C.A. Clark's Blog
December 16, 2024
It's Not What It Seems
Ever experienced a deep, intense longing for something-- a longing that fills up your very soul? Maybe it's to (finally) meet that "special" person and get married. Maybe it's to have a child. Maybe it's have a house that actually feels like a home. That career advancement. Or any dream that is still just out of reach-- whether by a hair or by miles.
I have experienced this, many times-- in different ways, over different things. And the longer the wait, the more painful the longing can become. In such moments, I'm amazed at how easily the deadly sin of comparison sneaks in, quietly settling into my thoughts. Maybe it's the happy news I just heard from a friend. Maybe it's scrolling through social media, and seeing all the glowing smiles from photos, posted alongside someone's latest highlight reel. And the temptation is to give place to envy-- perhaps, even bitter jealousy-- especially when I am comparing other's "have's" to my own "have-not's". When I start thinking about all of the times that I prayed so fervently... only to see someone else receive the blessing that I was tearfully beseeching God for. In such moments, it doesn't just seem like Life is unfair. It can start to seem that even God is unfair (or at least that He has favorites). And I find myself asking,
"Why? Why did You bless them, but not me? Don't You see my tears?... Don't You care at all?"
...But.. if I can manage to take a step back from the surging sea of emotions tumbling over me, I begin to notice other things... things which I am (regretfully) guilty of taking for-granted... Things that I have, which someone else out there might be desperately wishing and praying for-- perhaps, even the person I just secretly envied. Because the hard truth is, just as others have received blessings that I desire, I also have received blessings that are in someone else's whispered, heartfelt prayers.
None of us are only in one category or the other-- none of us are only ever "the Lucky Ones", and none of us are only ever the Unlucky, the Unseen, and the Unpicked. Take a look at each of the (very real) scenarios listed below:
A shy, lonely woman at Church sees another woman seemingly effortlessly engaged in conversation and smiling with others, and feels the sting of envy over how confident the other woman appears, and the way that she so easily chats with others. The first woman might even find herself making the bitter comparison, "She doesn't come over and talk to me like that. Guess I'm not popular enough and she just doesn't like me." Later on, she sees the "social butterfly" smiling and greeting people at Church. But she dismisses her as superficial, and irritably hurries past her. What she doesn't know, is that the other woman is secretly struggling just to show up while privately going through a season of deep personal pain. Like her, the other woman also feels alone, surrounded by a milling crowd of people who don't really know her. She just tries hard not to show it, and to "fake it till she makes it".
The young woman with the buoyant smile full of cheerful enthusiasm is caring for her mother in declining health, after burying her father. On the surface, nothing appears to phase her, and few know what it cost her to become so strong while still choosing to keep a tender, trusting heart that isn't poisoned by bitterness, cynicism and doubt.
A single woman sees photos on social media of her married friend enjoying (yet another) romantic date with her husband, and feels a twinge of envy that she herself hasn't had so much as a date in years... What she doesn't know, is that the married woman and her husband have been struggling for a long time, and every day has been a battle. They might have even argued on their way to the venue. They are literally doing everything they can to try and breathe life and romance back into their marriage, and to keep the ship from sinking. And there are moments when her married friend secretly envies her for the freedom she still has in choosing a life-partner.
The childless married couple see the young woman who got pregnant out of wedlock, and wonder why God permitted that much desired blessing to go to someone so immature, irresponsible, and lacking in godliness and years, when they themselves have been trying and praying for years... What they don't know, is how much the unwed single mother envies their stable, loving relationship, hoping and praying that some day, she too will be so similarly blessed... They also don't know that her road ahead will include years and years that will be long, hard, lonely, and acutely painful at times... and there will be moments when that precious child born out of wedlock will be the only thing that keeps her going and helps her make it through another day.
