What Makes It Possible for the Christian to Rejoice in the Midst of Pain and Anxiety?

RC Sproul

In 1993, my wife and I were involved in an historic train wreck. The crash of the Sunset Limited into an inlet from Mobile Bay killed more passengers than any Amtrak accident in history. We survived that eerie accident but not without ongoing trauma. The wreck left my wife with an ongoing anxiety about being able to sleep on a train at night. The wreck left me with a back injury that took fifteen years of treatment and therapy to overcome. Nevertheless, with these scars from the trauma we both learned a profound lesson about the providence of God. Clearly, God’s providence in this case for us was one of benign benevolence. It also illustrated to us an unforgettable sense of the tender mercies of God. In as much as we are convinced that God’s providence is an expression of His absolute sovereignty over all things, I would think that a logical conclusion from such a conviction would be the end of all anxiety.

However, that is not always the case. Of course, our Lord Himself gave the instruction to be anxious for nothing to His disciples and, by extension, to the church. His awareness of human frailties expressed in our fears was manifested by His most common greeting to His friends: “Fear not.” Still, we are creatures who, in spite of our faith, are given to anxiety and at times even to melancholy.

As a young student and young Christian, I struggled with melancholy and sought the counsel of one of my mentors. As I related my struggles, he said, “You are experiencing the heavy hand of the Lord on your shoulder right now.” I had never considered God’s hand being one that gave downward pressure on my shoulder or that would cause me to struggle in this way. I was driven to prayer that the Lord would remove His heavy hand from my shoulder. In time, He did that and delivered me from melancholy and a large degree of anxiety.

On another occasion I was in a discussion with a friend, and I related to him some of the fears that were plaguing me. He said, “I thought you believed in the sovereignty of God.” “I do,” I said, “and that’s my problem.” He was puzzled by the answer, and I explained that I know enough about what the Bible teaches of God’s providence and of His sovereignty to know that sometimes God’s sovereign providence involves suffering and affliction for His people. That we are in the care of a sovereign God whose providence is benevolent does not exclude the possibility that He may send us into periods of trials and tribulations that can be excruciatingly painful. Though I trust God’s Word that in the midst of such experiences He will give to me the comfort of His presence and the certainty of my final deliverance into glory, in the meantime I know that the way of affliction and pain may be difficult to bear.

The comfort that I enjoy from knowing God’s providence is mixed at times with the knowledge that His providence may bring me pain. I don’t look forward to the experience of pain with a giddy anticipation; rather, there are times when it’s necessary for me and for others to grit our teeth and to bear the burdens of the day. Again, I have no question about the outcome of such affliction, and yet at the same time, I know that there are afflictions that will test me to the limits of my faith and endurance. That kind of experience and knowledge makes it easy to understand the tension between confidence in God’s sovereign providence and our own struggles with anxiety.

Romans 8:28, which is a favorite for many of us, states that “all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose” (NKJV). There’s no other text that demonstrates so clearly and magnificently the beauty of God’s sovereign providence than that one. The text does not say that everything that happens to us, considered in and of itself, is good; rather, it says that all things that happen are working together for our good. That is the master plan of God’s redemptive providence. He brings good out of evil. He brings glory out of suffering. He brings joy out of affliction. This is one of the most difficult truths of sacred Scripture for us to believe. I’ve said countless times that it is easy to believe in God but far more difficult to believe God. Faith involves living a life of trust in the Word of God.

As I live out the travail that follows life on this side of glory, hardly a day goes by that I am not forced to look at Romans 8:28 and remind myself that what I’m experiencing right now feels bad, tastes bad, is bad; nevertheless, the Lord is using this for my good. If God were not sovereign, I could never come to that comforting conclusion — I would be constantly subjected to fear and anxiety without any significant relief. The promise of God that all things work together for good to those who love God is something that has to get not only into our minds, but it has to get into our bloodstreams, so that it is a rock-solid principle by which life can be lived.

I believe this is the foundation upon which the fruit of the Spirit of joy is established. This is the foundation that makes it possible for the Christian to rejoice even while in the midst of pain and anxiety. We are not stoics who are called to keep a stiff upper lip out of some nebulous concept of fate; rather, we are those who are to rejoice because Christ has overcome the world. It is that truth and that certainty that gives relief to all of our anxieties.

This post was originally published in Tabletalk magazine.

Posted at: https://www.ligonier.org/blog/what-makes-it-possible-christian-rejoice-midst-pain-and-anxiety/?utm_content=buffer1baf3&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=buffer&fbclid=IwAR1kqnChnlGnD2bLJ2maY0hZV97nuINg7RL285NGniyOvsMtxrVd7AMmDSI

The Imperative-Indicative Balance

by Bryan Chapell 

Right application of Scripture necessitates Herman Ridderbos’s famous insight into Paul’s theology. Every imperative of Scripture (what we are to do for God) rests on the indicative (who we are in our relationship with God), and the order is not reversible (Acts 16:14–16; Col. 3:1–5; 1 John 5:1–5).[i] The human instinct with every non-Christian religion reverses the order, teaching that who we are before God is based on what we do for God. Thus, any preaching that is distinctively Christian must keep listeners from confusing, or inverting, our “who” and our “do.”

What Christians do is based on who we are in Christ. We obey because God has loved us and united us to himself by his Son; we are not united to God, nor do we make him love us, because we have obeyed him. Our obedience is a response to his love, not a purchase of it. We keep this indicative-imperative relationship clear, not by when we happen to mention each element in a sermon, but by making sure that the message is not done until listeners are motivated to obey God based upon God’s gracious provision for them.

Sometimes, we’ll lay a foundation of God’s provision as a motivational basis for the imperatives that follow; other times, we’ll detail the clear duties of the text before explaining the relationship with God that enables our obedience. There is a conceptual priority on the indicative that motivates and enables obedience, even if the imperatives follow in the actual presentation of the sermon.

