated. And I cried, a lot. I didn’t cry in front of her, mind you, but afterwards I did. And it was good to express that anger to others.
I’ve cried tears of loss, anger, indignation with frustration, compassion, and even of joy. I sometimes cry tears of regret when I hear a song about the sacrifice of Jesus, knowing it is my sin that made him suffer.
Just yesterday I experienced unexpected tears.
I was reciting the prayers of the people in church, which I’ve done many times. Our church has many prayer concerns for members, family, and friends with health concerns and more. Towards the end of the prayer I began to lift up prayers for a church member’s brother-in-law who is a pastor back in New York because he is faced with conducting the funerals of two teens who had been killed in an accident last week.
I recently wrote this poem.
Tears
Tears of sorrow, anger drench my soul course without end eroding pain, anguish
Where once only aching occupied my heart now is a deep empty ravine carved by a river of tears
Tears of forgiveness water my soul’s riverbed allowing flowers of love to flourish and grow
Peace arises in my heart held aloft by God’s promises the fragrance of sweet alyssum blossoms of my soul
I think the saddest tears of all, though, are the tears of major clinical depression. These tears are so sad because the one who cries them doesn’t know what purpose they serve.
I remember when I was suffering from depression sitting in a chair and just crying. When someone asked me why I was crying all I could say was, “I don’t know.” And I truly didn’t. The tears didn’t wash away pain; they only seemed to make it all the worse.
In the midst of such tears, there is One who knows their purpose.
Romans 8:26 says: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” Through prayer God can sometimes lead us to an understanding of the purpose of the tears of depression, and ultimately to healing.
That makes your tears a good thing.
“Tears are often the telescope by which men see far into heaven.“
The Father is constantly drawing us to the place of blessing. All He wants is a humble heart that receives His grace daily. Your need is God’s focus, and He wants desperately to fill you with Himself. He calls us constantly to receive something new.
“You have poured over me fresh oil.”
Psalm 92:10
It’s interesting, the Jews had no word that corresponds to fresh. Their word (used here) was “green” and it was a way of describing a flourishing vine or fig tree. The sap that runs through the vine brings life to the fruit.
Yesterday’s oil is old. At best, I suppose it encourages us that the grace-filled Father will again bless us again. And honestly, tomorrow’s oil is in the future, and it’s hoped for. It’s the present day oil that must be sought.
Having grace for today is really what matters.
Check these verses out–
“And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh…”
Joel 2:28
“…you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”
Psalm 23:5
Clearly God is not stingy when it comes to His grace.
He pours it out lavishly. He fills our cups generously, and I strongly suspect He wants to give more than we possibly can contain. He’s your Friend–your Savior–the One who sustains your life, and He loves you!
“Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.”
Luke 6:38
Your spiritual food will come each morning as you look to Him. It should become a daily meeting; your spirit needs Him and His words. Yesterday’s time may have been good, but living in obedience demands a constant awareness of Him.
“Old anointing’s will not suffice to impart unction to thy spirit; thine head must have fresh oil poured upon it from the golden horn of the sanctuary, or it will cease from its glory.”
Charles Spurgeon
Are you broken? Flawed and stumbling?
Do you think that you are a poor example of a believer? I tell you, His love is not contingent on your outward behavior. You need Him. You need Him to be a fruitful believer.
God’s love is a Greek word, it is an “agape” love. Narrowly defined as an “unconditional love,” not related to what you deserve, earn, or warrant. It is a love given without an expectation of a corresponding love in return. This is His love, and it travels with grace.
The grace of God means He is holding you close, in a way seems to become overprotective of you. Anyone who touches you, touches “the apple of His eye.” Let none question, you are His own.
Put yourself under His grace. Tune your heart to His. He is waiting for you.
“For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.“
: Loss of hope and surrender to despair. 2. : a state of hopelessness leading to rashness.
Synonyms–desperation · concern · dejection · depression · despondency · disconsolateness · distraction · distress · pang · torture · trouble · worry. noun as in rashness.
A terrific study is finding the people who fell at Jesus’ feet. Tucked in the Gospels you’ll find stories of those who despair. You’ll also see them come to Jesus in brokenness and humility, without any other recourse. I call these the feet-finders.
They came to Jesus because they had no hope otherwise. They were people who were hopeless and wretched, they had long ago run out of options. They came to Jesus, falling down in front of Him. They were all feet-finders.
They were men and women who were truly desperate.
“Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
John 11:32
One of the classic scenes in the Gospels is when Mary meets Jesus after her brother’s death. She doesn’t understand Jesus’ delay, Lazarus has been very ill and Jesus could have healed him. She is grieving and confused. But she only has one posture and one place in her heart to be– at the feet!
There are some common characteristics that feet-finders have:
A great need that can’t be met without His touch
To understand one’s true condition–humility, brokenness
To beg for a healing, for self or family
To honor Jesus as the Messiah
To be more receptive to His teaching, to understand Him
To become a witness to others (although it does seem secondary)
The following 3 verses are just a small selection of those who fell at Jesus feet.
“And great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others, and they put them at his feet, and he healed them.”
Matthew 15:30
“But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet.“
Mark 7:25
“Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.”
Luke 8:35
But there are several other instances where people came to sit at Jesus’ feet:
Mark 5:22-23, Jairus, a leader in the local synagogue
Luke 7:37-38, a sorrowing mother for her daughter
Luke 8:41, also Jairus
Luke 10:39, Mary, when Jesus was teaching
John 11:32, Mary, meeting Jesus entering Bethany
John 12:3, Mary, with her perfume
Revelation 1:17, John to express what he was seeing (also 19:10)
In every case we find people consciously coming and kneeling at the feet of the Lord Jesus. It was a deliberate action that came from their hearts. Each had a terrible need, and each was without hope.
It’s the end of religion if you’re a feet-finder. No more facades, no more treadmills. Instead your heart forever changes.
Formality and religious politeness are jettisoned. Brokenness and true humility takes their place. A foot-finder is no longer operating on spiritual niceties. Religion is comfortable, noble, and respectable, but it cannot heal or change people deeply.
Feet-finders know that they need Jesus desperately and will go to any length just to be touched by Him. They defy what is conventional and proper. They are not what we call respectable. You can find them at the feet of Jesus. They are feet-finders. Foot-finders weep, kneel, beg, shout. Too many tears and maybe some snot.
Hardly decent to religious people.
Are you really that desperate yet? Have you seen your need, and do you realize how lost you would be without His healing touch?
Often when I do pray, I sometimes think of the woman who was unclean. She speaks to me about approaching Jesus. I see myself in a crushing crowd of people, and I’m reaching out just to touch the hem of His robe. I know only Jesus can stop my own uncleanness. (Matthew 9.)
I’m convinced only Jesus can make me clean and whole.
I’ve tried to be holy and acceptable to Him. But I felt like a juggler, trying to keep my balls in the air all at the same time, and I could never pull it off. So I tried again and again.I was the unofficial master of religious effort.
But I found my rightful place at His feet. It’s where I belong. I love Him.
Stuck in the wonders of scripture we read about Leah and her sister Rachel. We see the two daughters of Laban have become Jacob’s wives. We must step into Genesis 29 to see more.
Jacob longs for Rachel. She is his “soul mate” and because he’s in love, the customs and technicalities of the day somehow get by him. Because of this, he will have to take on Laban’s subtle trickery, where daughters get exchanged, and we must sort out who is who.
Laban’s deception creates a huge crisis for everyone.
But it seems Jacob just rolls with it. I suppose deception has always been Jacob’s strong suit. (But when we see a deceiver like Jacob gets deceived, that can’t be all bad).
