YET I WILL REJOICE IN THE LORD

Brianna Lambert 

My kids know our safety rules. We hold hands while walking, stay close to the shopping cart, and lock our doors when we leave the house.

They know them, but they don’t understand the real reasons we have them. Stories of sex slaves, mass shootings, and home invasions are ones they don’t hear. Not yet.

But I do.

I know a world awaits them in which men and women might use their power to assault them and take their innocence. A world where murders sometimes go unpunished and justice isn’t guaranteed. Where others rejoice and mock the death of infants, children are mutilated to the applause of adults, and leaders are clothed in hypocrisy.

I see this world now, and I’m tired. The stories seem relentless. Some days evil seems too strong.

Lord, where are you?

Buried in the Old Testament is the tiny little book of Habakkuk, which has more to say to us than we might expect. The book’s three short chapters speak of hardship, but they also tell of hope. Habakkuk was written during a time of great disobedience in Israel. King Jehoikim, who reigned in Judah, followed his disobedient fathers and “did evil in the sight of the Lord” (2 Kings 23:37). Destruction and violence prevailed among God’s people (Hab. 1:3), justice did not exist (Hab. 1:4), and the wicked ruled over the righteous.

The small book contains a conversation between God and the prophet. In this conversation, we see four distinct reminders for those who live in a world where evil reigns.

REMEMBER TO PRAY

One of the first reminders from the prophet Habakkuk is the reminder to pray. Sometimes we find ourselves believing we shouldn’t question God. Perhaps our doubts or our grievous laments will show a lack of faith. We might strive hard to keep it together.

Yet Habakkuk opens with a phrase resembling a complaint to God. A worn-out man pleads with the Lord and asks, “Why do you idly look at wrong?” (Hab. 1:3). Even after receiving God’s answer, Habakkuk again cries, “Why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he?” (Hab. 1:13).

While it’s absurd to complain in arrogance to the Lord, cries of lament and sorrow are justified even for the righteous. We see proof of these grief-filled prayers throughout the Bible. Look to the psalmists, like David, Job, and Jeremiah. When Job wrestled with questions of God’s sovereignty, he didn’t wrestle out of unbelief but because he did believe in the God of his Fathers. He knew who God was and what he was capable of, so in faith, he cried out.

When the weight of evil presses in on us, we cannot be afraid to speak to our Father. Especially when we don’t understand what he is doing. He won’t shrink back, and his Spirit will not be defeated by sincere laments.

Talk to him, plead with him, mourn before him. Let’s join David as he proclaimed, “In my distress I called upon the Lord,” for when we do, our cry will always reach his ears (Ps. 18:6).

REMEMBER GOD IS WORKING

We find in God’s response to Habakkuk another truth to remember: God is already working. In verse 5, God tells the prophet, “Look among the nations, and see; wonder and be astounded. For I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe if told.”

We can get so discouraged by the evil around us. We dwell on the hypocrisy, the greed, the sin, and forget to turn our eyes to the ways God is redeeming and making creation new. But he is working. Despite the sorrows we see, he is sanctifying and working his redemption in churches across the globe—in communities, in families, and in the hearts of individuals. In his second coming, Christ will make all things new. But the first time Jesus came, John the Baptist proclaimed that the kingdom was already at hand (Matt. 4:17). This kingdom is going forth in our churches right now, and his church will not be struck down (Matt. 16:18).

This thought offers much encouragement, but it also comes with a warning. The work God is speaking of in Habakkuk is not of revival or blessings for Israel. He speaks of raising up Babylon to completely ransack the Israelites in judgment. We must be sure to remember God is working throughout his kingdom and his people, yet sometimes the immediate means he chooses to work through may not be what we expect or hope for (Isa. 55:8–9).

REMEMBER WHO GOD IS

Habakkuk has now heard that God plans to bring judgment on Israel by giving even more power to a vile and evil nation, the Chaldeans (Babylon). Yet God reminds him that all evil will soon be punished. Following this promise, Habakkuk offers a final prayer in which he remembers who God is:

O Lord, I have heard the report of you,
    and your work, O Lord, do I fear.
In the midst of the years revive it;
    in the midst of the years make it known;
    in wrath remember mercy.
God came from Teman,
    and the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah
His splendor covered the heavens,
    and the earth was full of his praise.
His brightness was like the light;
    rays flashed from his hand;
    and there he veiled his power.

. . . You went out for the salvation of your people,
    for the salvation of your anointed.
You crushed the head of the house of the wicked,
    laying him bare from thigh to neck. Selah (Hab. 3:2–4, 13)

Habakkuk describes God’s character and his historic acts of redemption for the people of Israel. It’s here the prophet shifts his focus from anger and lament to praise and assurance.

We too need this reminder. Though our circumstances are uncertain, we know the character of our God is certain. His mercy, love, goodness, and yes, even his justice, are unchanging. And we rest in that steadfast character (Mal. 3:6).

REMEMBER TO WAIT FAITHFULLY

Finally, we through the pages of Habakkuk remember to wait for the promises that will be fulfilled. God reminds Habakkuk that punishment will eventually come for Babylon as well. “If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come” (Hab. 2:3). All the rebellious, whether in Israel or Babylon, will be dealt with. But “the righteous shall live by his faith” (Hab. 2:4).

When it comes down to it, we’re all waiting. The kingdom has come with Christ’s life and death, but we still wait for it to be fully realized. Our King will come back and put all his enemies under his feet (1 Cor. 15:25). But for now, we wait in a fallen world. We wait and must live through the consequences of others’ sin and our own. Yet we wait with hope, united with Christ, who will return to rule his kingdom, in fulfillment of his promise.

We live by faith for this fulfillment, and as we do, we speak, plead, and pray to our Lord. We allow God to use us in his kingdom now; in our families, our churches, and our communities. For as dark as it seems, we can rest knowing that the light will always overcome it (John 1:5). As we remember the great deeds of the Lord in our dark times, we can echo Habakkuk’s final words:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food…
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
The Lord is my strength.
He makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places. (Hab. 3:17–19)

Brianna Lambert is a wife and mom to three, making their home in the cornfields of Indiana. She loves using writing to work out the truths God is teaching her each day. She is a staff writer with GCD and has contributed to various online publications, such as Morning by Morning and Fathom magazine. You can find more of her writing paired with her husband’s photography at lookingtotheharvest.com.