If we try to establish a standard order or proportion for the mention of the imperatives and indicatives in our sermons, we will inevitably end up twisting texts in ways not intended by the original authors. We certainly should mention the imperatives and indicatives in various orders or proportions in different sermons according to the content and context of each biblical text. Still, the key to making any message gospel-consistent is making sure listeners do not walk away with the sense that their behavior is the basis of their redemption.

A sermon is not a sermon, if it includes no imperatives; a sermon without application is mere abstraction. But a sermon isn’t a Christian sermon if its ethical imperatives eclipse its gospel indicatives. A message that only heaps duty upon duty is mere legalism, even if the duties are in the text.

Proportions of imperative and indicative will vary, but listeners need to be able to discern the importance of each. We damage Scripture’s purposes, and the clarity of the gospel, if we do not pastorally consider what is needed for each element to be heard and lived.

A message that hammers on imperatives for 35 minutes, and then ends with a tossed in, “But remember Jesus loves you,” does not understand how the human heart functions. A message that mews about Jesus’ love for 35 minutes, and ends with an intangible, “So make your life count for him,” does not understand the human propensity to use grace to avoid obedience.

As pastors, we should aim for messages that enable people to honor our Savior with gospel-enabled obedience. To do this well, we must evaluate both the demands of a text and the disposition of our congregation. This will help us determine the proper balance between imperative and indicative.

If people don’t know what to do, then they cannot obey God. So imperatives of some sort are necessary. If people obey out of wrong motivations, then their so-called obedience doesn’t honor God. So indicatives that rightly motivate and enable must ground every imperative. The proportion varies, but both must be present with enough significance to inform behavior and stir affections for Christ’s honor.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the 9Marks blog and as part of the 9Marks magazine.

Bryan Chapell

Bryan Chapell is senior pastor of Grace Presbyterian Church in Peoria, Illinois, and the former chancellor of Covenant Theological Seminary in St. Louis, Missouri, the denominational seminary of the Presbyterian Church in America.

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/the-imperative-indicative-balance/

Wounded By Those We Love

by Dave Harvey

Recently I sat with a pastor from another city who spoke of deep wounds he carried over how certain church members responded to him when they disagreed. Only hours later, I met with a husband pained by the careless comments made to his wife by fellow believers during their miscarriage.

What these two leaders shared in common was a vague feeling of betrayal. They grappled to reconcile the inconsistency between what these Christians affirmed and how they acted. I could relate to their struggle. I’ve been hurt by Christians who have professed their love and, sadly, I have at times contradicted what I say I believe and behaved in ways that hurt others.

Over the years, I’ve noticed an unexpected pattern of experience shared by many pastors. Something that, had it been whispered to me as a zealous young leader, I would have shouted down in defiant disbelief.

Our greatest trials often come at the hands of other believers.

Let that sink in for a minute. It sounds crazy. To ponder it can almost feel like betraying God; like we’re exposing the family secrets, or the dark underbelly of our people. But the sooner we see it, the better we’ll understand it. The sooner we see it, the easier it will be to interpret it.

The Code

Christians have a code we live by called the Bible. We also have a family that attempts to live out the code together called the Church. The family wants to hold each other accountable for what we believe. It all sounds so simple.

But when we think others in the family (particularly those that lead the family) don’t live up to that code, it can provoke some serious sin in the church. And it will happen at the hands of people who believe with all of their hearts that they are honoring God by treating you in dishonorable ways.

It’s a particular problem for leaders. J. Oswald Sanders once said, “A cross stands in the way of spiritual leadership, a cross upon which the leader must consent to be impaled.” It really surprised me to discover that the cross we must consent to be impaled upon is often the Christians we lead. Tucked away in conflicted corners of the local church, we begin to comprehend a glorious paradox. Christians will provide many of our greatest joys… but they can also become the cross upon which we must consent to be impaled.

But think about it. Why should we be different? We follow a Crucified Savior, and his cross was experienced in a similar way. His right hand man denied him, another betrayed him, and his best friends abandoned him in Gethsemane. Think about Isaiah’s description: “He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our grief and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” (Isaiah 53:3-4)

The world rejected Christ, but it was the religious that screamed, “Crucify him,” (Mark 15:13–14).

It’s funny. We don’t tend to see the cross through relational eyes, but that seems to be one of the important ways Christ experienced it. Paul too. Can you imagine waking up one day to find, “…all who are in Asia turned away from me” (2 Tim 1:15)? Paul seemed to have that sort of abandonment happen all the time. It was a cross upon which he consented to be impaled.

So if you ever find yourself as a leader under self-righteous scrutiny or abandoned by those who promised fidelity, cheer up and look towards your Redeemer. You’re in good company! And when you find yourself wiping another tear from your eye, wondering again if you even have the will to move on, always remember, “In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.” (Heb 12:4).

Take courage. Jesus was impaled so you can press on.

Editor’s Note: This originally published at RevDaveHarvey.com

Dave Harvey

Dave Harvey (D. Min – Westminster Theological Seminary) is the president of Great Commission Collective, Dave pastored for 33 years and founded AmICalled.com. Dave travels widely across networks and denominations as a popular conference speaker. He is the author of When Sinners Say “I Do”, Am I Called, Rescuing Ambition, and co-authored Letting Go: Rugged Love for Wayward Souls. Dave’s recent release is titled I Still Do! Growing Closer and Stronger Through Life’s Defining Moments. Dave and his wife, Kimm, have four kids and four grandchildren and live in southwest Florida. (For videos or articles, visit www.revdaveharvey.com)

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/wounded-by-those-we-love/

Looking for the Light in the Tunnel

Laura Eder

How often have you heard the phrase “the light at the end of the tunnel” lately? How often have you said it? I have used this phrase when looking forward to the passing of a difficult season, such as this global pandemic, which has created all sorts of frustrations and anxiety. I would just like it to end.

Some seasons are dark. Like a tunnel, they are dim and restrictive with an overwhelming sense of confinement. And some tunnels are long—or, at the very least, they feel long.

I remember driving through the Detroit-Windsor tunnel into Canada on a family vacation when I was a kid. I couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. I don’t recall much of the trip, but the tunnel remains vivid in my memory.

