Losing Everything You Have

My own studies have immersed me in the awful book of Job. This man lost everything–there is much we can learn from him. But it may be a definite challenge to plow through these “dark” issues. But we need to do this, sooner or later.

First of all, Job is a mysterious book. There’s no reference to the Temple or the Temple services. No connection with other biblical writings or persons. Most students believe that the book of Job is the first one written in the Old Testament.

It’s not Jewish, but it’s not pagan either.

In a real sense, it speaks about suffering and pain. Job lost everything. And yet this book tries to explain what broken believers face every day. We all struggle. We all will experience some sort of suffering and loss.

Job connects us with those with illnesses–mental or physical.

We are people who must try to navigate through dark things. Most will never really understand this, but we are those who must face adversity and conflict. Like Job we start to ask why. We may even end up accusing God of attacking us.

We have to sort things out and believe me, it’s never easy. As we try we’ll often ask “why me?” We often accuse God. But I’m thoroughly convinced that the Almighty isn’t fazed by our questions and we should never think we’re wrong when we so challenge his goodness. He’s big enough to handle these.

In Job we’ll learn to hear God speak to us through “the whirlwind.”

I want to encourage you (the reader) to find place in your heart for this book. Job isn’t easy to read–but I’ve gained a lot by reading it in a modern translation, but anything works. Just pick it up and read. Chapters 1-3 are good.

We’ll realize all of our questions will probably not be answered, but that’s okay. The problem of our suffering will most likely remain. There are no pat answers. I’m sorry.

“Anyone who has suffered knows that there is no such thing as ‘getting a grip on oneself’ or ‘pulling oneself up by the bootstraps.’ The only bootstrap in the Christian life is the Cross, sometimes laying hold of the cross can be comforting, but other times it is like picking up a snake.””

Mike Mason

God Keeps Your Tears in a Bottle

by Linda L. Kruschke

I have cried many tears in my life.

If you have never cried, you can stop reading right now. But if you have shed tears for yourself or for others, or if like me you have shed some without even knowing why or where they came from, take heart. God knows the tears you have shed. Psalm 56:8 says so. Here are several translations of that wonderful verse:

Record my lament;
       list my tears on your scroll —
       are they not in your record? (NIV)

You have taken account of my wanderings;
         Put my tears in Your bottle
         Are they not in Your book? (NASB)

You keep track of all my sorrows.
      You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
      You have recorded each one in your book. (NLT)

Write down my poem of sadness.
      List my tears on your scroll.
      Aren’t you making a record of them? (NIRV)

I love the image of God keeping all my tears in a bottle. I can envision shelves filled with bottles in Heaven, each with a name on it, and an accompanying scroll documenting every tear and lament. Or maybe it is just one huge bottle with all of our tears mingled together.

Today tears are being shed in dark rooms where children are being held as sex slaves, in Africa as people remain homeless and without food and water, in the United States as many remain jobless, in hospitals and on the streets where the mentally ill are forgotten, in homes around the world where people are spiritually lost and have no hope.

We live in a fallen and painful world.

Tragedies happen and humans are not always kind to one another. And so tears are shed. It is hard to fathom God collecting every single one, but He does. He notices and He records each tear and each lament.

The more I think about it, I like the idea that God has mingled all our tears together. The Psalm does refer to God’s “bottle” in the singular. And if He has collected every tear in that bottle, then mingled with our own are the tears of Jesus. In John 11, the apostle records this event: “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35.)

In this passage, Jesus weeps when He learns of the death of Lazarus.

When they see Him weeping, the people say “See how he loved him!” John 11:36. But I don’t think Jesus was weeping because Lazarus was dead – He knew He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. Rather, I think He wept because of the compassion He felt for humanity as we weep over our own tragedies and losses. It is us that He loved so much that it brought Him to tears.

So if you weep today, remember that God is collecting your tears in His bottle, and mixing them with the tears of our dear Savior. Not only that, but God will deliver you from the final trial that lead to tears by redeeming your soul.

Psalm 116:8-9 (NIV).

Linda’s blog is at anotherfearlessyear.net  Please check out all she has to say and listen to her heart.
You may copy and use or distribute this post freely in its entirety please.
We’re a member.

p

A Believer in Pain

by Joni Eareckson Tada

My chronic pain makes my quadriplegia feel like a walk in the park.

People often ask how I manage my pain. Well, when its fangs sink deep into my hips and back, that’s my signal. I begin deep breathing, slow and steady. And when fiery pain threatens to overtake me—just as the flames threatened to consume Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in that fiery furnace found in the book of Daniel—I have a conversation with it.

I don’t say, “I can’t stand this; it’s killing me,” because words like that are fraught with anxiety. Fear only makes things worse. Instead, I calmly ask Jesus to meet me in my pain, to not let it crush me. And the Son of God never fails to meet me, just as he met those three Hebrews in that hot furnace of fire.

And what does Jesus say to me in that agonizing place of pain?

He comforts me with his own words. He will say something like, “Joni, my Spirit inspired 2 Corinthians 4:8 for a good reason. For although you are ‘hard pressed on every side,’ you will not be crushed.”

Oh, what a promise! Pain may tighten its vice grip, but it cannot crush me. As I cling to God’s promises, my pain pushes me further into Jesus’s heart. There is nothing sweeter than finding my Savior in the middle of my hellish circumstances. It helps deflect the pain and helps me to suffer well. Jesus helps me be in that unhappy place well.

All the years I’ve lived in my wheelchair, I never got delivered from pain. But I met my Deliverer in it. I didn’t get healed, but I found intimate fellowship with the Healer.

Friend, pain does not have to crush you.

As you courageously look at the stern countenance of pain and enter unafraid into its recesses, you will defang it of its terror. You’ll see that the Lord is in your pain, having transfigured it to become a place of union with him. Jesus conquered the insidious ways of pain and because of that, he is your best prescription for pain—whether it’s in your hip, your head, or your heart.

And remember, there is a glorious day coming when it says, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4). Until then, when pain encroaches, start deep breathing and cling to a Bible promise. There are thousands to hold onto.

Perhaps my favorite is this one uttered by almighty God to you and me, promising, “I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isaiah 46:4b).

And he will. He promised.

Joni Eareckson Tada

Messed Up People

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. And there were others.

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.

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 understand this. I hope it doesn’t take long.

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.

David paid an awful price for his sin. That disobedience almost destroyed him. Not only did it separate him from God, but his family felt the effects of his evil actions.

Yes, you need to repent. But when sin is destroying you, it does seem you need to turn from it, and leave it now.

The first two verses of Psalm 51 can bring tears when we finally understand their profound beauty, for they came out of David’s personal evil:

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.”

2 Corinthians 4:7