Posted at: https://gcdiscipleship.com/article-feed/2020/2/26/yet-i-will-rejoice-in-the-lord

FINDING YOUR WAY THROUGH GRIEF

Cynthia Mathai 

Disappointment, hurt, and confusion weren’t new for me. But in this season of grief, I had to face the fact that two people I had trusted and submitted to as authority figures had been living deceptively for years.

This reality created a cavern of pain so deep that at times I felt it might swallow me whole. In a new way, I found myself wondering how I would walk well through grief, acknowledging the hurt and pain, not stuffing my feelings or painting a thick coat of pretense with well-worn “Christianese” phrases.

Almost eighteen months ago, I experienced grief in this way, and it changed me. Now I’m quieter. I’m weaker in some ways and stronger in others. I’m more focused. I long for Christ’s return more acutely and feel more sober about the wiles of the enemy and the weakness of my human will.

I didn’t get everything right, but I did learn some lessons about navigating grief that might serve you in your journey.

SOME WAYS TO NAVIGATE GRIEF

Running. For several months, I went running after work on nearby mountain trails. Each stride was fueled by confusion, pain, deep anger, fear, and tiny slivers of hope that at last deception was uncovered and there was an opportunity for truth and redemption.

Reading. I kept my bible as close to my bed as possible so that as my eyes slowly opened to greet the day and grief sat heavy on my chest each morning, I could reach for God’s Word and ask him to speak to me. Over the course of my walk with Jesus, whenever I have felt the ache of relational brokenness, God has often reminded me that he alone remains unchanging and faithful. So, I reached often for the Psalms and for quite some time read them while feeling numb or crying.

“I kept my bible as close to my bed as possible so that as my eyes slowly opened to greet the day and grief sat heavy on my chest each morning, I could reach for God’s Word and ask him to speak to me.

Slowing. I asked God for wisdom, as James says believers are to do when facing trials on how to navigate the pain (Jas. 1: 5–8). I heard the Spirit say words I despised at first: “Slow down.” I knew instinctively what God meant by those words. My pace in life has always been a point of struggle for me. Fueled by both good desires and a false sense of identity, I have always done “extra.” It became clear to me that this would be a season of scaling back. I started setting aside blocks of times during my week to write, to do nothing, to sit in the proverbial ashes and pray, instead of filling my days and nights with activities to distract myself from the discomfort of betrayal. I hated doing this at first. But eighteen months later—still practicing some of those margin-setting activities—I see God’s profound goodness and infinite wisdom in slowing down (Nah. 1:7; Job 12:13).

Questioning. I spent a lot of time receiving counsel from wise friends, pastors, mentors, and my mom. I had questions like, How do you forgive without immediately trusting? How do you process without gossiping? How do you grasp the truth of God’s sovereignty and human will in the paradoxical way in which it presents in Scripture and is worked out in the world? How do you face the reality that you have been bamboozled and yet cannot punish every other person in your life for the sins of others? I brought all of these questions to those I’ve chosen to trust and who have invested in over the years. Some questions didn’t have clear-cut answers. Some were painful to swallow at the moment and required ongoing conversations.

Writing. I wrote and wrote and wrote some more. The pen is often the extension of my heart. When I don’t quite know how to articulate my feelings, I reach for a pen, and as pen touches paper, it’s as though the strings of my heart are loosened, and with great ferocity, my feelings come bursting forth. Writing gave me release.

Counseling. I went to counseling, or rather, I went back to counseling. Deception by a pastor and a friend can bring up a lot from past pain and create new fears about future relationships. I knew that on my own I didn’t have what it took to make heads or tails of the present circumstances. I needed help to face things head-on and to dig deeper into truth for the road ahead, all while rambling my way through the messiness of my thoughts and feelings.

THE BLESSINGS OF GRIEF

People say that they wouldn’t trade the pain for the gain of walking through tragedy or loss and coming out on the other side. I would say the same.

The moniker for my Savior, the “man of sorrows” (Isa. 53:3), has over time become one of the most comforting realities of being one of his disciples. The “man of sorrows” sits with me in the depth of my pain; the place where sobs communicate more clearly than words. He counsels me in the midst of grief of all forms, fills me with courage to keep taking one small step after another; he asks me to forgive those who have trespassed against me, and he empowers me to obey his commands because he has forgiven my trespasses against him (Matt. 6:12; 1 Jn. 5:2–3).

“I would not trade the assurance I have that I can ask God to help me with minuscule things and he cares, and he helps.

I would not trade how much better I know Jesus. I would not trade the friendships I gained because of weeping publicly and needing to be comforted by those in my church community. Throughout the process of reckoning with hard truths as a congregation, I continued to grapple what the apostle Paul meant when he stated that God will not be mocked, for we reap what we sow (Gal. 6:7–8).

I would not trade the times I found myself weeping at how much joy I had knowing God was caring for me in my grief. I would not trade the slowing down of my life in ways I could only have dreamt of before, and in so doing, learn that my value is not in the sum of my productivity. I would not trade the assurance I have that I can ask God to help me with minuscule things and he cares, and he helps.

THE WAY FORWARD

I still have nights when the losses feel acute. I weep at what has been lost. I weep at seeing people wrestle with trust as a result of the failure of those in spiritual authority. I get angry that anyone must suffer the consequences of another’s selfishness. Each of us is capable of great evil and only by God’s great mercy do we love and seek forgiveness when we have fallen short.

In all this grieving, the progress made along the way, and the new way of being, it has become clear that whether we verbalize it or not, all of us are crying out for salvation. We are all breathless for new patterns of thinking, of relating, of being; breathless for a new world order and a permanently good authority.

My way through the spikes of sorrow—which still arise—is knowing the living hope of Jesus. Where people have failed and will continue to fail, Jesus proves to be a constant. He is present with his people now as he will be for all eternity, and his character can be fully trusted. One day, in a world made new, with God’s kingdom fully consummated, there will be no more grief to navigate (Rev. 21:4).