Unlike most tunnels, this one was well-lit. It’s just shy of a mile and not the longest one I’ve ever been in, but it was the first. At the time, I felt trapped. This tunnel, though a major passage between two countries, was just a single lane in each direction. It felt narrow and cramped on a hot summer day. When you’re enclosed like that, you can only see what is in the tunnel with you. My vision was limited to the other cars and pick-up trucks alongside my family’s station wagon.

Lately, the pandemic has me feeling like I’m stuck in another tunnel. I’d like out. I’ve had enough. I’m ready for the open road and the clear, blue sky above. I’d like to worship in person with my church family, work at a real desk, and buy groceries without wearing a mask that fogs my glasses and irritates my allergies. I want my parents to be free from danger when leave their home. I’d like my friends to find jobs so they can pay bills. I feel boxed in, and I long for the Lord to set my feet in a spacious place (Ps. 31:8).

Reading Psalms has helped me to realize how short-sighted my prayers have been. So often, I focus only on asking God to deliver me from the tunnel. Speed up the passage, Lord! Please just spit me out on the other side already!

Longing for a trial to end is not necessarily sinful. The psalmists repeatedly show us how to pour out our hearts to God. I’m grateful for how God has used the psalmists’ prayers to remind me that I, too, can be honest and cry out to him in the darkness. Yet, my prayers don’t need to end there.

Where Should I Look for Light?

Instead of looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, I can ask for more light in the tunnel. In other words, I can ask God to raise my sights—to fix my eyes more on him. I can pray for a clear focus on God’s presence, as one of my favorite hymns instructs:

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.1

The question is: how do I see the light when darkness surrounds me?

1. Look to God’s Word

Psalm 112:4 says, “Light dawns in the darkness for the upright.” And Psalm 119 reminds me that God’s word is “a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (v. 105) and that “the unfolding of [God’s] words gives light” (v. 130). There is light in the darkness, and I need only open my Bible to find it. God’s Word is a light.

2. Look to God’s Son

The light is also a person. John talks about Jesus being the light of men that shines in the darkness. “In him was life, and the life was the light of men” (Jn 1:4). Jesus proclaims about himself, “I am the light of the world, whoever follows Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (Jn. 8:12). As a follower of Jesus, I have the light.

3. Live in the Light

In Psalm 139, when King David wonders where he can possibly go that God’s Spirit would not follow, he acknowledges, “even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.” And 1 John 1:5 gives me a similar encouragement: “God is light and in Him is no darkness at all.”

These truths changed me from a person who lived in darkness to one who now lives in the light. When I placed my faith in Jesus as Lord and Savior, I received his Spirit. This means the light of Christ is in me, no matter what dark situation I am in. Like King David, there is nowhere I can go and not be in his light. The deepest, longest tunnel cannot dim God’s light because even the darkness is as light to him!

While I believe the truth of God’s Word, it doesn’t always feel true. These long, dark seasons of life have a way of moving my eyes from eternal truth to temporary circumstances. When this happens, I need to rehearse these Bible promises. I also need to respond to them in faith.

Romans 13:12 urges us “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.” Ephesians 5:8 instructs, “now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.” I have been given gear to guard me from despair, and there is a particular manner with which I should now walk. Why? Because I don’t just have the light, I have become a light in this world to those watching. Matthew 5:14-16 declares this amazing truth:

You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

We have not yet reached the end of the COVID-19 tunnel, and we don’t know how long God will keep us going through it. The coronavirus situation is improving in some ways, but the trial hasn’t passed. Like the child in that Detroit-Windsor tunnel, I am tempted to look at only what surrounds me in this passageway. But God’s Word redirects my vision and transforms my prayers. I am now asking less for the ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, I can pray, “Lord, give me eyes to see you. Let me be a disciple who beholds and reflects the light I have, even in the midst of darkness.” Praise God for the light found in his Word and in his Son, and for the power of his Spirit to help me act in faith.

—

1. Mary E. Byrne (translator), “Be Thou My Vision”, Trinity Psalter Hymnal, #446, 1919.

Laura Eder

Laura is on staff at Unlocking the Bible, helping to equip leaders for the church. She has been an active member of The Orchard for 30 years where she and her husband Dan have led several LIFE Groups focused on biblical marriage. Laura has a passion for biblically sound teaching and resources that draw people into increasing Christlikeness. She delights to lead her weekly women’s LIFE Group, mentor younger ladies, and pray fervently for the Lord to send workers into the harvest field. She and Dan are parents of three adult children who love the Lord.

Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/07/looking-light-tunnel/

How to Pray When You’re Feeling Anxious or Depressed

David Murray

Five Helpful Words

Prayer is hard at the best of times, but it’s hardest during anxious or depressed times. During such seasons, most of us find it hard to concentrate, we feel God is far away, and we despair of God hearing or helping us. All of this makes prayer so difficult and discouraging.

How can we make prayer easier and more encouraging to us in such dark and disturbing spells? Here are five words I give to people to help them with the how of prayer when they are anxious or depressed:

• Short: Better one minute of real, concentrated prayer than fifteen minutes of distracted, wandering prayer.

• Frequent: Try to pray these short prayers throughout the day to keep you in contact with God. Perhaps set an hourly timer on your phone.

• Simple: Pray like a hurting child to a loving father. You don’t need complex theological compositions.

• Scriptural: When you can’t find any words of your own, use the words God has provided in the psalms, in the Lord’s Prayer, or in Paul’s prayers.

• Together: Ask someone to pray with you when you can’t pray for yourself. Perhaps they can pray over the phone with you and you can piggy-back to the throne of grace on their words.

If these five words help us with the how of prayer, let me give you five phrases to guide you in the what of prayer.

You Are

You are sovereign, Lord. You are good, wise, strong, gracious, and faithful. You are my rock, my shepherd, my peace.