The married couple with children and financial struggles see their childless friends going on vacation... again. And the wife feels the sting of envy. They never even had a honeymoon, and she always dreamed of traveling. Now, it seems as if her friend is living the life that she wanted (if only in part). But that same childless couple would give anything to be able to have children of their own, even if it meant trading in their cards as globe-trotters, and adapting to the financial stresses that accompany raising a family.
Another couple with only one child envy the couple with many, while forgetting that there are those who would be thrilled and content with only the one.
A husband or wife is embittered against the faults, idiosyncrasies, or weight-gain of the other, and forgets that there are many individuals out there who would love to have their spouse (or any spouse at all)--worts, irritating habits and all. So they continue on with the harping, barbed comments, condescension and emotional withdrawal until their spouse becomes too discouraged to continue on any more, and a hungry by-stander on the side plucks them up out of their long-standing misery.
A middle-aged home-maker with many children sees her friend having her dream house built on a lovely piece of property. Meanwhile, her living space is cramped and squalid, while her own husband is working hard to provide for their large family and complete their own home renovations, which is taking YEARS... What she doesn't know is that in just a few short years down the road, the friend with the perfect home will develop cancer and eventually die, without hardly getting time to enjoy her beautiful home, along with her family.
A woman who has struggled with weight issues, poor body image and insecurities feels envy towards her younger, more attractive (and skinnier) friend. She doesn't know that her friend is no more "lucky in love" than she is, nor that her "skinniness" is the result of stomach issues stemming from acute traumas she has suffered. The "fluffier" woman also doesn't know that "Barbie" will end up having plenty more of heartbreak and love lost, before all is said and done. Because in the end (and contrary to the popular myths we all tend to believe), happiness and fulfillment in life has little to do with looks.
A tall, hunky college pastor and his super-model wife frequently turn heads everywhere they go, and are the secret envy of many all around them. But what no one can foresee, is that after a decade of marriage the young pastor will succumb to pornography and sex addictions, and abandon his beautiful wife and children to heartbreak and financial losses. After a few more years of struggle, she will die of cancer by the time she is in her mid 30's, leaving behind her grieving children and new husband.
A married couple share their love-story, that reads like a Hallmark movie to everyone else around them... What they omitted were the long, painful chapters of their marriage that were filled with fighting, selfishness, emotional separateness and isolation, financial struggle, unfulfilled dreams, addiction, and infidelity-- from which they are now trying to heal and make the best of the broken pieces that are left. No matter how good it may look on the outside, no one ever has a perfect love-story that is completely free from pain. Every single one of us are sinners, and the people we marry are sinners too (shocker).
A woman who is struggling through the pain, trauma, and bitter torment of her husband's betrayal struggles through the long months and years that it will take to repair both the broken trust and the mangled relationship. Some days, she's not sure if she can make it. Meanwhile, a friend of hers is going through the same pain-- but she is going through it alone, because her husband chose to leave her. And she would give anything to be able to have him and his love back, even with all the ugly baggage attached.
A hurting, angry woman fires off an accusing, wounding message to her Pastor's wife, calling her fake and uncaring for not being there for her. What she doesn't know, is that that Pastor's wife is dealing with pain of her own, related to her marriage, her children, and external pressures surrounding her. She is trying hard to stay afloat and handle life as best as she can, and doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to handle one more need or problem.
A pastor with a powerful anointing and a thriving, packed Church becomes the envy of other ministry leaders, who have been trying to attract Church growth for years. But every Sunday morning is a battle for him, as he gets sick to his stomach before preaching. His anointing stems from his brokenness--a brokenness few would envy--and learning what it is to live with a thorn in the flesh, and accepting the fact that God's grace is enough.