Cynthia Mathai (M.A., Ministry & Leadership) is a disciple of Jesus who lives in Portland, Oregon. She is a Higher Educational professional who also teaches God’s Word at women’s retreats/ conferences and enjoys writing. She has served on staff with Verity Fellowship (now The Gospel Coalition’s Women’s Training Network). She worships with the saints at Trinity Church of Portland. Follow Cynthia on Twitter.

Posted at: https://gcdiscipleship.com/article-feed/2020/3/4/finding-your-way-through-grief

The Glory of Jesus Displayed in Us

Davis Wetherell

I have been reading through the Gospel of John, and I have been reflecting on two stories that particularly highlight the glory of Jesus. And I’d like to share them with you also.

Story #1: Jesus Heals a Man Born Blind

This story is recorded in John 9. You may recognize the conversation between Jesus and His disciples as they saw a blind man:

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered. “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:2-3)

Jesus then goes on to heal the man by anointing his eyes with mud and telling him to go wash in the pool of Siloam. He does this is able to see again!

This causes quite the scene for people who knew him. Everyone knew he was blind, and now they are trying to account for how he has come to see again. The Pharisees catch wind of this going on, and so they go to question him. The once-blind man told them Jesus healed him, but they don’t believe it.

The Pharisees don’t even believe that he was ever blind! So they go to the man’s parents’ house, and his parents do confirm that the man was born blind (John 9:18-23).

The Pharisees simply do not believe and question the man again. They say, “We know that this man [Jesus] is a sinner.” And the blind man responded, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” And the man continued on to testify to the Pharisees, saying:

“If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” (John 9:33)

Story #2: Jesus Raises Lazarus from the Dead

We all may know that story of Jesus’s friend Lazarus. Lazarus died, and Jesus resurrected him from the dead. Clearly, we can already see some of the similar theological implications between being changed from blind to seeing and being raised from death to life.

But what struck me in my reading of the Gospel of John this time around was John 11:4. Now, Jesus had just been told that Lazarus was very ill. And Jesus responded:

“This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” (John 11:4)

Compare that to John 9:3! Both the blind man and Lazarus went through suffering so that God would be glorified.

More to the Story

Now, there’s more to the story. If we jump to John 12, we see that Jesus is with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus again, and Jesus and Lazarus are “reclining . . . at the table” (12:2). What a remarkable conversation they must have been having!

Remember what has happened up to this point: Lazarus gets ill, dies, and Jesus raises him from the dead in front of a large crowd. That large crowd, upon hearing that Jesus is back with Lazarus, is keen to see what will happen next. And they “continued to bear witness” about Jesus’s miracle (12:17).

The Pharisees are interested too because they still do not believe Jesus is the Messiah. They even sentence Lazarus to death because of his involvement with Jesus (John 12:10). Poor Lazarus!

When Jesus then arrives in Jerusalem the next day, a large crowd “took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, ‘Hosanna!'” (John 12:13). Why did they go there to meet him? Well, because they heard from all their friends and neighbors that Jesus rose Lazarus from the dead (12:18).

And the Pharisees could not stop people from praising Jesus’s name. They had to listen to it. They had to hear it. But they rejected him still, saying, “Look, the world has gone after him” (12:19).

You’ll Be Surprised at How God Uses Your Suffering

These stories show us that you never know how the sufferings in your life will work to glorify Jesus. If the blind man was never blind, then his friends and family would have never known the glory of Jesus Christ. If Lazarus had never died, the large crowd would not have shown up to begin what we now celebrate as Palm Sunday.

But these stories also show us that your sufferings may not touch the person you think is most likely to see the glory of Jesus. The Pharisees had read the Scriptures, they knew the signs to look for, it was their whole life to wait for the Messiah–and they rejected Him.

So, Christian, pray for others. Pray that God would use your trial, your suffering, to bring others to know His glory.

Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/02/glory-jesus-displayed-us/

Don’t Waste Your Cancer

Article by John Piper

I write this on the eve of prostate surgery. I believe in God’s power to heal — by miracle and by medicine. I believe it is right and good to pray for both kinds of healing. Cancer is not wasted when it is healed by God. He gets the glory, and that is why cancer exists. So, not to pray for healing may waste your cancer. But healing is not God’s plan for everyone. And there are many other ways to waste your cancer. I am praying for myself and for you that we will not waste this pain.

1. You will waste your cancer if you do not believe God designed it for you.

It will not do to say that God only uses our cancer, but does not design it. What God permits, he permits for a reason. And that reason is his design. If God foresees molecular developments becoming cancer, he can stop it or not. If he does not, he has a purpose. Since he is infinitely wise, it is right to call this purpose a design. Satan is real and causes many pleasures and pains. But he is not ultimate. So, when he strikes Job with boils (Job 2:7), Job attributes it ultimately to God (Job 2:10) — and the inspired writer agrees: “They . . . comforted him for all the evil that the Lord had brought upon him” (Job 42:11). If you don’t believe God designed your cancer for you, you will waste it.

2. You will waste your cancer if you believe it is a curse and not a gift.

“The aim of God in our cancer is to knock the props out from under our hearts so that we rely utterly on him.”

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us” (Galatians 3:13). “There is no enchantment against Jacob, no divination against Israel” (Numbers 23:23). “The Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11).

3. You will waste your cancer if you seek comfort from your odds rather than from God.

The design of God in your cancer is not to train you in the rationalistic, human calculation of odds. The world gets comfort from their odds. Not Christians. Some count their chariots (percentages of survival) and some count their horses (side effects of treatment), “but we trust in the name of the Lord our God” (Psalm 20:7).

God’s design is clear from 2 Corinthians 1:9: “We felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.” The aim of God in our cancer (among a thousand other good things) is to knock props out from under our hearts so that we rely utterly on him.