Depression and anxiety turn us in upon ourselves so that we get self-centered and sometimes self-obsessed. We see all our lacks and hurts. Prayer helps us to put God at the center of our lives instead, which not only gives us something better to look at than ourselves but also helps us to see everything else better, including ourselves. That’s why we want to start prayer with worship, reminding ourselves of who God is and what God has done. We praise him using descriptions of his attributes and biblical images of his character. This changes what we see and how we see, giving us a God-centered view of our world and ourselves. That in itself is an encouraging and calming perspective.

I Am

I am the opposite of who you are, Lord. I am sad, anxious, and weak. I feel hopeless, helpless, and lonely. At times I don’t want to live. I know this is wrong, and I confess this to you. I am not who I want to be. I am not where I want to be.

Having begun with a God-centered worldview, we can then admit who and what we are and are not. Confession is simply telling God honestly who we are and where we’re at. God already knows, of course, without our telling him, but he still asks us to pour out our hearts to him. It honors God as the sympathizer with weakness and the forgiver of sins. It is therapeutic for us to hear ourselves describe ourselves in the presence of the God who understands our frailties and who forgives our transgressions. Depression and anxiety bring a ton of guilt upon us (both false and real guilt), an oppressive load that crushes our spirits and closes our lips. Being honest and transparent about it before God begins to shift that load off our shoulders and on to Christ’s.

I Trust

Faithful God, although I don’t feel much faith or confidence in you, I will not be guided by my feelings. I trust you, Lord. I trust your word, your character, your faithfulness. I believe all that the Bible says about you, and I will recall your past faithfulness. I trust you, therefore, that you have not changed, though I have; that you are still here, though I don’t sense you; that you are my God, though I don’t feel like I’m your child. I trust your plan for me, and I rest in you as you carry me through these dark and disturbing days.

As songs like Psalm 42, 43, 37, and 73 demonstrate, expressions of trust build trust. The more we articulate our confidence in God, the stronger that confidence grows. And when we can’t say it with 100% certainty, we can always say, “I believe, help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24). Perhaps you can recall past times of God’s faithfulness to make your faith fuller. God is honored and pleased with faith, especially when we are walking in darkness and have no light (Isa. 50:10). Some of my spiritual heroes are Christians who have battled serious mental illness and have held on to God and his word, even with the fingernail of their little finger. That’s far more difficult than trusting God when everything is going well for us, both internally and externally. It’s also more God-glorifying.

God can supply all our needs in the blink of an eye without our asking.

I Need

All-sufficient Provider, I am desperately needy. I need you above all. But I also need peace, joy, hope, patience, sanity, and so much more. I beg you to help me even just to get through this day. Will you help my family and friends as they struggle to understand me? Teach them how to love me. But help me also to love them, especially when I feel so flat. Help me to do my daily duties even when I find no joy in them. I pray for the needs of other depressed and anxious people, too.

God can supply all our needs in the blink of an eye without our asking (Matt. 6:8). However, he asks us to ask and to look to him for everything we need. We can bring to him our physical needs, emotional needs, mental needs, spiritual needs, social needs, and vocational needs. Nothing is too big, and nothing is too small.

I Thank

Giver of every good and perfect gift, I thank you for all you have done, are doing, and will do. I thank you for all you have given, are giving, and will give. I thank you that I am not even worse than I am. I thank you for moments of joy and peace. I thank you for pastors, for brothers and sisters in Christ, for counselors, for doctors, for psychologists, for psychiatrists, and for medications.

Depression and anxiety focus our attention on what we lack, so it’s important to take time to remember all God has given to us and has done for us, both in redemptive history and in our own personal history. Ask him to help you see what you often are blind to or just take for granted. Even just walk around your kitchen or yard and thank God for all you see and have there. Thanksgiving is life-giving.

Prayer is rarely easy. But I hope these five words and five phrases make it easier in times of depression and anxiety. Let me close with a prayer for you:

Lord, you are full of joy and peace. Many of my readers are not. They are sad and panicky. Help them to see who you are and to worship and praise you. Lead them to confess their sins and their faith. As you know their needs and you can easily supply them, give them supplications that honor your willingness and ability to give. Give them what they lack and give them thanksgiving as they see you more clearly in their lives. Above all, remind your people of Jesus Christ who suffered more and deeper for them, and fill them with gratitude for his grace in coming, your love in sending him, and the Holy Spirit’s fellowship that applies all this to the soul. AMEN.

David Murray is the author of Why Am I Feeling Like This?: A Teen’s Guide to Freedom from Anxiety and Depression.

David Murray (PhD, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam) is the senior pastor of First Byron Christian Reformed Church. He is also a counselor, a regular speaker at conferences, and the author of Exploring the Bible. David has also taught Old Testament, counseling, and pastoral theology at various seminaries.

Overcome Your Fear of Others By Fearing God

Zach Schlegel 

They were trapped. On one side a massive Egyptian army coming after them, on the other side the Red Sea. Hundreds of thousands of people, young and old, had just left Egypt, but now it seemed their doom was sure.

“When Pharaoh drew near, the people of Israel lifted up their eyes, and behold, the Egyptians were marching after them, and they feared greatly…They said to Moses, “Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us in bringing us out of Egypt? Is not this what we said to you in Egypt: ‘Leave us alone that we may serve the Egyptians’? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness”” (Exod. 14:10–12).

It’s not hard to relate to the Israelites here. As I write this, millions of people around the world are locked down in quarantine from the coronavirus. Many feel trapped: the threat of sickness, economic hardship, loneliness and uncertainty about tomorrow – it’s a recipe for fear. We all have Red Sea moments and would prefer to avoid them if we could. When we read through the account of Israel’s deliverance from Egypt, the exit came with a dramatic display of 10 plagues: blood, frogs, flies, gnats, livestock die, and boils. Now God could’ve wiped out the Egyptians with one word. Why the plagues? What’s God up to? Before the seventh plague of hail, God instructs Moses to tell Pharaoh, “For this purpose I have raised you up, to show you my power, so that my name may be proclaimed in all the earth” (Exod. 9:16).