But it’s Leah that I tend to think about. Her own issues are unique. Genesis 29 explains it a bit cryptically,
“Leah’s eyes were weak, but Rachel was beautiful in form and appearance.”
Genesis 29:17
You must know that there is confusion by commentators about the “weak eyes.” Some take it literally (as in, she is very “near-sighted,”) while others who look at the original Hebrew find the words to be a bit looser and vague. They tend to think that this is a polite way of saying she really wasn’t pretty.
She is wounded, and life requires that she live as unwanted. She is a woman of tragedy and broken hopes and dreams. She will always live as a reject. At best, she will always be a distant second, and perhaps a bit scorned and neglected for this.
I conclude that Leah is the champion for the challenged.
I love Leah and I think I understand her.Her life is a long tragedy and very full of sadness. For the next 30-40 years she will always be a cast-off, someone who has been broken on life’s bitter vagaries. She’s a fellow struggler, and a survivor.
Her sad life is comparable to us who have to fight so hard over our own illness or handicaps.
She must’ve been challenged by her terrible weakness. I understand this. My own life has been “topsy-turvy” and a really hard struggle. Somehow it seems we must work through these things way too much.
It doesn’t seem fair.
For those of you who are confined to a wheelchair, or must use a cane, or who deal with a physical or mental illness. Leah should be our hero. For those who have been betrayed by addiction, or who have felt rejected through a bitter divorce– Leah speaks to us.
She is for every loser and for failures of all stripes. But through all of our setbacks and messes, we must realize that God does love us– even as we weep.
We may have Leah’s eyes, but we also have His grace.
There can be no resurrection power without crucifixion weakness. There can be no power unless you die to self, taking up your personal cross. Many are frustrated by this. This teaching is not fully understood or really preached.
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
Crosses hurt, for they are a way of dying to self, plain and simple. Every spirit-filled believer must die to his agenda. If you want a resurrected life, overcoming sin and death, you must carry your cross. Death comes first, and then is resurrection. There is freedom to all who obey.
Simply put, there’s no other way for you to be holy but a cross.
Whether you’re struggling with a physical ailment (think pain), or a mental illness (also pain), you still must carry a cross. Our issues can be formidable, I understand, but you’re not exempt from the terms of discipleship. All must follow Jesus.
Jesus fully understands Calvary. He recognizes agony. His pain was real. I believe that He knows this intimately. I also think Jesus understands our weakness and confusion. His grace meets every believer. No matter if they struggle and stumble. The Spirit teaches us. All who really come are redeemed.
I think He understands our reluctance and hesitation.
I want to follow Him. I’m pretty sure that you do too (you’re reading this which tells me something). So what cross are you called to carry? They seem to be custom made–designed uniquely for you. But it’s also true that others have been tempted, just like you.
Your cross must be deliberately chosen.
It’s often a path of brokenness and humility. It may involve shame and pain–a reproach to those who can’t understand. But if you take it up you can expect the world to belittle you. If they abused Jesus, you can count on them belittling you.
Avoiding your cross means you have been conformed to what the world thinks, and that’s an awful place to be. You really can diminish your cross without doing harm to your spiritual walk. Honestly, there is not another way.
His resurrection power is given to those who have already expired. Struggles with sin and doubt often evaporate when He abides in you. He’s the power given to overcome. He’s the only one who can give it to you.
“To take up the cross of Christ is no great action done once for all; it consists in the continual practice of small duties which are distasteful to us.”
You may struggle with this and I hear you. This is not an easy word. I don’t know if I’ve given this topic justice, but I pray that I’ve touched the heart of Jesus. I stress that’s a hard word, but I think it’s true.
“The cross of Christ is the sweetest burden that I ever bore; it is such a burden as wings are to a bird, or sails to a ship, to carry me forward to my harbor.”
“But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.”
Matt. 16:23
The principles of the Kingdom will often confuse an outsider. In this chapter of Matthew, we hear Peter extolling the divinity of Jesus (vv. 15-17). Peter exceeds the norm with his analysis of what he believes is real and true.
Peter’s insight is as perceptive as it is supernatural. “You are the Christ,” Peter proclaims, “the Son of the Living God,” Jesus responds to this and He praises Peter for his sensitivity.
But, just a short time after he makes his astonishing pronouncement, he is taken apart by Jesus, being solidly rebuked face-to-face. In one clear and singular moment, he expresses a wonderful faith, and then suddenly his personal awareness precipitously crashes. He is now an evil person with Satan’s agenda. (See verse 23.)
I’m not sure why Peter does what he does.
It seems that in the light of this chapter (which actually seems like a bright glare), Peter is devastated. In three years of discipleship, it seems that all he merits is a brutal ‘dressing-down.’ All because he thinks he can correct Jesus, “the Son of the Living God.”
The rebuke is bitter. Peter is being compared to Satan!
I suspect that Peter was ashamed. He most likely wished he had a rewind button. His Savior, Jesus– has given him a new label. And it hurts. Many times, we would become resentful, maybe a bit bitter. It could cause some to walk away, developing an anger that solidifies into a permanent offense. Thank God, Peter doesn’t do anything that stupid.
The correction in the rebuke gives him life and hope.
But who’s to say we would be as correctable? Peter was rebuked in the presence of the other disciples. The publicity was embarrassing. Too many people were watching and listening. Peter will survive this, but he has to learn something valuable.
Our daily commitment to Jesus hinges on our willingness to be undone.
Jesus pretty much rakes us over the coals. He insists on total obedience to His faithfulness. And like Peter, we will learn. It may take some time though.
Every true disciple will be scorched– but incredibly loved.
The Narrows slot canyon at Zion National Park is 18 miles long and if you want to walk up it you’re in the water—often very deep water, with a strong current and rocky bottom—all the way. It’s not for the weak or faint of heart.
Sometimes in life, we find ourselves in a deep, dark valley. Often it feels more like a narrow slot canyon where no sunshine can reach.
My husband and I hiked part of the way up the Narrows last summer. There was no way I could make it the full 18 miles. Even the mile we did trek was almost too much for me. My wristband that says “I can and I will” reminded me of the hope I needed to make it back downriver.
Life itself isn’t for the faint of heart.
It’s impossible without hope. Thankfully, hope never dies. And God never leaves us alone. Never.
David reminds us in Psalm 23 that no matter how dark the slot canyon of life becomes, we are not alone. We must always remember these words, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me.” We are only walking through the dark valley and on our darkest days, hope is there.
Please dear heart, keep walking.
If you find yourself walking in darkness, unable to see the light, you must keep walking. Even if you can barely muster a crawl, keep moving forward through the dark valley. You can and you will reach the other side. And when you do, you’ll find hope was there all along.
My own valley of the shadow of death lasted more than seven years.
At the time, I felt all hope was lost. But looking back I can see that my Savior never left me. Hope never died, dim though it was.
I pray you may one day look back and see that hope has never left you either.
It’s easy to romanticize physical suffering — especially when you’re not the one experiencing it.
Saints like Amy Carmichael, who spent over twenty years bedridden, and Joni Eareckson Tada, a quadriplegic who lives in constant pain, can evoke peaceful images of unbroken communion with God. We may imagine that it’s easier for them to endure pain and weakness than it is for the rest of us.
Yet the reality of physical suffering is that it’s insistent and intrusive. No one gets used to it. Pain demands our attention. Time slows to a crawl, particularly in the middle of the night, when we’re begging God for the relief of sleep. We feel alone and isolated. No one else can enter the prison that our bodies have become.