4. You will waste your cancer if you refuse to think about death.

We will all die, if Jesus postpones his return. Not to think about what it will be like to leave this life and meet God is folly. Ecclesiastes 7:2 says, “It is better to go to the house of mourning [a funeral] than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” How can you lay it to heart if you won’t think about it? Psalm 90:12 says, “Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Numbering your days means thinking about how few there are and that they will end. How will you get a heart of wisdom if you refuse to think about this? What a waste, if we do not think about death.

5. You will waste your cancer if you think that “beating” cancer means staying alive rather than cherishing Christ.

“Cancer does not win if you die. It wins if you fail to cherish Christ.”

Satan’s and God’s designs in your cancer are not the same. Satan designs to destroy your love for Christ. God designs to deepen your love for Christ. Cancer does not win if you die. It wins if you fail to cherish Christ. God’s design is to wean you off the breast of the world and feast you on the sufficiency of Christ. It is meant to help you say and feel, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” And to know therefore, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 3:8; 1:21).

6. You will waste your cancer if you spend too much time reading about cancer and not enough time reading about God.

It is not wrong to know about cancer. Ignorance is not a virtue. But the lure to know more and more and the lack of zeal to know God more and more is symptomatic of unbelief. Cancer is meant to waken us to the reality of God. It is meant to put feeling and force behind the command, “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord” (Hosea 6:3). It is meant to waken us to the truth of Daniel 11:32: “The people who know their God shall stand firm and take action.” It is meant to make unshakable, indestructible oak trees out of us: “His delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers” (Psalm 1:2–3). What a waste of cancer if we read day and night about cancer and not about God.

7. You will waste your cancer if you let it drive you into solitude instead of deepen your relationships with manifest affection.

When Epaphroditus brought the gifts to Paul sent by the Philippian church, he became ill and almost died. Paul tells the Philippians, “He has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill” (Philippians 2:26). What an amazing response! It does not say they were distressed that he was ill, but that he was distressed because they heard he was ill. That is the kind of heart God is aiming to create with cancer: a deeply affectionate, caring heart for people. Don’t waste your cancer by retreating into yourself.

8. You will waste your cancer if you grieve as those who have no hope.

Paul used this phrase in relation to those whose loved ones had died: “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). There is a grief at death. Even for the believer who dies, there is temporary loss: loss of body, loss of loved ones here, loss of earthly ministry. But the grief is different — it is permeated with hope. “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). Don’t waste your cancer grieving as those who don’t have this hope.

9. You will waste your cancer if you treat sin as casually as before.

Are your besetting sins as attractive as they were before you had cancer? If so, you are wasting your cancer. Cancer is designed to destroy the appetite for sin. Pride, greed, lust, hatred, unforgiveness, impatience, laziness, procrastination — all these are the adversaries that cancer is meant to attack. Don’t just think of battling against cancer. Also think of battling with cancer. All these things are worse enemies than cancer. Don’t waste the power of cancer to crush these foes. Let the presence of eternity make the sins of time look as futile as they really are. “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?” (Luke 9:25).

10. You will waste your cancer if you fail to use it as a means of witness to the truth and glory of Christ.

Christians are never anywhere by divine accident. There are reasons for why we wind up where we do. Consider what Jesus said about painful, unplanned circumstances: “They will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake. This will be your opportunity to bear witness” (Luke 21:12–13).

“If you don’t believe God designed your cancer for you, you will waste it.”

So it is with cancer. This will be an opportunity to bear witness. Christ is infinitely worthy. Here is a golden opportunity to show that he is worth more than life. Don’t waste it.

Remember, you are not left alone. You will have the help you need. “My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/dont-waste-your-cancer

Making Church a Safe Place for Sorrow

Christine Chappell

Christine Chappell is the author of Clean Home, Messy Heart and Help! My Teen is Depressed (Shepherd Press, forthcoming March 2020). She hosts The Hope + Help Project podcast and blogs at faithfulsparrow.com. Her writing has been featured at Desiring God, The Gospel Coalition, Risen Motherhood, Thrive Moms, Servants of Grace, and Devotable. Christine lives in South Carolina with her husband and three children.

Sometimes worship comes by way of weeping in the pew. When the broken enter the sanctuary of God on Sunday mornings, they do so, perhaps, with every fiber of their being tempting them to withdrawal. They drag their grief, depression, and sorrow behind them like a ball and chain, plodding along to their seats with the hope of going unnoticed in the crowd; that they manage to make it to church after peeling themselves out of bed is a grace manifested through gutsy volition.

There in the pew, they collide with the unspoken notion that a painted smile with stoic countenance acts as a prerequisite for respectable attendance. We subconsciously oblige the sorrowing among us to swallow their grief, pipe up, and praise the Lord. Disconnected from the celebratory riffs and confident proclamations, the crushed in spirit become sorely neglected by the exclusion of their spiritual pain in corporate worship.

In short, we stigmatize the sorrowing by fostering an emotional prosperity culture.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wasn’t fooled. He warned that community built upon “rapturous experiences and lofty moods” would stymie true Christian fellowship and prove itself disingenuous over time. The result being communities of believers who build programs and religious activities on human ideals instead of divine realities (Colossians 2:8). While Revelation 21 specifically lists death, mourning, crying, and pain as fundamental grievances believers will face, there is a shocking lack of corporate preparation to meet with such sorrows. Removing the stigma of deeply painful sadness requires the local church’s unhurried commitment to making room for it on Sunday mornings and a desire to equip leaders in one-another care.

WHEN THE SORROWING ARE SILENCED

There are times when carrying a burden requires we also carry a tune of lament to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). In his book, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, Pastor Mark Vroegop addresses the concerning absence of biblical lament in the music of our churches, noting that while, “at least a third of the Psalms are in a minor key, it seems that the American church avoids lament.” He continues, “More people than we probably know are weeping in our Sunday celebrations.”

In this challenging yet honest observation, Vroegop sheds light on the disconnect between our encounters with real-life pain and the traditional atmosphere of Sunday morning worship. Though the Scriptures are rich with language and comforts for those who are walking through devastating heartbreak, a robust theology of human sorrow seems to be missing from the modern-day songbook. As a result, people who limp to the house of God for spiritual refuge become ostracized, believing that their experiences of sorrow must be indicators of defective faith.