When Moses came to Pharaoh with the news it was time for him to let God’s people go, Egypt’s pompous ruler asked, “Who is the LORD, that I should obey his voice and let Israel go? I do not know the LORD” (Exod. 5:2). In his hubris, Pharaoh thought little of God, but the Exodus narrative shows how foolish he was to ignore the LORD. After Moses warned a seventh plague of hail was coming, he added a merciful warning to shelter man and beast lest they be killed. Their response? “Whoever feared the word of the LORD among the servants of Pharaoh hurried his slaves and his livestock into the houses” (Exod. 9:20). Those who feared God, obeyed what He commanded.

In Scripture, fear is more than feeling terrified. The fear of man certainly includes that, but it also means revering people, needing them, or valuing their opinion so much that our decisions end up being controlled by them. We obey what we fear. We fear failure, over commit, get defensive, avoid risks, compare, envy, or twist the truth often because of what others will think of us.

Pharaoh didn’t fear God, he feared people. Perhaps he thought, “The Israelites have been our servants for over 400 years; I’m not about to be the one responsible for losing them. The cost of losing slave labor would be disastrous to our economy! I’m not about to let this Israelite deity threaten me, I’m Pharaoh!” Desperate to have others see Him as important, powerful and in control, Pharaoh hardened his heart and paid the price.

The sad irony is that when the people of God were pinned up against the Red Sea, they had the same problem Pharaoh did: the fear of man. I’m not saying they weren’t in a tough spot – I’d probably be shaking in my boots given the situation – but remember what they’d witnessed! The showdown between God and Pharaoh, his magicians, and his gods was a joke! God isn’t threatened when the nations rage, He laughs (Ps 2:4). With a mighty hand (Exod. 3:19), God delivered His people from a powerful nation that had enslaved them. When they left, it was Egypt shaking in fear, not Israel! If they could’ve remembered who was on their side, they could’ve laughed at the enemy instead of panic.

The ten plagues in Exodus 7-12 show us the glory of God. When God passed through the land of Egypt during the last plague God said, “on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the LORD” (Exod. 12:12). All the idols of this world are nothing (1 Cor 8:4): “They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat. Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them” (Ps. 115:5-8). God is different than man-made idols. He is the living God who sees our plight, hears our cries, moves mountains, and saves (Exod. 2:24-25).

Our problem, like the Israelites, is we tend to focus on that which worries us such that we lose sight of God, fall into fear, and let it control us, not God. Our Red Sea moments remind us the iron bars of fear exist because of a myopic view of God (see 2 Pet 1:9). I imagine if we could look back on today when Christ comes back on the final day, we’ll ask, “Why was I afraid?”

Pinned up against the Red Sea, all Israel had to do was remember God’s promise to get them to the land flowing with milk and honey (Exod. 3:8) and the greatness of God revealed in their Exodus. Because God doesn’t change, the God who parted the Red Sea, is our God. We may not have Pharaoh breathing down our neck, but our Red Sea moments aren’t reasons to fear, they’re opportunities to see what God can do. We may not know what or when He will act, but we need to hear what Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD” (Exod. 14:13a). The clearer we see God, the less we will fear man (Prov. 14:26).

Knowing how prone the people of God are to forget, God instituted the Passover meal as a means to remember and bolster faith (Exod. 12). When future generations would celebrate this feast and ask ‘What does this mean?’ They were to answer, “By a strong hand the LORD brought us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery” (Exod. 13:14).

In the same way, when we struggle with fear God has given us a meal to remember and bolster our faith (1 Cor 11:23-25). When we remember Christ, our Passover lamb (1 Cor. 5:7) we’re reminded of a second exodus. Through Christ’s death and resurrection, our mighty God delivered us from sin, Satan and death. With our King firmly fixed in our heart and mind, we’re able to say, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?” (Ps. 56:3–4)

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the blog for Credo Magazine and is used with permission.

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/overcome-your-fear-of-others-by-fearing-god/

How Satan’s Involvement in Temptation Works

 Paul Tautges

In a recent sermon in our series in the Gospel of Mark, we took time to redirect to the Gospel of Luke, where we find a fuller account of Satan’s temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. In Luke 4:1-13, we see five important truths about Satan’s involvement in temptation.

Satan attacks when we are most vulnerable (vv. 1-3).

It’s important to note that Jesus was attacked after forty days of fasting in the wilderness. He was hungry. He was starving. Even then, however, Jesus resisted. The devil’s first temptation appealed to a legitimate physical appetite—the body’s desire to be fed. He struck at the point of greatest need—of greatest weakness—where Jesus was most vulnerable. Satan tempted Jesus to turn stone into bread.

Satan will often do the same to you; that is, he will take advantage of your weaknesses. He will tease his lies into the crevices of your heart, where fears and doubts exist, and tempt you to live out your natural tendency toward self-will and self-government—living for yourself, instead of for the Lord.

Now, it’s very important that you understand one major difference between our temptation to sin, and Jesus’ temptation. When Satan tempts us, it is often because we have already given him something to work with, something to use in his favor. Our temptation begins in our sinful heart (James 1:13-16). Jesus, the sinless Son of God, did not have a sinful heart and, therefore, did not have sinful desires. Nevertheless, the temptations that Satan threw at Him were not any less powerful. Jesus, in the fullness of His humanity, was hit full-force by the devil. Yet Jesus resisted.

Satan casts doubt on God’s Word (vv. 3, 9).

“If You are the Son of God” was a subtle attack on the integrity of God’s Word, since God had just declared Jesus to be His Son. Now the devil was challenging God’s statement. Satan has not changed. He is the same sneaky serpent who did the very same thing in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:1). The Spirit’s goal in driving Jesus into the wilderness was to affirm who He is, while Satan’s goal was to disqualify Jesus from being the Messiah. Satan knew the promise of God’s curse, that one day a man would crush the devil’s head (Genesis 3:15).