Pain Accumulates
If that weren’t enough, physical pain rarely exists in isolation — it’s usually accompanied by loss, weakness, and dependence. Often, we require help with basic daily needs, and we worry about the burden we’re putting on others. We second-guess every request, not wanting to bother someone one more time. Will people get tired and think we’re “too much”? Do they resent their lack of freedom?
We longingly remember the carefree days before our physical struggles altered our lives, when we could do what we wanted. Now we measure our energy in teaspoons rather than buckets. We weigh every decision, every action. Saying yes to one activity means saying no to many others. It is hard not to envy those with fit bodies, who seem to have no cares.
Pain, loneliness, and longing can give way to depression and despair. We cry out to the Lord for relief, but relief doesn’t come. The cancer spreads. Sleep eludes us. The pain intensifies. The medicine stops working. The side effects multiply. Our caregivers grow weary. Our friends stop checking in. Our resources run dry.
Doubt Advances
The vibrant faith we once had begins to fade — which is exactly what Satan wants to happen as we suffer. He wants us to doubt and fall away from God, convinced that he is indifferent to our cries. Satan knows that we’re susceptible to discouragement when we’re physically depleted, so that’s when he attacks. As physical needs scream for attention, Satan whispers to us, “Does God even hear you, let alone really care for you? If he does, why isn’t he delivering you?”
“If God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance.”
Insidious doubts slip in, making us question beliefs we once held rock-solid: Are we deeply loved by an all-powerful Father? As soon as we recognize the mental shift, we need to stop and cry out to God, asking him to meet us in our sorrow, to deliver us from our pain, and to show us evidence of his goodness and love. Are we fixating on all that we’ve lost, on how God hasn’t delivered us, on how hopeless we feel? Or do we recognize that God is with us, working for our good, and caring for us each moment?
What we think about in the moments of our deepest pain is critical. Our mindset will determine how we approach the questions that bombard us. Here are three common questions I’ve asked:
How can God be “for me” if I’m still suffering?
How can God use my weakness for good?
What good can come in moments of overwhelming pain?
How can God be ‘for me’ if I’m still suffering?
Sometimes God miraculously delivers us when we plead for relief, like at the parting of the Red Sea. Other times he sustains us, as he did with manna in the wilderness. The Red Sea deliverance freed the Israelites, but their need for manna kept them dependent on God. In gathering manna, they had a harder time forgetting their reliance on God. And if God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance, since it can keep us in constant communion with him.
Take the apostle Paul. He begged God for deliverance from his thorn in the flesh, but instead he received grace — grace to bear the thorn, grace to be content with weakness, grace that would carry him through other trials as well (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).
When we realize that we can depend on God in our weakness, we learn to trust him in everything. Anyone can thank God for quick deliverance from physical suffering, but we often forget him until the next crisis. Yet when he sustains us in our pain, we’re confident that he is with us always.
How can God use my physical weakness for good?
We may think our physical weakness is keeping us from maximum fruitfulness, but that’s impossible. Our weaknesses are a part of God’s plan for our lives; they are intertwined with our calling. Paul thought his thorn was hampering his ministry, but God knew that it was the key to his strength: it forced Paul to be wholly dependent on God. When we are depleted and exhausted, lacking any resources of our own — it is then that we fully rely on God.
And in that reliance, we discover the power of God flowing through us — the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (Ephesians 1:19–20). This power keeps us enduring when we want to give up; it showcases God’s glory and brings lasting change. Because Paul relied on God’s provision, he accomplished more for the kingdom with his thorn than he could have without it. His greatest strength lay in his submission to Christ.
Even Jesus’s greatest strength appeared in his greatest physical weakness.
Throughout his ministry, Jesus impacted others by his actions. He calmed the storm with a word. He fed five thousand with a few loaves and fish. He cast out demons, healed the sick, and raised the dead. He turned the world upside down.
But at the end of his ministry, from the Last Supper on, Jesus allowed others to act upon him: he was led away, he was whipped and mocked, he was beaten and crucified. When he submitted to his captors, the crowds saw weakness rather than what was really there: Jesus’s strength and power.
Just before these horrific events, Jesus begged God to take the cup of suffering from him. But it was through Christ’s submission to the will of the Father — to torture and humiliation, to physical abuse and carrying his own cross — that God brought about the most astonishing display of his power and grace.
We can play “the what if game.” We can think backwards, and hit replay, and pretend alternate realities. What if, I didn’t join the army? What if I died on that last drunken binge, choking on my own vomit? What if I would’ve died on that last suicide attempt?
He poses this question. He wants Israel to understand what he is saying. He asks the people to repeat after him. He then re-frames the question in verse 2. “What if God had not stepped into the situation?”
David insists that his listeners think this through.
And this trip down ‘memory lane’ examines what would of (or could have) happened if God would have simply taken His hand off Israel as a nation.
I truly believe that we should do the very same today. Just pause to reflect on His grace and care. Simply try to understand that it was God’s hand holding you in place all along. All that He does for us is very good.
There is also can be a sense of being overwhelmed by your enemies.
The malevolent forces of the enemy have a ministry. And that ministry is to ‘steamroll’ and crush out the light.
As a boy I remember having the same vivid dream, (especially when I was sick and would have a fever). It was always the same. I was on a conveyor belt, and I couldn’t move. At the end of that belt was huge ‘lugged’ rollers. I was going to be crushed to death. I can still remember the terror of being frozen to the moving belt. Now I realize that Satan wanted to destroy me.
David is a very vivid writer, he had a fantastic gift–a great flair of choosing the best words and images. He weaves a song and we see God intervening, protecting, and preventing Israel from becoming a Satan’s snack.
Blessed be the Lord, who has not given us as prey to their teeth! 7 We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped!
124:6-7
I love these 2 verses. “Escaped” is emphasized twice–the bird catchers have collected many small birds, snared by a little food and a strong net. They keep them in a cage. But wait! Something has just happened, and the birds have somehow escaped!
Growing up I would go ice fishing with my grandpa. He would catch some beautiful fish, and when his back was turned I would sneak them back into the water to set them free. Somehow I think this is the Father’s own heart. God wants to see you set loose!
Have you been wounded inside? Do you struggle hard with depression and loneliness?
There is so much ugliness. The enemy can throw so much at us. Many of us lack the strength to resist him. We can fight and flap and throw ourselves at the bars, but we are trapped. But then Jesus comes, He smashes cages, and frees birds like us.
Verse 8 is the final thought of this psalm. It sums up everything so wonderfully. There is help. Our Creator deeply cares for us. He has ultimate strength. Put your heart in His hands. We read the last verse…
“Our help is in the name of the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.”
This is a scary list. We’re told repeatedly that love is the evidence that disciples are to be identified. Love is the blood of the body. It’s that necessary. It’s critical. We’re called to love (one another) that proves we’re real and authentic.
Some of us are handicapped, either mentally or physically. Our issues are truly formidable, very few understand.
I pretty much live in physical pain now. I struggle with depression. I have some battles that few understand. And I get terribly self-absorbed by all of it. If love is the blood of the Christian then I absolutely need a transfusion. I’m anemic. I’m the proverbial 95 pound spiritual weakling! 😁
“Love one another.” I believe I’m missing this in my spiritual walk. For the most part I operate as “to tolerate one another.” It’s easy to love those who love me, but that’s not how discipleship to Jesus works. He wants us to find enemies to love. (At least I think it does.)
Our Teacher, the Holy Spirit, knows how ignorant we really are. But He is patient and oh so very kind. He has lessons that fit us and our needs. I want to love (usually) and I’m counting on Him to tutor me. How do I do this?
You learn to love by loving.