A woman confides the hurts and abuses of her marriage to a male acquaintance, who is himself married. He attentively listens to her and offers good advice. She starts to become reliant upon his emotional support. She also starts to look down upon his wife, who doesn't seem to properly appreciate his finer qualities, and starts to fantasize about taking her place in his affections. What she doesn't realize is that the kind man she is pouring her heart out to is not necessarily emotionally present for his wife. Worse, there may have been severe abuses within the relationship, which attribute to the wife's lack of "appreciation". And in the same way that he listens attentively to her, he also listens to other women-- and the grateful validation he receives from all of them serves to bolster his self-assurance that his marital problems really are just his wife's fault. It's easy to appear as a paragon of love and wisdom for people who don't actually know who we really are behind closed doors, nor how difficult we might be to live with. If the other woman knew the other side of the story, she would feel very foolish indeed for her misguided attraction and admiration of the married man she has been dwelling on. She might even feel sorry for the wife, and quickly come to realize how good her own "flawed" marriage is in comparison.
A tired out woman feels frustration over her continued struggles to achieve a dream career she has striven hard over throughout the years-- one that would finally launch her into financial freedom. Another woman of her acquaintance is dealing with similar setbacks and dreams put on hold, only for different reasons: their bank account is being drained for her child's cancer treatments, and the outlook is grim. She can't even remember what it is to dream anymore. All that she cares about and wants in all the world is for her child to be well and live. She would readily embrace the frustrations and financial difficulties of the other woman, even count it a sheer joy--if she could just see her child healthy, running, and laughing again.
A generous, kind, hard-working older couple with a successful business live in a custom-built home that is the envy of all their friends. What few know about are the years of scrimping, saving, and depravation that they went through together, in which they learned to be content with little, trust in the LORD, act with integrity and be faithful in the small things.
A well respected, faithful woman in ministry is envied for the anointing she has and the notoriety and attention she receives. Other women envy her strength, courage, and fortitude-- yet not everyone knows of all the pain that she has had to endure, after she buried a child or husband, or watched her husband or child succumb to an addiction and leave the faith. Few know of the excruciating nights of her soul when she found herself groping about in the dark with her own unanswered questions, and that the reason why she learned to become strong in the LORD was because she came to a place where God was all that she had. Of all of those who might envy her, very few would be willing to trade places with her, nor to walk the lonely, pain-filled path that she has had to walk.
The scenarios I've listed above are ones are not hypotheticals-- they are very real. Snippets cut from the fabric of my life, and the lives of others whom I have known. The reality of life, is that no one has it easy. No one. It's easy to see the blessings and accomplishments of others through rose-colored glasses, if we have never glimpsed more closely at their sorrows. It's easy to see only a sunny garden of flowers, but not the tombstones that are hidden there. And it's easy to see the (seeming) carefree smiles of others, and mistakenly believe that such individuals (whether singles, couples, or families) truly are without a care. And just like that, we begin erecting walls of division that fuel our own self-pity, as we believe that, not only are we all alone in our suffering, but that perhaps we even have it worse than others.
Deuteronomy 29:29 says, “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things which are revealed and disclosed belong to us and to our children forever, so that we may do all of the words of this law."
In life, there will always be unanswered questions. And the deadly, ugly sin of envious Comparison will never be helpful, nor assist us with finding answers. Yet, if we are not careful, we can allow it to blind us with its illusions and mirages.
After Jesus Christ returned to His Disciples as the resurrected LORD, He told Peter that he would have to suffer for him. Ironically, Peter's very first response was to look at John, and demand of Jesus:
"But what about him?" In other words, "LORD, if You are going to allow me to suffer, are You going to let him get off easy? Are You going to play favorites, and is he going to be blessed while I have it hard?"
Jesus responded by politely (but flatly) instructing Peter to mind his own business and simply follow Him (see John 21:18-22). Peter did end up suffering greatly for Christ, and his life ended in martyrdom. What he could not have known was that John's chosen lot of suffering would be even worse. Thankfully, Peter made the choice to surrender to Christ's Lordship and did not allow unanswered questions, jealousy, and comparison to derail him in his own calling and ministry.