In all of Satan’s temptations to get Jesus to act out in self-will, he twisted Scripture or cast doubt upon its authority. Satan does the same thing to you and me. He tries to get us to doubt the sufficiency or authority of Scripture over our lives. Through various forms of media and art, we have been led to believe that Satan’s chief mode of operation is in the weird, demonic stuff: séances, Ouija boards, witchcraft, horoscopes, and the like. Sure, he’s involved in all that stuff. But his chief mode of operation is in the realm of ideas and beliefs (2 Cor. 10:4-5).

The stronghold of the mind is Satan’s primary battleground. Spiritual warfare happens in the mundane, day-to-day decisions of life. Who will you live for? Yourself or the Lord? When you give in to the devil’s temptations and lies, Scripture becomes a mere suggestion—instead of the final authority for what you believe and the foundation for your life decisions.

Satan feeds our fleshly pride (vv. 6-8).

The devil’s attack came to Jesus in the form of appealing to man’s innate desire to have position and power. This desire is not evil in and of itself, since God did give man dominion over the rest of creation. But Satan often tempts men and women to act out their fleshly desire for power and position, by creating a position of prominence for themselves, rather than waiting until they have been approved by God. Satan tempted Jesus to grab hold of all power and authority before it was God’s time for Him to exercise it.

The devil tempted Jesus to break the very first commandment, to worship God, alone. What really was the temptation here? It was the temptation for Jesus was to grab hold of the power and authority that rightfully would belong to Him, someday, without having to suffer for it. The devil was essentially saying to Jesus, “You can have all of this apart from the pain and suffering of Mount Calvary. All Jesus had to do was bow one knee to the devil and it would all be His! But that was not God’s will. God’s plan for the exaltation of Jesus included—required—the cross. No cross, no crown. No humiliation, no exaltation. It’s because Jesus was obedient to the cross that He will one-day be exalted and every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that He is Lord (Phil. 2:8-11).

See, the second temptation was an issue of worship. The devil offered Jesus power and authority over earthly kingdoms if He would only bow before him. Such is the temptation that many world leaders cave under. But Jesus responded to the temptation for power differently. Jesus understood that the devil was tempting Him to submit His own agenda—not to God’s. He was tempting him to become a servant of the devil. And God was testing the obedience of His Son. He was testing His heart as the source and center of worship. “Jesus, what do you worship?” “Jesus, who do you worship?” Those are the questions He was being asked.

And we are being asked the same questions. Every time we are tempted to sin—to act out in self-will—we are being asked, “What will you worship the most?”; “Who will we love the most?” That is always the question.

Satan encourages us to test God.

The third temptation of Jesus was essentially a test of whether or not He would put God to the test, a sin that Israel did repeatedly while in their wilderness (Psalm 78:17-18). God is to be trusted, not tested. To tempt Jesus, the devil took him to the “pinnacle of the temple.” From here Jesus could see the entire Kidron Valley.

This would have been a 500-foot “leap of faith,” which would have been equivalent to putting God to the test. But, again, Jesus again quoted Scripture. He answered the devil with another text from Deuteronomy, where Israel put God to the test by demanding that Moses produce water for them to drink. To give in to the devil’s temptation would be to test God to protect Him in a moment of great foolishness.

Do you sometimes give in to temptation in this way? Do you act irresponsibly and then expect God to protect you? Do you put God to the test?

Satan never gives up (Luke 4:13).

Finally, you need to recognize that Satan will never stop tempting you until you cave in. Verse thirteen says, “And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time.” Satan’s attacks upon Jesus did not end when Jesus successfully resisted them. Satan just left Jesus alone for a bit, until another ideal opportunity arose. The same is true for you and me. Satan might leave us alone for a time, but he is simply waiting—waiting for another moment when we are at our weakest and most vulnerable. Therefore,

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.

1 Peter 5:8-9

Listen to “Obedient in the Face of Tempation.”

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/07/30/how-satans-involvement-in-temptation-works/

The Elusive Trait of Reasonableness

Mark Loughridge

We live in an increasingly polarized world. Everything is binary. Nuance is suspect. Taking time to understand another is tantamount to compromise. Entrenchment is seen as best.

Social media hasn’t helped. Its faceless interface allows people to sound off without seeing the impact. Its algorithms surround us with a cheering crowd of opinion confirmers. Its instantaneous nature and characteristic brevity cater to point scoring, not persuasion.

Here is an opportunity for Christians to look and sound different. But for that to happen we need to be different. We all like to think we are reasonable, but many confuse being reasoned with being reasonable.

To be reasoned means that your opinions are well thought through. To be reasonable means you are open to persuasion.

James says the marks of godly wisdom are that it is “pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason…” (3:17 ESV). The word translated “open to reason” can be translated “willing to yield” or “persuadable” and has the idea of being willing to listen, to consider another person’s viewpoint, with an openness to changing your own.

Remember it is wisdom that is in view here—the art of applying biblical principles to all of life. God’s Word speaks clearly about the black and white issues—central doctrines, etc. But life isn’t always black and white; some parts are gray. Wisdom is the ability to apply God’s Word to make right decisions in the gray areas.

True wisdom is persuadable or open to reason. It recognizes that we don’t always get it right. That we haven’t necessarily arrived at our final opinion on every matter. That we have our biases, limitations, and blind spots. That situations change and new factors need to be taken into account.

Reasonableness is a practical outworking of our finitude. We don’t have all the answers, we don’t have infinite knowledge, and we are sinners. In short, we can be wrong.

I have come to value and look for this characteristic above many others—especially in church leaders. I have met those who don’t have it; for them it is their way or the highway. And at times I have failed to be reasonable too. Yet it is a key quality of leadership and Christian character.

Here are four aspects of reasonableness:

1. A commitment to considering all the factors. Too often we are tempted to make snap decisions. A situation sounds like one we were in before and, without stopping to consider what other factors may be involved, we move to a decision.

Experience has its place, yet this situation may be different from our previous experience. Wisdom stops to consider all the factors involved. Do they change our view of the situation? Do they mean we deal differently with it or move at a different pace?

2. The ability to reassess your own position in light of what you are hearing. Fundamentally the Christian must be a persuadable person. This needs to happen every week as we sit under God’s Word. Too often we can hear a challenging sermon and immediately think of someone else who needed to hear it—as opposed to applying it to our own soul. Do we let God’s Word reason with us? Are we open to persuasion?