A few things (I know it’s a terribly incomplete list):
To love you must walk in discernment. Learn to “see” the needs of specific people. Contrary to church opinion, discernment is not to pass judgement on another, rather it’s all about seeing needs. Not everyone can do this.
To love takes availability. You need to be “ready for use.” This takes a certain amount of skill. I’m a terrible kind of introvert. Sometimes I won’t answer the phone or go to a home group. I sorta resent it. The Spirit keeps putting me in spots that require interaction with others, and I hate it.
Love creates humility in us (which takes some doing). As I learn to love I find myself stripped down and washing somebody’s feet. I become a servant who is learning to scrub between the toes if that’s what it takes.
To love you must love others just like Jesus loves you. (Yikes!) “The extra mile,” all of that. So tell me, how much has He loved you? Isn’t that supposed to teach you something? Remember, love is a fruit of Him living inside of you.
To love creates growing joy. This joy will protect us from legalism. When joy is operational every burden is light–we do our tasks smiling. I heard a preacher speak about J.O.Y. Jesus, Others, and You. In order of importance.
To love is to learn how to pray. Intercession is like oxygen to a fire. It’s like one of those old fashioned bellows to a sputtering flame. It pumps air into the pile of twigs and wood to spread the fire and ignite a blaze. We pray and love starts spreading.
To live with hard mental and physical issues as an authentic Christian is profoundly difficult. We get so self-absorbed at times. But being a disciple of love isn’t just for healthy believers, it’s also for us who struggle.
Grace is increased exponentially to those of us with deep physical problems.
I totally believe this. God takes special care as He works on and in us. We can count on Him to give us the extra attention we need as we learn love.
I’ve found that suffering is like learning another language. Changed by His love we are speaking to others in a way they understand. We can communicate with others because we’ve learned how to “speak their language.” We have been taught by God to speak into broken lives because we’ve been broken too.
“And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.”
Mark 10:53, ESV
God has touched you in a profound way, (at least I hope so.) Only He could’ve done this. You’re not the same person now. Just like Jesus healed blind Bartimaeus, you too can really see. The beggar becomes a follower. (Mark 10:46-53.)
So what’s next?
There is always another step to take as we follow Jesus. Everyday there is something new. Our salvation is given freely, but we discover that it’s something active–more like a flowing stream and less like a stagnant pool. If we truly have been “healed,” we’ll want to follow. And now each day is a joyous adventure.
After all, we’ve been terribly blind for a long, long time.
Bartimaeus would never be able to truly explain what had happened to him, at least not in a perfect or complete way to the others–but no matter, it really wasn’t necessary. (But I must believe he tried.) He could see!
Notice the sequence of events in verse 53—
Jesus: “Go your own way.”
Bartimaeus: “..followed Him on the way.”
He was now a true follower. No longer a blind beggar, but he now was a true companion of Jesus and the “church.” He now walked with other believers in the Master’s band of disciples. (Having been blind and instantaneously given sight changed him forever.)
So what happened next?
I suspect Bartimaeus followed the Lord all the way. Although scripture doesn’t say what happened, I believe this ‘ex-blind’ man was now a visible witness to any with eyes to see. Bartimaeus became an authentic witness–God’s megaphone to the power and mercy of Jesus Christ.
To follow the One who saved us is the most wonderful adventure. Each of us comes with awful “sicknesses” and sins. Some of us were physically or mentally ill. We might have been thieves, liars and murderers–but no more. Some of us were adulterers, gay, child molesters, “perverts”–twisted and caught in our own sin. Proud, angry, selfish. Drunks and addicts. Sinners, and rebels.
(I could keep it going, after all I don’t want to miss you.) 😁
But we are now forgiven and healed; and now Jesus calls us to follow Him, every day. I believe that there is always another step. So, what happens next? I believe that there is always something.
I can’t say exactly. Each believer has a different story.
But I do know tomorrow’s life episode is going to be something fantastic, and a challenge. The fruit of the Holy Spirit is given to each who are truly being discipled to follow. The road in front of you just might be excruciatingly hard, but truly there is joy in our journey with Jesus.
“You called, You cried, You shattered my deafness, You sparkled, You blazed, You drove away my blindness, You shed Your fragrance, and I drew in my breath, and I pant for You.”
“For we do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, of our trouble which came to us in Asia:
that we were burdened beyond measure, above strength, so that we despaired even of life.“
2 Corinthians 1:8
“We should all fortify ourselves against the dark hours of depression by cultivating a deep distrust of the certainties of despair. Despair is relentless in the certainties of its pessimism.”
“But we have seen again and again, from our own experience and others’, that absolute statements of hopelessness that we make in the dark are notoriously unreliable. Our dark certainties are not sureties.”
John Piper
It is my deliberateness, and not the impulsiveness that scares me. I know despair. I know what it is like to be ‘backed into a corner’ and then feel a totally empty desperation. But you must understand, there can also be a weird seductiveness to ‘being lost,’ a strange sort of nobility, a twisted kind of weird honor when it comes to despair.
Some people are convinced they are never going to change. They embrace the ‘dark certainties’ of knowing they are profoundly flawed and therefore damned. It’s these dear ones that Jesus especially came for.
Now, this really seems rather bizarre, that people could do this intentionally, deliberately. But I’m afraid to tell you that it happens all the time. Despair is chosen over the option of life. This is the ‘lostness’ of the race of Adam.
Perhaps suicide begins before the action? Perhaps it starts days, weeks or months before we actually do the deed?
Pop culture has given us words, albeit in a rather simplistic form. I just happened to think right now of an old AC/DC song, ‘Highway to Hell‘. The lyrics are pretty basic and very simple, but the lead singer seems to really have a chronically, decided dedication to being one of the irretrievably lost.
The songwriter formats a ‘certain glory’ to being part of the damned. This is a simplistic approach to the next stop– a more advanced case of stark-white despair, suicide. (We can call this ‘spiritual hubris,’ or even, “sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll.”)
In dealing with sin we can make two mistakes. One is to make light of it. The other is to be overwhelmed, throw up our hands, and surrender.
When we decide to live this kind of living, we’re pulled into a vortex of a black melancholy with a dash of fatalism, which makes it reasonable and weirdly heroic in some perverse way. We love the dark, and we embrace a fatal life–it becomes our identity.
To escape this ‘drowning despair’ we must first dethrone our right to personal sovereignty. And secondly, we need to grab the concept that God’s grace has an ultimate power that supersedes our notions of a ‘deserved’ love. (It’s completely undeserved.)
We must believe that somehow, someway, God chooses us out of a pile–a pile of the worst and ugliest that has ever existed. And somehow, He delights in doing this, and after all, He is the Lord.
We’re meant to be the people of true hope.
Our problems, our addictions, force us to clearly renounce our evil follyof despair. Our issues make us vulnerable. I’ve discovered that there is a seductiveness to giving up and taking up the sin of despair. There can be a ‘weird romance’ that lures those who walk out this living DEATH.
But honestly, is it not even more heroic to live in hope? To live a life full of joy?
“Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you.”
A terrific study is finding the people who fell at Jesus’ feet. Tucked in the Gospels you’ll find stories of those who despair. You’ll also see them come to Jesus in brokenness and humility, without any other recourse. I call these the feet-finders.
They came to Jesus because they had no hope otherwise. They were people who were hopeless and wretched, they had long ago run out of options. They came to Jesus, falling down in front of Him. They were all feet-finders.
They were men and women who were truly desperate.
“Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
John 11:32
One of the classic scenes in the Gospels is when Mary meets Jesus after her brother’s death. She doesn’t understand Jesus’ delay, Lazarus has been very ill and Jesus could have healed him. She is grieving and confused. But she only has one posture and one place in her heart to be– at the feet!