When Martha got caught up in comparing herself with her sister, Mary, Jesus gave her this gentle admonition:
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord replied, “you are worried and upset about many things. But only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, and it will not be taken away from her.”
(--Luke 10:41)
The next time I feel tempted to look at someone else who appears to be doing well and mistakenly think that their life is all sunshine and roses, I pray that God would give me the grace to refrain from the bitter, ugly sin of comparison. Things are rarely as wonderful as they seem. Nor will dark nights remain forever. How God chooses to act and bless in the life of another is none of my business. What is my business is seeking out what God Himself would reveal to me regarding His will and purposes, in the midst of my pain and struggles. That is my portion, which will not be taken away from me. That is where I find sacred intimacy and holy communion with my Savior. And the things that He teaches me in the midst of suffering--or in times of blessing-- these are the legacy that I am meant to pass on; these are the things that will not be taken away from me, and which belong to me and to my children after me, forever-- passed down from generation to generation: Lessons of how the Sacred meets with pain in the midst of the mundane, in a gently woven tapestry of Grace.
--C.A. CLARK
Copyright (c)
I have experienced this, many times-- in different ways, over different things. And the longer the wait, the more painful the longing can become. In such moments, I'm amazed at how easily the deadly sin of comparison sneaks in, quietly settling into my thoughts. Maybe it's the happy news I just heard from a friend. Maybe it's scrolling through social media, and seeing all the glowing smiles from photos, posted alongside someone's latest highlight reel. And the temptation is to give place to envy-- perhaps, even bitter jealousy-- especially when I am comparing other's "have's" to my own "have-not's". When I start thinking about all of the times that I prayed so fervently... only to see someone else receive the blessing that I was tearfully beseeching God for. In such moments, it doesn't just seem like Life is unfair. It can start to seem that even God is unfair (or at least that He has favorites). And I find myself asking,
"Why? Why did You bless them, but not me? Don't You see my tears?... Don't You care at all?"
...But.. if I can manage to take a step back from the surging sea of emotions tumbling over me, I begin to notice other things... things which I am (regretfully) guilty of taking for-granted... Things that I have, which someone else out there might be desperately wishing and praying for-- perhaps, even the person I just secretly envied. Because the hard truth is, just as others have received blessings that I desire, I also have received blessings that are in someone else's whispered, heartfelt prayers.
None of us are only in one category or the other-- none of us are only ever "the Lucky Ones", and none of us are only ever the Unlucky, the Unseen, and the Unpicked. Take a look at each of the (very real) scenarios listed below:
A shy, lonely woman at Church sees another woman seemingly effortlessly engaged in conversation and smiling with others, and feels the sting of envy over how confident the other woman appears, and the way that she so easily chats with others. The first woman might even find herself making the bitter comparison, "She doesn't come over and talk to me like that. Guess I'm not popular enough and she just doesn't like me." Later on, she sees the "social butterfly" smiling and greeting people at Church. But she dismisses her as superficial, and irritably hurries past her. What she doesn't know, is that the other woman is secretly struggling just to show up while privately going through a season of deep personal pain. Like her, the other woman also feels alone, surrounded by a milling crowd of people who don't really know her. She just tries hard not to show it, and to "fake it till she makes it".
The young woman with the buoyant smile full of cheerful enthusiasm is caring for her mother in declining health, after burying her father. On the surface, nothing appears to phase her, and few know what it cost her to become so strong while still choosing to keep a tender, trusting heart that isn't poisoned by bitterness, cynicism and doubt.
A single woman sees photos on social media of her married friend enjoying (yet another) romantic date with her husband, and feels a twinge of envy that she herself hasn't had so much as a date in years... What she doesn't know, is that the married woman and her husband have been struggling for a long time, and every day has been a battle. They might have even argued on their way to the venue. They are literally doing everything they can to try and breathe life and romance back into their marriage, and to keep the ship from sinking. And there are moments when her married friend secretly envies her for the freedom she still has in choosing a life-partner.