PREPARING THE PEOPLE FOR SORROW

Daniel Darling, the Vice President for Communications at the ERLC, has shared about his own personal experience with sorrow on Sunday mornings. “There are times,” he reflects, “when I’ve walked into the church and wondered just where to go with my distress. There are many faces to God, and the one I needed to see on those mornings wasn’t the triumphant Warrior but the gentle Shepherd. In those moments, I’ve wondered, Are there spaces for solitude, for lament, for grieving here?”

Of all places, the pulpit is where God’s people should be guided to a thorough biblical understanding of sorrow, grief, and suffering. Charles Spurgeon saw it as a pastoral responsibility to feed Psalms of lament to his congregation regularly for the purposes of ministering to those presently despondent, as well as to help others prepare for future suffering. He wanted his church to know that while King David experienced great victories and occasions to rejoice, he also had times when he “was very sad, and then he touched the mournful string.”

The Scriptures make room for the entire range of human emotions and experiences—particularly the ones we wish we could avoid through piety. It is of precious wisdom and value to understand that when the tribulations do arrive (John 16:33, 1 Peter 4:12), we have a living God who has promised to be with us, to sustain us, and to ultimately deliver us. The Lord does not view our sorrows as something strange or repulsive, nor is he surprised by them. He long-suffers our sadnesses so we may learn the secret to being content in all circumstances (Philippians 4:11-13) In this way, faithful Christian living is not found in the avoidance of sadness, but in the engagement of it through faith in the Man of Sorrows himself. If the Scriptures offer such consolations, the pulpit must be the vehicle by which such blessed manna be spooned to the weary and worn.

CREATING MODERN-DAY LEPERS

When the Apostle Paul teaches we’re to bear one another’s burdens, he encourages us to focus especially on those in the household of faith (Galatians 6:10). Unfortunately, the church reveals its impatience for the weak and weeping by outsourcing the soul care of its sheep to secular sources. In doing so, believers are given the impression that the Scriptures are not capable of walking them through seasons of excessive sorrow. Like spiritual lepers, they’re cast outside the house of God to find their convalescence and healing. As Dr. Dale Johnson, the Executive Director for the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors, rightly observes: “The church has demonstrated we ought to be a last resort to many human problems.”

Scriptural sufficiency (2 Timothy 3:16-17) is rarely propounded in the local church as a resource for helping people navigate their sadness. Thus, the intentional discipleship of melancholy Christians is often entirely neglected. In instances where sufferers do seek biblical soul care from their church, it’s not uncommon to be met with trite slogans, impatient rebukes, or outright rejection altogether—further perpetuating the stigma of sorrow. The notion that human experiences of hopelessness, depression, and grief are problems only “professionals” can address is a gross disregard of what it means to belong to and be cared for by the body of Christ.

I know what it is to secretly sorrow in the pew—to mourn over my inability to match the emotional jubilation of those around me. Not only did my soul seem distant from God on those mornings, but I felt like a filthy pebble among diamonds in the sanctuary. What are we to do when sad people cannot lift themselves to the emotional heights we enjoy? We follow our Lord’s example and step down into their world. Vroegop encourages, “There is a song of mercy to be sung under dark clouds. The church should lead the way. Through every injustice and every sorrow, followers of Jesus can help one another find their way through the pain.”

In our local churches, we’re to help the weak and fainthearted with all patience and brotherly affection (1 Thessalonians 5:14). By corporately acknowledging the broken-hearted through worship, preaching, and one-another care, we affirm that sorrows of any kind rightly belong in the house of God. Such attentiveness, compassion, and Christian community can become one of the most blessed manifestations of Jesus Christ’s presence we can experience on this side of heaven.

Posted at: https://servantsofgrace.org/making-church-a-safe-place-for-sorrow/

Someone Needs to See You Suffer Well

Article by Marshall Segal

Few things fortify the soul against Satan’s deception like watching another Christian suffer with persevering faith. When we watch others walk through the valley of the shadow of death with purpose and joy in God, through ups and downs, their faithfulness and endurance inspire fresh hopefulness and vigilance. Elisabeth Elliot has been that kind of person for me (and countless others).

She and her husband, Jim, married on the mission field in Ecuador in 1953. Just three years later, Jim was speared to death, along with four other men, by the Huaorani tribe he was trying to reach with the gospel. Elisabeth received the news while caring for their 10-month-old daughter, Valerie. She writes,

God’s presence with me was not Jim’s presence. That was a terrible fact. God’s presence did not change the terrible fact that I was a widow. . . . Jim’s absence thrust me, forced me, hurried me to God, my hope and my only refuge. And I learned in that experience who God is. Who he is in a way I could never have known otherwise. (Suffering Is Never for Nothing, 15)

“Your suffering is not a detour.”

She married again after sixteen years, only to lose her second husband, Addison, less than four years later, to cancer. Some have suffered more, to be sure, but not most of us. And few have championed the precious good God can do through the terrible facts in our lives like Elisabeth did. Her testimony reminds me of another sufferer, the apostle Paul, who endured sorrow after sorrow with great joy and enduring faith.

Suffering Is Not a Detour

Prison was no detour for Paul. While anyone, even Christians, might have been prone to pity him, he saw the startling potential in his imprisonment. The worst hardships, he knew, were often the greatest highways for the gospel. He writes, “I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me” — wrongfully arrested, incarcerated, and left for dead (Philippians 1:20) — “has really served to advance the gospel” (Philippians 1:12). The gospel did not survive his imprisonment, but prospered while he suffered — no, because he suffered.

None of us naturally responds this way to suffering. Unexpected turbulence in life does not naturally overflow in bright hope and selfless love. Apart from grace, suffering makes us impatient, selfish, and despairing. We withdraw, turn inward, and are less concerned with (or even aware of) the needs of others. We often cannot see beyond the darkness we feel.

But the grace of God goes to work to create the opposite impulses, especially in suffering. Suffering was not a distraction, inconvenience, or detour for Paul, but a breakthrough for what he cared most about: the spread of the gospel and the glory of Jesus.