There are some common characteristics that feet-finders have:
A great need that can’t be met without His touch
To understand one’s true condition–humility, brokenness
To beg for a healing, for self or family
To honor Jesus as the Messiah
To be more receptive to His teaching, to understand Him
To become a witness to others (although it does seem secondary)
The following 3 verses are just a small selection of those who fell at Jesus feet.
“And great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others, and they put them at his feet, and he healed them.”
Matthew 15:30
“But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet.“
Mark 7:25
“Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.”
Luke 8:35
But there are several other instances where people came to sit at Jesus’ feet:
Mark 5:22-23, Jairus, a leader in the local synagogue
Luke 7:37-38, a sorrowing mother for her daughter
Luke 8:41, also Jairus
Luke 10:39, Mary, when Jesus was teaching
John 11:32, Mary, meeting Jesus entering Bethany
John 12:3, Mary, with her perfume
Revelation 1:17, John to express what he was seeing (also 19:10)
In every case we find people consciously coming and kneeling at the feet of the Lord Jesus. It was a deliberate action that came from their hearts. Each had a terrible need, and each was without hope.
It’s the end of religion if you’re a feet-finder. No more facades, no more treadmills. Instead your heart forever changes.
Formality and religious politeness are jettisoned. Brokenness and true humility takes their place. A foot-finder is no longer operating on spiritual niceties. Religion is comfortable, noble, and respectable, but it cannot heal or change people deeply.
Feet-finders know that they need Jesus desperately and will go to any length just to be touched by Him. They defy what is conventional and proper. They are not what we call respectable. You can find them at the feet of Jesus. They are feet-finders. Foot-finders weep, kneel, beg, shout. Too many tears and maybe some snot.
Hardly decent to religious people.
Are you really that desperate yet? Have you seen your need, and do you realize how lost you would be without His healing touch?
Often when I do pray, I sometimes think of the woman who was unclean. She speaks to me about approaching Jesus. I see myself in a crushing crowd of people, and I’m reaching out just to touch the hem of His robe. I know only Jesus can stop my own uncleanness. (Matthew 9.)
I’m convinced only Jesus can make me clean and whole.
I’ve tried to be holy and acceptable to Him. But I felt like a juggler, trying to keep my balls in the air all at the same time, and I could never pull it off. So I tried again and again.I was the unofficial master of religious effort.
But I found my rightful place at His feet. It’s where I belong. I love Him.
Several years ago, the Holy Spirit upended my understanding of the Church. It took some time, as I’ve been in full time ministry for almost 40 years now–and that can be good, or bad. I made many mistakes, and naturally blamed most of the failures on others.
Over the years I suppose I had made the Body of Christ into a competitive sport. And although I wouldn’t have phrased it exactly that way, it was how I approached the Christian brothers and sisters in my life. There were simply rungs to be climbed.
A great deal of my effort was generated to receive the proper recognition.
I had misunderstood the nature of being a ‘gifted’ person. As I look back, I was very much like James and John, in Matt. 20:20-22. It wasn’t so much that I was exalting myself, but I felt (?) that I needed to push for all that Jesus had for me. I desperately thought it had to be on a platform.
We must learn to respect the giftedness of others.
Often, this is easy. Encountering those with a special ability, it can be fairly easy to do. When we hear a teacher or preacher, a worship leader or even an amazing writer we often put them on a pedestal. Because of that gifting it becomes fairly simple for the Church to recognize them.
I suspect we’re probably more inclined to operate out of our own envy or frustration. Rather than accepting others, we look for any reason at all to invalidate and disparage them. We scour and search for anything to minimize or reject our “competitor.” To bolster our efforts, we label it as “discernment.” This justifies us, as we think that it is protecting the Church.
The Spirit, out of His infinite inventory, distributes the gifts to the Church.
We honor and respect Him when we acknowledge that. We don’t elevate the person, but we do accept them, and their obvious gifts. We can’t ignore any sin, but we should recognize the Spirit’s decision to use a person in a certain way. Almost always, that gift is hidden in a clay pot. And maybe that’s our difficulty? (I have met some gifted saints who were absolute jerks).
What about a person who has a gift that is seen in someone 30 years younger than you? Paul wrote young Timothy precise instructions on how to handle his youth, and understand how he should understand his position in the Body.
“Don’t let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity.”
1 Timothy 4:12
We honor the Spirit when we honor His gifted people.
We should respect the giftedness that others may have. Humility often varies with the person, the gift and the maturity. And yet, it would be foolishness for us to think we have settled this issue, once and for all.
A good place to start. And finish:
“Be desirous, my son, to do the will of another rather than thine own.”
I’m told that courage is to do something that frightens you. That it is being strong in the face of pain and suffering. If that’s true (and I suspect that it is) then I haven’t arrived yet. I’m a spiritual “chicken.”
It seems at times I’ve been ‘gifted’ with cowardice! 😁
I also struggle with chronic depression, and am physically handicapped. I have lost the use of my right arm and hand. I no longer have any balance and must use a cane. This is due to a brain tumor I had in 2002. I’ve had over a dozen head injuries which only has compounded the ataxia.
I admit I sometimes get angry with God. I also get spiritually confused as I try to walk like Jesus wants me too. My frustration with Him is all foolishness when I think of all He has given me. I pretend.
I’m also afflicted with a terrible disease called “Facebookitist.”
I find that this blog I write sometimes covers up a multitude of my own sins. You see and read what I want you to see. I polish up things to preserve a modicum of spiritual decency. I want you to see me as faithful and triumphant. A real disciple, (but that’s often a bit of a stretch).
“When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer.”
“To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God’s grace means.”
“As Thomas Merton put it, “A saint is not someone who is good but who experiences the goodness of God.”
Brennan Manning
I once was confronted by a younger believer, “I don’t know you, brother, you’re two different people.” And honestly I’m sure he was right. I am.
And what is the truth often scares me. I’m typically a coward who tries to speak the things that are real and true. I occasionally realize when I write something that’s spiritually false, and that scares me. God have mercy.
I think all I want is God’s stamp of approval. And yours as well.
I realize that I end up wanting truth which is no small thing. Many lies must be stripped away and that seems to take time. It’s like scraping away layers of varnish on a table you’re working on. I’m pretty much coated with sin. I desperately need the truth to survive.
“If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.”
“Jesus comes not for the super-spiritual but for the wobbly and the weak-kneed who know they don’t have it all together, and who are not too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.”
There will be no wheelchairs, canes, or even ‘seeing-eye dogs’ allowed in heaven. Outside the gates, you will find a huge pile of crutches.
Some of us have been struggling with mental or physical illness, facing a daily battle against invisible demons that others cannot comprehend. It is a lonely journey, as many people around us don’t understand the depths of our pain, and they unknowingly contribute to our isolation. Their lack of understanding can be hurtful, as it reinforces the feeling of being abandoned and forgotten.
In these moments, we might even question our faith and wonder why God has afflicted us with such burdens. We might ask ourselves if we are being punished or somehow cursed. These thoughts can shake the foundations of our beliefs and leave us feeling lost and disheartened.
However, it is important to remember that our struggles do not define us.
God’s promises do. We are so much more than our illnesses. We are warriors, fighting battles that others cannot see. Each day we wake up and continue to fight, we display immense strength and resilience.
Though it may feel like we are walking a solitary path, it is important to know that we are not alone. There are others out there who understand our struggles, who have experienced similar pain, and who can offer support and empathy. It may take time to find them, but they are there, waiting to walk alongside us on this journey.
In our darkest moments, it can be helpful to lean on spiritual things, to seek understanding in prayer or worship. Connecting with the Holy Spirit can bring a sense of comfort and peace, even in the midst of our pain.