The childless married couple see the young woman who got pregnant out of wedlock, and wonder why God permitted that much desired blessing to go to someone so immature, irresponsible, and lacking in godliness and years, when they themselves have been trying and praying for years... What they don't know, is how much the unwed single mother envies their stable, loving relationship, hoping and praying that some day, she too will be so similarly blessed... They also don't know that her road ahead will include years and years that will be long, hard, lonely, and acutely painful at times... and there will be moments when that precious child born out of wedlock will be the only thing that keeps her going and helps her make it through another day.
The married couple with children and financial struggles see their childless friends going on vacation... again. And the wife feels the sting of envy. They never even had a honeymoon, and she always dreamed of traveling. Now, it seems as if her friend is living the life that she wanted (if only in part). But that same childless couple would give anything to be able to have children of their own, even if it meant trading in their cards as globe-trotters, and adapting to the financial stresses that accompany raising a family.
Another couple with only one child envy the couple with many, while forgetting that there are those who would be thrilled and content with only the one.
A husband or wife is embittered against the faults, idiosyncrasies, or weight-gain of the other, and forgets that there are many individuals out there who would love to have their spouse (or any spouse at all)--worts, irritating habits and all. So they continue on with the harping, barbed comments, condescension and emotional withdrawal until their spouse becomes too discouraged to continue on any more, and a hungry by-stander on the side plucks them up out of their long-standing misery.
A middle-aged home-maker with many children sees her friend having her dream house built on a lovely piece of property. Meanwhile, her living space is cramped and squalid, while her own husband is working hard to provide for their large family and complete their own home renovations, which is taking YEARS... What she doesn't know is that in just a few short years down the road, the friend with the perfect home will develop cancer and eventually die, without hardly getting time to enjoy her beautiful home, along with her family.
A woman who has struggled with weight issues, poor body image and insecurities feels envy towards her younger, more attractive (and skinnier) friend. She doesn't know that her friend is no more "lucky in love" than she is, nor that her "skinniness" is the result of stomach issues stemming from acute traumas she has suffered. The "fluffier" woman also doesn't know that "Barbie" will end up having plenty more of heartbreak and love lost, before all is said and done. Because in the end (and contrary to the popular myths we all tend to believe), happiness and fulfillment in life has little to do with looks.
A tall, hunky college pastor and his super-model wife frequently turn heads everywhere they go, and are the secret envy of many all around them. But what no one can foresee, is that after a decade of marriage the young pastor will succumb to pornography and sex addictions, and abandon his beautiful wife and children to heartbreak and financial losses. After a few more years of struggle, she will die of cancer by the time she is in her mid 30's, leaving behind her grieving children and new husband.
A married couple share their love-story, that reads like a Hallmark movie to everyone else around them... What they omitted were the long, painful chapters of their marriage that were filled with fighting, selfishness, emotional separateness and isolation, financial struggle, unfulfilled dreams, addiction, and infidelity-- from which they are now trying to heal and make the best of the broken pieces that are left. No matter how good it may look on the outside, no one ever has a perfect love-story that is completely free from pain. Every single one of us are sinners, and the people we marry are sinners too (shocker).
A woman who is struggling through the pain, trauma, and bitter torment of her husband's betrayal struggles through the long months and years that it will take to repair both the broken trust and the mangled relationship. Some days, she's not sure if she can make it. Meanwhile, a friend of hers is going through the same pain-- but she is going through it alone, because her husband chose to leave her. And she would give anything to be able to have him and his love back, even with all the ugly baggage attached.
A hurting, angry woman fires off an accusing, wounding message to her Pastor's wife, calling her fake and uncaring for not being there for her. What she doesn't know, is that that Pastor's wife is dealing with pain of her own, related to her marriage, her children, and external pressures surrounding her. She is trying hard to stay afloat and handle life as best as she can, and doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to handle one more need or problem.