Suffering Reveals What We Treasure

How did the gospel run while Paul sat alone in a cell? He tells us in the next verse:

It has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. (Philippians 1:13–14)

Suffering faithfully catalyzes the gospel in at least two great ways. First, suffering reveals our purpose and treasure like comfort and security do not. Everyone knew Paul was in prison for Christ (Philippians 1:13). Many were only exposed to his love for Jesus because he was mistreated and confined. If he did not suffer, they would not have been so powerfully confronted with his joy and message.

“Many will not be curious about the hope within us unless we suffer something that requires hope.”

Many in the imperial guard, for instance, may have never heard the gospel at all if Paul had not been locked away there. Many will not be curious about the hope within us (1 Peter 3:15) unless we suffer something that requires hope (1 Peter 3:13). Satan may still believe that a thick fog of suffering will obscure the faithfulness of God (Job 1:9–11), but faithful suffering brings his glory into greater, more compelling clarity. When you suffer, think about the people watching you suffer, and what they’re learning about Jesus.

Nothing Advances the Gospel Like Suffering

Suffering also catalyzes the gospel by encouraging and emboldening other sufferers. Again, Paul says,

Most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. (Philippians 1:14)

His enemies, in Jerusalem and in the spiritual realm, conspired to silence him in prison, but they could not stop, or even slow, the gospel. Their failed attempts to crush Paul’s spirit and testimony only threw gas on the fire of his ministry. As he suffered well, others said more, and more boldly. Who might finally speak up for Jesus because they saw you joyfully suffer for Jesus?

Nothing advances the gospel like suffering. For those who love God, all things not only “work together for good” (Romans 8:28), but work together to perfectly display the wisdom, power, and love of God. Against all our worst fears and assumptions, suffering well actually proves the gospel’s power over and over again, and spurs the spread of the gospel further and faster by inspiring boldness in others.

Don’t assume your suffering is a detour. Suffering may hinder or even halt a hundred things in our lives, but God loves to use our griefs to magnify our small visions of him. And suffering makes the gospel run with a pace unknown in prosperity.

Someone Needs to See You Suffer Well

As is often the case in God’s word, the words we may easily overlook in Philippians 1:12–14 might be the most instructive: “I want you to know . . . ” Even while Paul suffered in extraordinary and horrible ways, he was more concerned for others’ faith and joy in Jesus than he was for his circumstances.

“Suffering reveals our purpose and treasure like comfort and security do not.”

Paul wanted others to know that God can be trusted, no matter what comes, that the gospel cannot and will not be suppressed, that Jesus really is worth everything we might suffer. He is not writing, even from prison, to garner their pity or sympathy, but to rouse and fortify their devotion. What if we suffered with eyes like his, seeing the remarkable opportunity to encourage and inspire other believers, especially those who are suffering?

Paul writes elsewhere,

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. (2 Corinthians 1:3–4)

We don’t know all of God’s good purposes in suffering, but we do know that he uses our suffering to prepare us to comfort others. That means we often suffer, sometimes severely, in ways we don’t understand now, because we haven’t met the person who will one day be comforted by our story. Greater suffering requires greater comfort from God, which makes us greater comforters for others.

Deepest Waters and Hottest Fires

After all Elisabeth Elliot lost and endured, she could say,

The deepest things that I have learned in my own life have come from the deepest suffering. And out of the deepest waters and the hottest fires have come the deepest things that I know about God. (Suffering Is Never for Nothing, 9)

When deep waters and hot fires come, I want to know God like she did — and I want to help others suffer great pain and loss with as much spiritual fruit and hope in God.

Elliot lost a husband to murder and another to cancer. Paul suffered imprisonment, slander, beatings, and worse. The severity of their suffering, however, does not make their suffering irrelevant to ours. Whatever suffering God brings — whatever pain, whatever disappointment, whatever trial, however big or small — we should want to be able to say with Paul, “It has become known to all that my suffering is for Christ.”

We want others to finally meet Jesus because they saw him in how patiently we responded to unexpected delays at work. We want a brother or sister in the Lord to press on because we kept praising the Lord when the car broke down again or the basement flooded. We want another believer to speak up about Jesus because we shared with, and were rejected by, another neighbor. We want whatever we suffer, however big or small, to make God look more trustworthy and satisfying for anyone who might see how we suffer.

Someone needs to see you suffer well with Jesus. People need to see you clinging to his promises, treasuring his friendship, and praising his name when life is falling in on you. Some may not know how much they need to see you endure because their suffering hasn’t come yet. But it will. And when it comes, they will remember the saints who they have seen suffer well.

Marshall Segal (@marshallsegal) is a writer and managing editor at desiringGod.org. He’s the author of Not Yet Married: The Pursuit of Joy in Singleness & Dating. He graduated from Bethlehem College & Seminary. He and his wife, Faye, have a son and live in Minneapolis.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/someone-needs-to-see-you-suffer-well

My Joy Rose as Sorrows Fell

Vaneetha Risner

I used to have a great life. I went on exciting vacations, cooked gourmet meals for my family, and painted everything from dishes to canvas. Sure, I had limitations from my childhood polio, but I was able to do whatever I wanted. Slowly, however, all that changed. Today I use a wheelchair to go where I once walked. I admire art I once created. I need assistance when I once only offered it. My world has grown smaller.

Decades ago, the words from 2 Corinthians 6:10, “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing,” seemed admirable in theory but impossible in practice. I couldn’t imagine joy and sorrow even coexisting; by definition, having one meant the absence of the other. The only way I could have imagined rejoicing when I was sorrowful was if my temporary sorrow were to be displaced by swift, miraculous deliverance. Then I could rejoice, while everyone marveled at my faith and God’s goodness.

My Unexpected Sorrows

So, when I was unexpectedly diagnosed with post-polio syndrome sixteen years ago, I couldn’t see how I could find joy apart from healing. The doctors said there was no cure for my condition, and I would live with continual loss. To slow down the progression, they advised me to reduce life to a bare minimum and stop overusing my arms. As a wife and mother of young children, I was forced to make difficult choices daily, and new losses cropped up every month. It felt relentless. Honestly, it still does.