Remember, we are not alone in this.
We are surrounded by a community of individuals who have faced similar battles and who are rooting for our success. Our worth is not determined by our illnesses, but by the strength and resilience we show in the face of adversity. Let us continue to fight, knowing that there is hope and healing on the horizon.
But these things shouldn’t separate us from our Father’s love.
I believe He loves “his special needs” children even more. There’s a special intimacy that leads to gentleness and wisdom. He loves you enough to give you these wonderful gifts.
We believe that our transformation is happening, more and more, into the image of Christ. We are becoming like him (hence the word, Christlikeness). This is a long process, but it is happening! (Philippians 1:6). God has given his word. Don’t give up. It may take years, or maybe taking just a few moments.
I believe Jesus understands us perfectly. He is up to something quite wonderful.
“And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”
Philippians 1:3-6, NLT
It is my wish for you that you could walk in your own shoes, and not be somebody else. Also that you would know the grace of God intimately. Being disabled means special efforts will often be necessary, but Jesus’ love for your soul will be molded to fit that disability. There will be no wheelchairs or canes, or ‘seeing-eye dogs’ allowed in heaven. (Check out Rev. 21:3-4.)
I like to imagine that there will be a considerable pile outside the gates. Glory awaits.
“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”
“For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night.”
1 Thess. 5:5
This is my personal testimony of the grace of God.
A year before I received Christ as my Savior, I was hospitalized in a U.S. Army psychiatric ward. My uniform was replaced with the distinctive attire of a mental patient. Ironically, I’d been attached to the same hospital working on the pediatric floor.
And to make things only slightly more surreal was that a medic there on the psych ward was someone I bought drugs from!
Previous to this hospitalization, I had dropped two hits of LSD and found myself in an awful mess. It was night out and I was hallucinating badly. I had lost control of my thoughts. I had pretty much flipped out and it entered my drug-saturated brain that the darkness would kill me, that very night!
Utterly convinced I was going to die, my mind seized upon the street lights outside.
If I could stay in that illuminated circle I would escape dying. Somehow I knew that the light would save me. So I remained under that street light for several hours. As I stood I could see very clearly the boundary between the light and the dark. I knew I was safe as long as I didn’t wander, I knew I would stay safe.
But despite that very traumatic experience, the drugs and my mental instability continued to slide.
I was now shooting up cocaine, crossing my “no needle rule.” I also became quite the heavy drinker, with whiskey for breakfast. I had one basic rule though. As a medic who worked in maternal/child health, I had one of the best assignments in the Army. Many people coveted it, and I was not going to endanger it with drugs or alcohol.
I never went on duty loaded. That was my rule. I would be the best medic the Army ever had.
Shortly after my psych ward discharge, I was reassigned to Labor & Delivery on the night shift. One slow time I was pulled from my duty there to go on an ambulance run as the medic in charge. We were called to the officer’s housing where an older man had died in bed. This got me thinking. Back at the hospital, I returned to L&D. But on the way back I took a shortcut through a ward on another floor. That’s when I found it!
On a waiting room table was a small book called,“More Than a Carpenter” by Josh McDowell. I picked it up, reading it right on duty because there was no one in the delivery room. By the end of my shift, I was well on my way to becoming a Christian. It was a book solidly speaking of the light, and of the dark. And I knew beyond a doubt that I couldn’t remain in the dark anymore.
I was honorably discharged from the U.S. Army in June of 1982.
I became a born-again believer shortly after that. I went to Bible College that October. Life has become radically different, and over time, I became a missionary, pastor, and Bible college instructor.
I married my sweetheart and I now have a wonderful family. I attend a great and wonderful church faithfully.
I want to tell you that Jesus is real, He is alive and the Bible is true. I have been lifted from the dark and I am not afraid anymore. Jesus is my light.
“The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light. And for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow, a light has shined.”
Most people who meet me today would never guess the trauma I’ve been through. And when I was drowning the depths of major clinical depression, I couldn’t see it was that trauma that was the catalyst for my misery. I’m not sure I have it all figured out, even now, though it is clearer than it once was.
The thing about my story is that the trauma part is all too common. Rape and abortion are traumas that happen to far too many women (and sometimes men) in this broken world we live in. Healing sometimes feels impossible. But I am living proof that it is not.
Although I still struggle with depression at times, it is quite mild in comparison to what I endured for almost a decade in my late twenties and early thirties. I no longer feel like all hope is lost. In spite of my trauma, I am living and thriving in God’s grace.
I’d love to share my story with you in the hopes that it would be for you a light in the darkness you feel stuck in. I was blessed to be asked to tell my story on a podcast and you can listen to that podcast episode here: https://heartofthematterradio.libsyn.com/linda-kruschke-overcome-past-hurts-final. I do hope it blesses you to listen as much as it blessed me to be able to share. Thanks for reading. I love you.
” “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.””
John 8:7, ESV
“None knows the weight of another’s burden.”
-George Herbert
Definitely, we must discern motives and false doctrine. We’re to be constantly aware of people and issues that swirl around us–of this, there is no doubt, we mustn’t be ignorant. This is a healthy “discernment.”
But we must learn that having discernment isn’t a way that passes out a ‘guilty’ penalty? We are ‘seeing’ things these things–not to pass judgment, but that we might pray clearly and earnestly, and grow into His love for the weak.
But ‘passing a guilty sentence’ is His exclusive jurisdiction.
It’s far beyond our ‘pay grade.’ He is the final judge in everything. He judges justly and lovingly. He alone knows and understands everything very clearly.
It becomes imperative that we understand this; that any real discernment given is only to intensify and escalate the calling of every ‘saint,’ intercessor, or pastor. We discern, not to pass judgment, but to pray more clearly and effectively.
What you see or sense is for the prayer closet, not before a judge’s bench.
And yet how foolish we are. Do we really have the ability to ascribe a penalty to someone else? Could it be when we decide to throw rocks at certain people we’re in terrible danger of forfeiting our own salvation? “But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matt. 6:15.)
(If you have a ‘rock’ in your hand, you are in considerable danger. Please consider this–it’s never easy, is it?)
“Don’t judge others, or you will be judged. 2 You will be judged in the same way that you judge others, and the amount you give to others will be given to you.
“Why do you notice the little piece of dust in your friend’s eye, but you don’t notice the big piece of wood in your own eye?
Matthew 7:1-3
We are broken people. We struggle with many different things. Some of us are mentally or physically ill. We are not whole yet. Some of us must take meds to help us be ‘normal.’ We deal with issues that would devastate someone else. And we don’t have it anywhere near together.
And yet out of our ‘hot mess,’ do we think we can penalize someone else? Really?
We really don’t have a problem with worldly people. We understand that they are lost in their sins, terribly wrapped up in their own personal darkness, and that should definitely disturb us. We must point to the Blood of Christ that forgives us. We share the good news of true repentance and faith. His Spirit teaches us to be witnesses of His love to everyone we meet.
“The life of faith is a struggle enough in a broken world without us complicating it for other believers.”
–Jake Colsen
It just may come as a shock to some, but it’s extremely difficult to throw stones at someone when we are busy “washing” their feet.
Granted, “we are to be wise as serpents,” But that same verse instructs us “to be as harmless as doves.” (Matt. 10:16.) A loving meekness and gentleness, need to be combined with intense spiritual power. We must embody “the fruits of the Spirit.” These things are the characteristics of the Spirit-saturated believer.
“The nature and end of judgment or sentence must be corrective, never vindictive; it is always for healing, and never for destruction.”