It also needs to happen in discussion. We all like to think we are right. Yet often new information means we need to reassess our position. A wise person grasps new factors and changes accordingly. When did you last change your mind or alter an opinion?

3. The ability to hear another’s position and interact with its central points. Sometimes you can see the shutters coming down when you talk with someone. They aren’t listening to what you say, but are mentally rehearsing the next thing they will say. Or maybe we are the ones that do it.

The flip side of the coin is seeking refuge in the minutia when you are in the wrong—increasingly insisting on being in the right in a minor area, while ignoring fault in major areas. We need the humility to listen and engage teachably with others.

4. A hunger to grow. We should all have a hunger to grow in wisdom and knowledge, as Jesus did. Luke tells us the Lord grew in wisdom. If that is true of Him who was never wrong, how much more true must it be of us who often are?

Our growth is utterly undermined if we see everything as our own personal Martin Luther moment (“Here I stand, I can do no other”) or we see changing our mind as backing down and a sign of weakness. While being open to persuasion may in the short term lead to admission of error, in the long run it leads to growing in the ability to be right.

A Final Thought

I wonder how much James is reflecting on what he saw in his (half) brother Jesus when he writes about “the wisdom that comes from heaven” (NIV)? He certainly had a ringside seat of wisdom personified for about 30 years.

That makes being persuadable a vital component of Christlikeness—something we should all be aiming at!

Mark Loughridge

Mark pastors 2 churches in the Republic of Ireland. He is married with three daughters. Before entering the ministry he studied architecture. He enjoys open water swimming, design, and watching rugby.

Posted at: https://gentlereformation.com/2020/07/25/the-elusive-trait-of-reasonableness/

What to Do When the Pain of Others Overwhelms You

By: Andrea Lee

Toxic empathy is disorienting. On one occasion, when my anguish over the suffering of others flooded out to a friend, she said, “Who died and gave you a Junior God badge?”

Gulp.

My emotional response to suffering in the lives of other people had unmoored me from biblical bearings. I was adrift in a sea of sorrow and was overwhelmed. Empathy is a good gift that can go terribly wrong: people with sensitive consciences, vivid imaginations, and caring hearts are often plunged from compassion to poisonous despair by the suffering of others. How does this happen and what can we do about it?

First, a word of clarification: this article is meant to give hope and balance to those who want to respond to suffering in a Christ-like way by highlighting a danger of empathy. In calling attention to this danger, I don’t want to minimize the calling believers have to demonstrate incredible compassion, patience, love, and wisdom to those who are struggling. We can be heartbroken for the suffering of others while praying with hope and clinging to the truth that God’s grace is sufficient for every trial.

Now, let’s cover some definitions and descriptions. According to the Cambridge Dictionary, empathy is “the ability to share someone else’s feelings or experiences by imagining what it would be like to be in that person’s situation.”[1] It’s as if you are experiencing the pain of another person yourself.[2] This idea of sharing the pain of another is certainly a biblical concept, although the Bible uses words like “compassion” and “sympathy.” Sympathy is the feeling of pity and grief for the plight of another, while compassion is being moved to action and kindness in order to relieve suffering. Jesus powerfully embodied heartfelt action in the face of pain. Jesus’ willingness to feel our weaknesses (Heb. 4:15) and His sorrow for our condition (Heb. 2:18) moved Him to act in kindness to relieve our greatest problem (Eph. 2:4).

The New Testament clearly charges followers of Christ to be tenderhearted. We are to “weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15) and to “put on…compassionate hearts and kindness” (Col. 3:12). We have the example and power of Jesus, who is full of compassion and mercy (Matt. 9:36; 15:32). The conclusion we might draw is that the temptation for most believers is to care too little, not too much, when others suffer. But for some people, caring deeply takes them to a place of paralyzing despair.

What Does This Despair Feel Like?

When our empathy becomes suffocating, the pain is all we feel. We only see horror and brokenness in the world. As Joe Rigney, Professor at Bethlehem Bible says, destructive empathy is “a total immersion into the pain, sorrow, and suffering of the afflicted.” [3] There is a subtle twist in our thinking: “The more I’m overwhelmed by your pain, the more I really care,” or, “Unless I am undone by your suffering, I must not be compassionate.” Or even more insidious, “I refuse to experience peace or joy (the fruit of the Spirit) while you are suffering.”

To be clear, empathy is not the problem. The problem is the belief that we are best representing God by being overwhelmed by suffering. We are to “weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15) and “rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer” (Rom. 12:12). When we can’t, our emotions may be calling the shots more than our faith. Here’s the issue in a nutshell: “When we overidentify with our emotions, we begin to distort our perspective on reality.”[4] So instead of letting pain take over our entire spiritual landscape, we must keep our spiritual footing. Only by keeping the big picture in view can we help our hurting friends.

How Do We Keep Our Spiritual Footing in the Face of Suffering?

Let’s look at Paul’s experience in Romans 9. The Apostle is remarkably open about his deep empathy: he has “great sorrow and unceasing anguish” in his heart. He even wishes that he could exchange places with his Jewish brothers (Rom. 9:3). This is compassion, sympathy, and empathy of the highest order. Other people’s rebellion and rejection of God troubled him immensely. And yet, it did not immobilize him. Paul keeps God’s Word, God’s mercy, and God’s sovereignty firmly in view. By doing so, he is able to maintain his spiritual equilibrium in the flood of anguish he experiences.

God’s Word 

Romans 9:6 says, “But it is not as though the word of God has failed.” Paul is addressing what some people thought to be God’s failure to keep the promises He made to Israel. These people didn’t realize that the children of God are children of the promise, not children of the flesh (physical descendants of Abraham). The point for those struggling with toxic empathy is this: the aching in Paul’s heart did not cause him to minimize or sideline God’s Word. Paul refuses to let his grief claim his soul.[5] He sees God’s glory and purposes as bigger than the pain of sin and suffering, even when those he cares about deeply are the ones hurting.