Today I can’t even make my own coffee, much less carry it to the table. I deal with ongoing pain that will only intensify. While this may sound depressing, it has surprisingly made me more joyful. I’ve learned to stop fixating on my circumstances and start rejoicing in the God who has drawn closer to me through them.

How I Still Rejoice

As my body weakens, God has become more real and present than ever. I can echo the words of Psalm 46:1, that God is my “refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” In all my trials, the Lord has never failed me, never left my side, never let me go.

“As my body weakens, God has become more real and present than ever.”

The Bible has become more precious to me because God’s assurances of comfort, strength, and deliverance are no longer simply words I’ve memorized; now they are promises that sustain me. Because I have to depend on God for even the smallest tasks, I must constantly look to him. It is a conscious decision to stop focusing on what’s around me and start focusing on God. It’s a choice I must make all day, every day.

As I have walked with God through the valley of the shadow of death, I have learned three great lessons for being “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”

1. Weep

Before I can rejoice, I need to lament. This step is critical because it is only through acknowledging and grieving my pain that I’ve experienced God’s presence and comfort. Without this step, my words may sound spiritual and even eloquent, but they are disconnected from my life — I’m left feeling empty and alone.

I used to think it was wrong to lament. I would pretend my pain didn’t bother me, silently pulling away from God while outwardly praising him. I didn’t know how else to handle being “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.” Since then, I’ve learned that God understands our lament. The Bible has given me words to use — God, in his kindness, shows us how to be real with him.

In the Bible, David (Psalm 69:1–3), the apostle Paul (2 Corinthians 12:7–9), and even Jesus himself (Mark 14:36) all asked God to take away their suffering, so I boldly ask God for deliverance as well. God doesn’t expect me to stoically approach pain, pretending it doesn’t hurt, but rather invites me to cry out to him and tell him what I long for. It is in this authentic, intimate conversation with God that he changes me. I tell him when I feel abandoned. I ask him for renewed strength. I beg for a reprieve from pain.

David begins Psalm 13 by saying, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Psalm 13:1), and yet he ends a few verses later by saying, “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation” (Psalm 13:5). What caused his new outlook? How could he go from questioning God one moment to rejoicing the next? For me, just as for David, this shift happens when I talk directly to God, expecting him to answer.

“In suffering, I often see God most clearly, perhaps because I am more desperate to find him.”

When I follow David’s example, my perspective changes as David’s did. My circumstances may be unchanged, but what’s happening around me is no longer my focus. Something inside me shifts as I read God’s words and pour out my unedited thoughts to him. God himself meets me, comforting and reviving me. One moment I am overwhelmed by the pain in my life, and the next moment I have renewed hope and perspective. Countless times, I have prayed Psalm 119:25, “My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to your word!” And God has done just that.

2. Look for Him

In sorrow I have learned the joy of God’s presence. God is always with us and there is nowhere we can flee from him, but there are times I am more aware of him. In suffering, I often see God most clearly, perhaps because I am more desperate to find him. As Hosea 6:3 says, “Let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.”

God comes to us as we look for him. I can echo David’s proclamations in the Psalms — I have found fullness of joy in God’s presence, and I’ve tasted and seen God’s goodness firsthand. This kind of joy is in God alone who comforts me, strengthens me, and assures me that he will never leave me.

3. Trust His Design

I have joy knowing there is a purpose to my suffering. My suffering was designed by God for my good — not to punish me but to bless me. Though I may not readily see or understand what God is doing, I know God is transforming me through my trials. My suffering has produced a resilient joy — one that leads to endurance, character, and hope (Romans 5:3–5). The things of this world are less appealing, and the things of God are far more precious.

After living through my worst nightmares, I have less fear of the future and more joy in the present. I am confident that God will be with me, even through the valley of the shadow of death, and I know he is working all things for my good. Being “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” doesn’t mean we need to rejoice about our suffering, but that we can rejoice even in the midst of our suffering.

Yes, I used to have a great life, but now my life is even better. My sorrow has produced an overflowing joy that can never be taken away.

Vaneetha Rendall Risner is a freelance writer and regular contributor to Desiring God, who blogs at danceintherain.com. She is married to Joel and has two daughters, Katie and Kristi. She and Joel live in Raleigh, North Carolina. Vaneetha is the author of the book The Scars That Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/my-joy-rose-as-sorrows-fell

When Life is Hard.

Shepherd’s Press

Life is hard. Life brings pain. Moments of happiness and joy fade quickly when darkness comes. When life is hard God calls out to his people, his voice remains strong and sure.

It is in this setting that David writes Psalm 27. David has known joy and victory. But he has also known the despair of failure and agony. Some of this has come from the betrayal and manipulation of those closest to him. Some have been self-inflicted.

David hears the call to doubt God. He hears the taunts of his oppressors. He hears that he is mocked and his God is mocked. He is tempted to believe that God is unfair. There is a taunt — “God, are you for real?” This is the world of Psalm 27. It is David’s world. But even against this painful tapestry the voice of the Spirit remains.

David chooses to respond with courage, with bravery. Even as people have failed him, as he has failed himself and God, he hangs on to the clarion call of truth.

Read David’s words against this setting. He is not writing in an idyllic pasture on a perfect fall morning. He writes in the storms of life and he cries out for mercy and courage to believe it is a good thing to wait in patience.

Where is God when life is hard? He is there calling you to patience and courage.:

Hear me as I pray, O Lord.
Be merciful and answer me!

My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”
And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”

Do not turn your back on me.
Do not reject your servant in anger.

You have always been my helper.
Don’t leave me now; don’t abandon me,
O God of my salvation!

Even if my father and mother abandon me,
the Lord will hold me close.

Teach me how to live, O Lord.
Lead me along the right path,
for my enemies are waiting for me.

Do not let me fall into their hands.
For they accuse me of things I’ve never done;
with every breath they threaten me with violence.

Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness
while I am here in the land of the living.

Wait patiently for the Lord.
Be brave and courageous.

Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.