–John Owen
Perhaps when we judge others, we reveal that we don’t understand what ‘real’ discipleship with Jesus is? Somehow it seems, we really aren’t quite grasping the immensity of His grace on guilty people? Do we really understand His profound love for the fallen? “God so loved the World…” Have we had any idea how patient He is with us? Do we doubt His ability to correct others? (Again, these are awfully hard questions.)
“Judge not lest you be judged.” (Jesus’ words really do scare me sometimes. )
Certainly, I intend to confront the darkness. “You are the light, a city set on a hill!” I am His salt and light and I do shine into this black night. But that is His doing, not mine. I do not generate light on my own. The Bible declares me as ‘self-righteous’ when I try. I am a broken person, who is just starting to understand the scope of my own brokenness and weaknesses. I’m starting to realize I’m not in the position to Judge someone else. I’m not quite healed myself yet and I must not think I can point to someone else as being worse than me.
Quite simply, I can’t throw ‘rocks’ at other believers anymore. I can no longer pass out any condemnation from my own limited understanding. My chief concern right now is to be a humble, earnest Christian who is always ready to forgive those who, in their awful sin and confusion, are hurting others.
I’m beginning to see that my calling is to be; a simple servant to my brothers and sisters, nothing more, and nothing less.
“When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something’s suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful.”
~Barbara Bloom
Just a short word of encouragement to all my suffering brothers and sisters.
I believe God loves you (it’s not a cliche) and has a tremendous plan for you. Scripture tells us that we will reign with Him (and the last time I looked, there is no disqualification for being mentally or physically ill).
Having suffered through your whole life will be just an enhancement, a bonus when you finally are held by Jesus, and you can rest in His arms.
Those of us who struggle with depression, mania, and paranoia know a lot about cracks and brokenness. Mixed states, anxiety, and social withdrawal all have taken their toll. Some of us hear voices. Addictions and suicide attempts have made up our past life (and even sometimes try to intrude on the present.)
Some of us have physical disabilities. We come to worship from our wheelchairs and walkers. Some of us are deaf, and others are blind. But we come still. Our hope is in the coming King who promises us a new and fully redeemed Kingdom. There will be no more pain.
I once had a dear friend with advancing Alzheimers She understands little of what is happening to her, but she still worshiped God with the rest of the congregation. Before dementia, she was a dynamic spiritual marvel. Without a doubt one of the astonishing women I had ever met.
Now however, when she raises her hands, I believe the angels step back in a deep awe.
I just realized this–the angels understand worship, they really do. Praise seems to be their specialty. Each angel that surrounds the throne has a PhD in “worshipology.”
But you know what? The angels really don’t understand our worship out of our pain, weakness, and brokenness. Since they have never experienced it, I don’t think they understand.
Let’s worship God with our cracks and brokenness. In John 12:1-7, a woman breaks open a jar of nard on Jesus’ feet, while the other disciples hang back and complain.
But always remember this dear one–it’s only by brokenness and then being poured out that one can release the perfume.
St. Francis of Assisi once wrote, “The devil never rejoices more than when he robs a servant of God of the peace of God.”
Sometimes I think maybe I’ve made the devil dance far too many times.
I confess that peace has never been really high on my list. Love, joy, kindness, and even goodness are clear priorities. Peace… not so much. Until it’s not there. And then I get frantic by its absence and look for it with manic bewilderment.
Sometimes I don’t understand why God still loves me. At times like this anxiety eats at me. I beat myself up by my last failure. The guilt of my latest sin grows until it looms larger than the blood that saved me. Sometimes I suppose, religious people have the most neurosis.
I’m afraid that we are taking “the present tense’ out of the Gospel. The past tense is far preferable to us as we manage the Christian life. We like to make check marks on our list. Repentance– check. Baptism– check. Bible study– check. I think it gives me a definite feeling of ‘maturity.’
But these matter little without intimacy with Jesus.
I certainly haven’t arrived, and it seems at times I’m still the hideous sinner I always was. I cannot pretend otherwise, even with a truckload of cosmetics at my disposal. I know, I’ve tried. And I’m still ‘ugly.’ I do know forgiveness, and I do walk in its wonderful light (by grace.)
I read Luther 30 years ago. (And Bonhoeffer would say something similar.)
“When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”
Martin Luther
This is the first of his 95 Theses nailed to the door of Wittenburg. There is a present tense here we can’t ignore. I don’t just repent over smoking, beer drinking, fornication, or hypocrisy, once and done. But my entire way of living is to be one of repenting.
Repentance is your key to open up the door of grace.
“All of the Christian life is repentance. Turning from sin and trusting in the good news that Jesus saves sinners aren’t merely a one-time inaugural experience but the daily substance of Christianity. The gospel is for every day and every moment. Repentance is to be the Christian’s continual posture.”
John Piper
Luther’s last words, on his deathbed, was found written on a scrap of paper words, “We are beggars! This is true.” Thirty years before, he was only echoing his first thesis.
It seems dear ones, we are to live at the foot of the cross.
How do you handle pain as a believer? What do you do when you want to curl up in a ball and want to die? Understand that pain isn’t in God’s original plan. We who are hurt have got to be very much aware of this.
There are many different kinds of pain: post-surgical and chronic. The pain of separation or divorce or misguided children. There’s the pain of misunderstanding or something self inflicted. Loneliness, sickness. Too much.
There are far too many possibilities and too much hurt.
At times you can’t even imagine how you’re going to handle another day. Sometimes the doctors have the arrogance to tell you that you need to get used to it because it’s never going to get better. So now you must sort things out–outside a miracle, it’s only going to get worse. I understand this. Truly.
Here are ten thoughts that come to my mind. They’re not in any order, so please, don’t look for one.
One
Treat false humility as a worse disease than you’re facing physically. You’ll be very tempted to milk your pain for all its worth. You’ll try to take advantage of others, and you’ll put yourself in the best possible light. But pain and ego were never meant to mix–especially as a disciple of Jesus. Renounce it now. Turn from it constantly.
Two
Never find fault with God. He’s not to blame whatever the evil one tells you. Our Father loves you deeply, and He will carry you all the way through this. Satan always tells lies. You must take a stand against him. Put on your armor! Super-glue Ephesians 6:19-18 into your thought life–and never let go!
Three
You can never lose track of a very real eternity. My special verse is Revelation 21:4, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” Please keep this front and center. It’ll help a lot!
Four
You’ll start to learn to see others differently. There’ll always be another who has it worse. Think about them, and all that they must deal with. It helps a lot. Also, you’ll discover that your pain will be like new glasses for a strange source of spiritual astigmatism. You’ll see things far more clearly now.
Five
Your walk will deepen. You’ll learn to be joyful when all you want to do is cry. The littlest things become a cause of great joy. God values your singing more now, especially when you’re singing out of excruciating pain. The Word, and worship music, all seem to be more meaningful. Surround yourself with music (and preaching too), anything that builds you up inside.
Six
You’ll discover the art of weaving your pain into your discipleship. Sleepless nights become diving boards for prayer, reading, and worship. You’ll change and deepen, and that’s always good. Also, be open to new ways of ministry. Look for doors to open up. They may be different than you think.
Seven
You’ll discover that there can be solace in medications and treatment. I know that this, but sometimes a handful of Motrin or other pain meds will be a real relief. Also, listen closely to your doctor and therapist. Pray for them, pray they’ll have special wisdom for your situation.
Eight
You start to see that you’ll never be able to do this alone. God is giving you a gift. He will give you insight. You’ll also start to see people less in terms of ‘rank’ and more in the light of what they’ve had to suffer. As you begin to see pain and sorrow as odd friends, they’ll often show you who your true brothers and sisters are.