God’s Mercy 

Paul goes on to talk about a difficult truth in Romans 9:6-12: God chooses not according to works, but because of His sovereign will. Paul proclaims how this truth highlights God’s mercy. In the swirl of empathic emotion, we are tempted to forget that God is merciful and just. Paul seems to shout, “What shall we say then? Is there injustice on God’s part? By no means!” (Rom. 9:14). The paralyzing effect of toxic empathy often starts here. Without realizing it, we descend into a fog that insists God isn’t doing a very good job. This is where my friend’s quip about the Junior God badge comes in.

When we are wearing this badge, we think, “I could run the world better…This suffering is unbearable…It’s all up to me to fix this…It’s my responsibility to make this better NOW…How could a good God let this happen? How can I live in a world where things like this can happen?” We feel ready to cast judgment on the way God is running the world because the suffering overwhelms us. But God is not unjust! The Judge of all the Earth will do what is right (Gen. 18:25). In our turmoil, we forget that pain and suffering serve God’s glorious purposes. We forget that followers of Christ do not get what they deserve. (These are truths you must remember to keep your spiritual footing, not things you proclaim to your hurting friend.)

God’s Sovereignty

In his contemplation of the worst suffering a human can face (an eternity apart from God), Paul clings to God’s sovereignty. The words still shock my sensibilities when I read them: “But who are you, O Man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ Has the potter no right over the clay?” (Rom. 9:20-21). Acknowledging God’s sovereignty will actually deepen our compassion, not lessen it, while at the same time keeping us focused on God’s perfect purposes. Toxic empathy says, “I am overcome by the suffering of others.” Godly empathy says, “I am burdened, and my heart is deeply affected by the trials of others. But God is so powerful that He uses even suffering to accomplish His glorious purposes. I can trust Him—with myself and with those near me.”

Ultimately, the emotions generated by empathy are meant to move us. We must run to the only One strong enough to carry the pain. Isaiah 53:3b calls our Savior “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” who “surely bore our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Isa. 53:4). God Himself, in Jesus Christ, took on the pain and punishment we deserve for being rebels to His Kingship. We must cast our burdens (including the burden of our pain for others) onto the Lord Jesus, lest we sink beneath those burdens.

We must also move toward others in their pain. If we don’t know how to handle the deep emotions of empathy, we may distance ourselves from suffering. This is precisely the opposite response that Jesus intends His followers to have. We are to move toward others, not because we are sufficient to remedy their pain, but because we know the Savior can comfort them.

We can rest in the place Paul found his peace—in worship. “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever” (Rom. 11:33, 36).

Question for Reflection

What passages help you to keep your spiritual footing in the face of suffering?

[1] Cambridge University Press, “Empathy,” https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/empathy, accessed January 7, 2020.

[2] Merriam Webster, “Empathy,” https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/empathy, accessed January 6, 2020.

[3] Joe Rigney, “The Enticing Sin of Empathy,” Desiring God,  https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-enticing-sin-of-empathy, accessed January 6, 2020.

[4] Alasdair Groves and Winston Smith, Untangling Emotions (Wheaton: Crossway, 2019), 140.

[5] Ibid., 141.

About the Author

Andrea Lee serves as a biblical counselor for women at Mount Vernon Baptist Church in Atlanta, GA. She has a Masters of Arts in Biblical Counseling from The Masters University. Andrea has been married to her husband, Darien, since 2006.

Posted at: https://www.biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/2020/02/10/what-to-do-when-the-pain-of-others-overwhelms-you/

“God’s Hand Is Intimately Mixed Up in Our Troubles”

Paul Tautges

The title of this blog post was created by David Powlison, a friend and mentor who entered eternal Glory last summer. This statement first appears within the second sentence of the Introduction to David’s book, God’s Grace in Your Suffering. The context is this:

Job, his wife, and his three friends agreed on two things. Our lives are “few of days and full of trouble” (Job 14:1), and God’s hand is intimately mixed up in our troubles. But strife and perplexity set in among them when they tried to explain exactly how God and troubles connected.

David goes on to mention a few of the ways these three friends argued about the cause of Job’s troubles, which are still ways people argue today. Then he shows how Job’s encounter with his Redeemer changed him forever (Job 42:5).

But (praise God!), “we see even more clearly. From where we stand, we see Jesus Christ. We see more of who the Redeemer is. We see more of how he did it. We say more than Job could say: “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 4:6). We see. But our lives are still “few of days and full of trouble.”

Three Sweeping Truths

David then gives to us three sweeping truths we need to understand and embrace, in order to experience the fullness of God’s goodness and grace in our suffering.

1. It is obvious from both Scripture and experience that God never established a no-fly zone keeping all problems away. “He never promises that your life will be safe, easy, peaceful, healthy, and prosperous. On the contrary, you and I are certain to experience danger, hardship, turmoil, ill health, and loss….We cannot read God’s favor or disfavor by assessing how troubled a person’s life is.”

2. It is obvious from Scripture and experience that we also sample joys and good gifts from God’s hand. “There are no guarantees of any particular earthly good, but all good gifts may be gratefully enjoyed….We cannot read God’s favor or disfavor by assessing how troubled a person’s life is.”

3. It’s obvious from Scripture–and it can become deeply rooted in experience–that God speaks and acts through affliction. “Suffering is both the acid test and the catalyst [for growing our faith]. It also exposes and destroys counterfeit faith. Afflictions expose illusory hopes invested in imaginary gods. Such disillusionment is a good thing, a severe mercy. The destruction of what is false invites repentance and faith in God as he truly is. Suffering brings a foretaste of the loss of every good thing for those who profess no faith in the one Savior of the world, God’s inexpressible gift, the Lifegiver….We can read God’s favor or disfavor by noticing how a person responds to affliction.”

If you are going through a valley of suffering, or you want to grow in your understanding of God’s good purposes in suffering, I highly recommend you get and read this little book.

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/07/21/gods-hand-is-intimately-mixed-up-in-our-troubles/