A pastor with a powerful anointing and a thriving, packed Church becomes the envy of other ministry leaders, who have been trying to attract Church growth for years. But every Sunday morning is a battle for him, as he gets sick to his stomach before preaching. His anointing stems from his brokenness--a brokenness few would envy--and learning what it is to live with a thorn in the flesh, and accepting the fact that God's grace is enough.
A woman confides the hurts and abuses of her marriage to a male acquaintance, who is himself married. He attentively listens to her and offers good advice. She starts to become reliant upon his emotional support. She also starts to look down upon his wife, who doesn't seem to properly appreciate his finer qualities, and starts to fantasize about taking her place in his affections. What she doesn't realize is that the kind man she is pouring her heart out to is not necessarily emotionally present for his wife. Worse, there may have been severe abuses within the relationship, which attribute to the wife's lack of "appreciation". And in the same way that he listens attentively to her, he also listens to other women-- and the grateful validation he receives from all of them serves to bolster his self-assurance that his marital problems really are just his wife's fault. It's easy to appear as a paragon of love and wisdom for people who don't actually know who we really are behind closed doors, nor how difficult we might be to live with. If the other woman knew the other side of the story, she would feel very foolish indeed for her misguided attraction and admiration of the married man she has been dwelling on. She might even feel sorry for the wife, and quickly come to realize how good her own "flawed" marriage is in comparison.
A tired out woman feels frustration over her continued struggles to achieve a dream career she has striven hard over throughout the years-- one that would finally launch her into financial freedom. Another woman of her acquaintance is dealing with similar setbacks and dreams put on hold, only for different reasons: their bank account is being drained for her child's cancer treatments, and the outlook is grim. She can't even remember what it is to dream anymore. All that she cares about and wants in all the world is for her child to be well and live. She would readily embrace the frustrations and financial difficulties of the other woman, even count it a sheer joy--if she could just see her child healthy, running, and laughing again.
A generous, kind, hard-working older couple with a successful business live in a custom-built home that is the envy of all their friends. What few know about are the years of scrimping, saving, and depravation that they went through together, in which they learned to be content with little, trust in the LORD, act with integrity and be faithful in the small things.
A well respected, faithful woman in ministry is envied for the anointing she has and the notoriety and attention she receives. Other women envy her strength, courage, and fortitude-- yet not everyone knows of all the pain that she has had to endure, after she buried a child or husband, or watched her husband or child succumb to an addiction and leave the faith. Few know of the excruciating nights of her soul when she found herself groping about in the dark with her own unanswered questions, and that the reason why she learned to become strong in the LORD was because she came to a place where God was all that she had. Of all of those who might envy her, very few would be willing to trade places with her, nor to walk the lonely, pain-filled path that she has had to walk.
The scenarios I've listed above are ones are not hypotheticals-- they are very real. Snippets cut from the fabric of my life, and the lives of others whom I have known. The reality of life, is that no one has it easy. No one. It's easy to see the blessings and accomplishments of others through rose-colored glasses, if we have never glimpsed more closely at their sorrows. It's easy to see only a sunny garden of flowers, but not the tombstones that are hidden there. And it's easy to see the (seeming) carefree smiles of others, and mistakenly believe that such individuals (whether singles, couples, or families) truly are without a care. And just like that, we begin erecting walls of division that fuel our own self-pity, as we believe that, not only are we all alone in our suffering, but that perhaps we even have it worse than others.
Deuteronomy 29:29 says, “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things which are revealed and disclosed belong to us and to our children forever, so that we may do all of the words of this law."
In life, there will always be unanswered questions. And the deadly, ugly sin of envious Comparison will never be helpful, nor assist us with finding answers. Yet, if we are not careful, we can allow it to blind us with its illusions and mirages.