Nine
You’ll understand the Father’s love in a new way. Like an old-style pharmacist who measured out powder instead of pills, we find God measures out exactly what we need. He never gives you a single grain of medicine more than is necessary. Trust him. All that happens to you has come through nail-pierced hands. He understands pain. He understands you.
Ten
You must learn to laugh again. Little things become a source of real joy. The smallest things will make you laugh. Get a joke book, that may help, especially when you get sour and withdrawn. “A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom will leave you bone-tired” (Pro. 17:22, MSG).
(This list is not complete. I apologize, there are many others that really should be added, but maybe this is a start.)
Also–just one more (number 11 maybe?) But be easy on yourself. You’ll find that you’ve much to learn. And that’s ok. Just open up your heart, and look to Jesus.
We must be aware that our pain allows us access to His careful grace. Our trials, properly received, endow us with special abilities.
They’re now our new ‘superpowers.’
You should learn to embrace your pain and your sorrows, and not many can do this. Our own suffering comes to us at too high of a cost to us. They’re precious and way too valuable to neglect. Squeeze them and extract all that they can give.
Here’s a quote that has always sustained me. It’s really good to remember–
“Some Christians are called to endure a disproportionate amount of suffering. Such Christians are a spectacle of grace to the church, like flaming bushes unconsumed, and cause us to ask, like Moses:
“‘Why is this bush not burned up?'”
–John Newton
A good site is Joni Eareckson Tada. She’s a believer who has suffered a great deal and has a ministry to the afflicted, Joniandfriends.org.
Also, brokenbelievers.com has an older teaching post that may help, check it out if you want to go deeper into this–“Suffering Intelligently.
I have another site you might want to checkout: alaskabibleteacher.com.
The issues we face can be formidable. Our relationships and our circumstances can bring daunting obstacles to joyful Christlike living. We live out at times from unpleasant realities and less than ideal situations. We are broken believers who follow Jesus through our deadly minefields.
Struggling with mental illness is just as much a challenge as with any other handicap. The young man struggling with bipolar disorder or someone else who faces a clinical depression, may seem to be tangled up in something quite brutal and very hopeless. “Will I ever find normal again?“
I know that struggle and at times it has ripped me apart. But I suppose the grinding hopelessness is the worst part of that.
I want to encourage you in this. The issues we face on a daily basis are hard. And we don’t minimize their complexity or diminish their bitterness. They can be awful. But the Holy Spirit is with you in the midst of your issues. That’s a promise.
There is a wisdom emanating from the fire. It’s only waiting for discovery. The flames can not destroy us when God shows up.
I believe that the constant presence of difficulty produces a faith and tenderness that can’t be just prayed for.
The most kind and gentle people are those who themselves have been afflicted.
Please understand we have a real challenge. We have to walk through the trials or tests, not around them. We see a mountain, and God gives us a shovel. But He also gives us the strength we need.
But I’ve discovered a tenuous joy in these issues— more precisely, a joy because of them. Our illness is not meant to destroy us. That is not why God has allowed you to be afflicted.
I definitely did not choose this path I’m on.
Think about Jesus’ great love for people with hard issues:
“In that hour he healed many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight.”
Luke 7:21
Jesus has special spot for the afflicted, we see him repeated touching them. He drew them like a magnet draws iron. And he is the same today in our time. It is comforting to know that he cares for us and that we are understood. Let him draw you into his caring presence.
Our disabilities do not trouble him. Yes, I know the issues are formidable. But your obedience in them is an exquisitely special commodity to Jesus. I believe He values the shaking faith of broken people far more than the happy shiny people with no pain or scars.
Faith is precious in his sight and holds its value for all eternity.
Understanding this should be a cause for joy for the broken believer. Having the lightness of heart, right in the middle of our disability, often transforms these issues into a lighter burden. “We are beaten but not totaled. Incredibly challenged but not completely devastated.“ The apostle wrote this in his letter to the Corinthians, and it gives us hope.
I have learned that if I can bless a difficult thing it will bless me.
If we curse it and it will curse us. If you bless a situation, it has no power to hurt you, and even if it is troublesome for a time, it will gradually fade out, but only you can only sincerely bless it.
There’s a deep joy waiting for those who choose to do this.
This post was inspired by a flare-up of my fibromyalgia. One of my fellow bloggers who has bipolar commented that the pain of bipolar is also a form of invisible pain. It occurred to me then that this is a perfect post for the encouragement of broken believers, many of whom struggle with some form of invisible pain, whether physical or mental pain.
I didn’t want to write about fibromyalgia, but then I realized that sharing my struggles with this syndrome might help someone who also struggles with invisible pain.
When someone breaks a leg, suffers a severe burn, or is covered with cuts and bruises it is easy for people to see what is wrong and to sympathize. But the pain of fibromyalgia is invisible pain. From the outside, the person suffering from the pain of fibromyalgia looks just fine, and so people don’t understand what they are going through.
It is also an unpredictable pain with no easily determinable cause or trigger.
One day you feel just fine and you wake up the next day feeling like you got run over by a freight train. I’ve gone for months feeling fine, with very little pain, then suddenly every muscle in my body aches, and certain movements cause sharp pains in my legs, arms, and neck.
I try to figure out why.
I’ve had doctors give me conflicting theories of what causes this pain, and I have read conflicting theories as well. One doctor told me it is a chemical imbalance in the brain. Another has told me it is caused by what I eat, by an inability of my muscles to process sugar that results in toxins in my muscles.
Another suggested it is a symptom of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that stems from some early trauma. I had also read that there was a strong link between fibromyalgia and Epstein Bar Virus (or mononucleosis), which I had when I was in junior high. Finally, I have read that it is simply hereditary.
The pain of fibromyalgia is truly invisible.
There is no medical test that shows whether someone has fibromyalgia. There is a “tender point” test in which the doctor checks 18 designated tender points on the body and if 11 or more are tender to the touch a diagnosis of fibromyalgia can be made. But even that test is somewhat subjective.
All my life I have felt pain in circumstances where someone else thought I shouldn’t have felt pain. I can remember saying something hurt when I was a kid only to be told, “That didn’t hurt.” This summer I experienced pain from something that didn’t seem like it should hurt.
I was at my cousin’s house in Houston and his granddaughter was playing with three pine cones. She kept handing them to me to play with, but the sharp points started to really hurt my hands. I said I didn’t want to play anymore because it made my hands hurt. My sister looked at me and asked, “Does that really hurt?”
Invisible pain. It’s extremely difficult to cope with sometimes.
But I know that Jesus knows how I feel, and that gives me a great deal of comfort. Although the pain Jesus experienced when He was scourged, beaten, and crucified was quite visible, He experienced an invisible pain, too. He experienced the pain of having the sin of the world laid upon Him and of His Father turning away as He cried out:
“My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?”
Matthew 27:46 (NIV).
If you struggle under the weight of invisible pain, take heart that you are not alone. Christ understands your suffering and your pain. You also have fellow Christians who understand what you are going through. The apostle Peter provided for us who suffer a wonderful encouragement in his first epistle:
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.
1 Peter 5:6-11 (NIV).
Satan would love to devour us in our pain.
He wants to make us fall and cease to be of use in God’s kingdom. But if we cling to Jesus, and cast all of our fears and anxiety on Him, He will help us to defeat Satan’s plans.
If you are struggling with invisible pain and feeling like you are at your wit’s end, leave me a comment and I would love to pray for you. It would be a blessing to me to be able to ask our Lord to strengthen you and give you peace and comfort so that you might be enabled to stand firm in your faith. Would you do the same for me?
Broken Believers 