Posted at: https://www.shepherdpress.com/when-life-is-hard/?fbclid=IwAR2JiF_uUldovB2Mjoue7UCyHGg-n4K1vnu1f983Yls9HLW2dRSdgf3VZuk

How to Say ‘God Is Faithful’ When Suffering Won’t Stop

Jon Aragón

It’s been a tough year for me. While 2018 was filled with creative, financial, and relational blessing, 2019 has been much more difficult.

My wife, Quina, and I have dealt with her ministry burnout and discouraging health issues, along with her grandmother’s death, relational strains with people we love, deferred hopes to conceive another child, and the deportation of my aunt and uncle.

After experiencing so much answered prayer in 2018, this year’s unanswered prayers and unmet desires have done a number on our hearts. You pray and fast and act for something—something as good as justice or reconciliation or healing or a child—but the answer is still “No” or “Not yet.” I’ve discovered that my heart can be so easily filled with bitterness against God as I struggle to reconcile his goodness with the suffering happening all around me.

If God is the God of justice, of reconciliation, of deliverance, of life, then what does it look like to trust him when injustice comes, division remains, and death mocks? How can we still confidently proclaim, “Our God is faithful”—and actually mean it?

Deliverance In, Not From

First, we must acknowledge the ways God is delivering us in our trials, even when he hasn’t delivered us from our trials. Or as Elihu put it, “He delivers the afflicted by their affliction and opens their ear by adversity” (Job 36:15).

God is delivering us in our trials, even when he hasn’t delivered us from our trials.

I would be lying if I said God hasn’t been delivering me in the midst of these trials. I have felt my compassion deepen for the oppressed as my family and I have tasted the injustice of a broken immigration system. I’ve learned to better serve my wife in her health limitations and grief. I’ve grown more honest in my prayer life, which has only drawn me closer to God rather than driven me from him.

Perhaps the sweetest balm of grace in my trials this year has been the steady presence, prayers, and support of my friends and church family. They have shared in my trials in such a way that even when I don’t want to believe it, I can’t help but admit that God sees me and cares for me.

Our Wounded Healer

Second, we must know that our God isn’t just a healer, but a wounded healer, as Henri Nouwen put it. How did Jesus heal our wounds of sin? With his own wounds (Isa. 53:5).

We serve the only God with scars (Luke 24:39–40; John 20:20, 27; Rev. 5:12). The only God willing to take on human flesh and the human experience of pain and limitations, who then took on the full weight of human sin and lived to tell the tale.

Do you know this God? He is the wounded healer who sympathizes with your weaknesses and afflictions. He is the God who gave himself as his greatest gift. Even in the darkness, as the pain settles in, we can proclaim, “Our God is faithful”—and truly mean it.

Proclaim Him in Lament

Last, we can use the voice and the gifts God has given us to proclaim his faithfulness. How do we do this? The psalmists knew it well: we lament.

In his book Prophetic Lament, Soong Chan-Rah states, “Lament challenges the church to acknowledge real suffering and plead with God for his intervention.” What would it look like if your family gatherings, your small group, and your church were consistently marked with Godward lament over injustices and suffering? Perhaps it would look a bit more like Christ himself.

Biblical lament calls us to passionately express our grief, our complaints, our questions, even our anger to God. It calls for messy, inarticulate, snot-filled prayers. It calls for honesty when someone asks, “How can I pray for you?” And it demands that our triumphal assumptions about the Christian life be confronted by the Savior who was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isa. 53:3).

As I’m learning soul honesty with God and others, lament has been a challenging yet refreshing opportunity to lean more deeply into the arms of my faithful Father. I pour out my heart to God in lament, and I rise with much greater conviction that he is, indeed, faithful.

More Faithful Representation

It’s easy for us to only see the highlight reel of people’s lives on social media. But I hope that through our various callings, we can more honestly portray the Christian walk.

That walk that includes both mountaintops and valleys. Lots of valleys. The walk acknowledges the deliverance of our wounded healer, even when the darkness hasn’t fully lifted. And the walk is marked by the kind of lament that exalts God’s faithfulness over and above our own.

This is how we’ll be able to say, “God is faithful”—and truly mean it.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/say-god-faithful-suffering/

Hang on to God in Hard Times

Shepherd’s Press

Psalm 46 was written for difficult times, times like this past weekend in El Paso and Dayton. These opening verses are filled with the drama of life-dominating events. But even in chaos and turmoil, God is our refuge, the one we can hang on to:

“God is our refuge and strength,

a helper who is always found

in times of trouble.

Therefore we will not be afraid,

though the earth trembles

and the mountains topple

into the depths of the seas,

though its water roars and foams

and the mountains quake with its turmoil.”

Jacob was someone who knew that he needed to trust God. He made a mess out of his life. He struggled with God and with people. He conspired with his mother to steal his brother Esau’s birthright and blessing. He was deceived by his father-in-law about whom he would marry. He, in turn, managed to turn the tables and deceived his father-in-law to get his best livestock. Finally, it all caught up with Jacob. He fled from his father-in-law only to learn that Esau was coming to find him. One night when he was alone and worried he came across a man. But it was not just an ordinary man. Jacob wrestled with the man all through the night and would not let him go. The man, actually an angel of God or a theophany, responded by injuring his hip. But, still, Jacob would still not let go, so we read in Genesis 32:

Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

Jacob, the conniver, the con artist, is nonetheless a model for your faith. He held on to God with all that he had. He understood this is God’s world and he needed the blessing of God to survive. Jacob’s story is not one that would be typically held out as a model to follow. But throughout his life, he knew that God was God and he was not. Hebrews 11 lists Jacob as a man who lived by faith.

As Psalm 46 reminds us that the God of Jacob is our refuge and our strength. No, Jacob did not get everything right. But he got God right. Jacob is an example to you and to me that our hope lies not in how good we are, but in how good God is. Jacob knew that the most important thing in life is clinging to the promises of a faithful God. Many of the days of humanity are dark. But even in the darkest valley, God is still our God and merciful shepherd. Follow Jacob and hang on to the living God of heaven and earth!

Posted at: https://www.shepherdpress.com/hang-on-to-god-in-hard-times/?fbclid=IwAR2E80pC6IFeL-NEq9cxdmHMWUZf_9vGptXMZMU438TISXTDXhMunVPx5KY