After Jesus Christ returned to His Disciples as the resurrected LORD, He told Peter that he would have to suffer for him. Ironically, Peter's very first response was to look at John, and demand of Jesus:
"But what about him?" In other words, "LORD, if You are going to allow me to suffer, are You going to let him get off easy? Are You going to play favorites, and is he going to be blessed while I have it hard?"
Jesus responded by politely (but flatly) instructing Peter to mind his own business and simply follow Him (see John 21:18-22). Peter did end up suffering greatly for Christ, and his life ended in martyrdom. What he could not have known was that John's chosen lot of suffering would be even worse. Thankfully, Peter made the choice to surrender to Christ's Lordship and did not allow unanswered questions, jealousy, and comparison to derail him in his own calling and ministry.
When Martha got caught up in comparing herself with her sister, Mary, Jesus gave her this gentle admonition:
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord replied, “you are worried and upset about many things. But only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, and it will not be taken away from her.”
(--Luke 10:41)
The next time I feel tempted to look at someone else who appears to be doing well and mistakenly think that their life is all sunshine and roses, I pray that God would give me the grace to refrain from the bitter, ugly sin of comparison. Things are rarely as wonderful as they seem. Nor will dark nights remain forever. How God chooses to act and bless in the life of another is none of my business. What is my business is seeking out what God Himself would reveal to me regarding His will and purposes, in the midst of my pain and struggles. That is my portion, which will not be taken away from me. That is where I find sacred intimacy and holy communion with my Savior. And the things that He teaches me in the midst of suffering--or in times of blessing-- these are the legacy that I am meant to pass on; these are the things that will not be taken away from me, and which belong to me and to my children after me, forever-- passed down from generation to generation: Lessons of how the Sacred meets with pain in the midst of the mundane, in a gently woven tapestry of Grace.
--C.A. CLARK
Copyright (c)
May 22, 2024
When God Seems Cruel...
...For months in the aftermath of my most heart-breaking life experience, I tried to keep things lighthearted for my Daughter. To make sure that she knew that everything was going to be okay, and to get her day off to a good start with a laugh and a warm smile. ... And save any tears for AFTER I'd dropped her off at school. There were many times, when all I could do was offer up a broken Hallelujah. To worship through my deep pain and my tears. To choose to declare the Promises from God's Word as being absolute, faithful, and true-- in the midst of a heart-rending reality that had stripped me of everything, and which had seen my faith shaken to its very core. To CHOOSE to believe that God DID STILL have good plans for me... That He was there with me, whether I could feel Him or not, and even if it felt that I was sitting alone in the darkness of an eternal Night of the Soul.
One morning when I got home, I opened my Bible, and immediately found myself in the Book of Lamentations... Now, I'm going to be honest-- I've never been particularly keen to read this book-- the title itself says it all. It just seems depressing (really depressing!). But on this particular day, the words on the pages ministered to my broken, grieving soul. Lamentations is the book penned by Jeremiah "The Weeping Prophet", as he lamented and mourned the destruction of Jerusalem, and witnessed his people taken away captive to a foreign land. He also mourns the utter depravity and hardness of heart of his people, despite all the warnings they had received. In response to his tearful pleas for them to turn to God, however, they had persecuted him ruthlessly-- even throwing him into a well (in which, he records, he nearly drowned), and abandoning him there to die.
The Book of Lamentations describe in detail Jeremiah's anguish of heart and his utter despair, as he is faced with trial after trial, and heartache upon heartache. So much so, that Jeremiah even begins to believe that God Himself is against him. In his pain and confusion (Jeremiah HAD, after all, sacrificed everything in order to be faithfully obedient to God), he begins to accuse God of heartless cruelty towards him. He sees God as intentionally bringing him to a point of utter ruin and desolation; of mortally wounding him; and of abandoning him without hope, to be lost in the blinding darkness and deafening confusion of the soul. It seemed he had obeyed God, only to find that God had rewarded him by using him as a sacrificial pawn.
...I wonder if Jeremiah lived in modern times, what sort of response he would be met with by other Christians and Church leadership? How many would be quick to respond with cliches and pat answers? How many more would rebuke him for entertaining such dark feelings, and for daring to accuse God? How many would find his unbelief completely heretical, not to mention utterly shocking and appalling? Faith & Prosperity Gospel Teachers would tell him that he was in that bleak and desperate situation as a consequence for (what must surely be) his own lack of faith and obedience to God... One thing is very sure: the words Jeremiah penned were most certainly NOT the sort of thing that any faithful Believer says out loud, nor would they ever dare be uttered within the walls of a Church.
And I found myself wondering: why did God permit Jeremiah-- not only to write such things-- but to have such bold and audacious accusations against Himself actually included within cannonized Scripture? We do not see God responding-- either to defend and explain Himself, or to rebuke and silence Jeremiah... It's as if God is quietly sitting there, listening, and giving His broken-hearted prophet the freedom to grieve, doubt, and vent. I believe that God allowed for Jeremiah to pen such words, so that we too could find comfort in knowing that we are not alone in our moments of greatest doubt and despair. That other great men and women of God have been faced with devastating and life-altering circumstances, and that even the most faithful have been tempted to question God-- His power, His faithfulness, His love, and His good plans for the lives He has made. God was not disturbed or disquieted by Jeremiah's unbelief. He was not angered, hurt, or disappointed... It's as if He simply sat in silence beside Jeremiah, and, like a good Friend, allowed him to freely grieve and pour out the inner turmoil of his heart. Without interruption, without challenge, without rebuttal, without remonstrance... He simply let Jeremiah grieve. And, in the midst of grieving and wondering out loud where God was, Jeremiah eventually finds his way back to faith. He recalls to mind the faithfulness of God. And he chooses yet again-- hope against hope-- to trust in God.
The next time someone you know is going through circumstances they cannot wrap their psyches around and are voicing their agonizing question of, "Where is God?", remember this: God is not disturbed by their questioning, and He doesn't call you to be disturbed, either. He is big enough to handle their doubt. Love them like JESUS. Sit quietly beside them, and listen to their grieving hearts. God is powerful enough to help them find their lost faith again, and He will be faithful to guide them back into the safety of His loving arms.
--C.A. CLARK
One morning when I got home, I opened my Bible, and immediately found myself in the Book of Lamentations... Now, I'm going to be honest-- I've never been particularly keen to read this book-- the title itself says it all. It just seems depressing (really depressing!). But on this particular day, the words on the pages ministered to my broken, grieving soul. Lamentations is the book penned by Jeremiah "The Weeping Prophet", as he lamented and mourned the destruction of Jerusalem, and witnessed his people taken away captive to a foreign land. He also mourns the utter depravity and hardness of heart of his people, despite all the warnings they had received. In response to his tearful pleas for them to turn to God, however, they had persecuted him ruthlessly-- even throwing him into a well (in which, he records, he nearly drowned), and abandoning him there to die.
The Book of Lamentations describe in detail Jeremiah's anguish of heart and his utter despair, as he is faced with trial after trial, and heartache upon heartache. So much so, that Jeremiah even begins to believe that God Himself is against him. In his pain and confusion (Jeremiah HAD, after all, sacrificed everything in order to be faithfully obedient to God), he begins to accuse God of heartless cruelty towards him. He sees God as intentionally bringing him to a point of utter ruin and desolation; of mortally wounding him; and of abandoning him without hope, to be lost in the blinding darkness and deafening confusion of the soul. It seemed he had obeyed God, only to find that God had rewarded him by using him as a sacrificial pawn.
...I wonder if Jeremiah lived in modern times, what sort of response he would be met with by other Christians and Church leadership? How many would be quick to respond with cliches and pat answers? How many more would rebuke him for entertaining such dark feelings, and for daring to accuse God? How many would find his unbelief completely heretical, not to mention utterly shocking and appalling? Faith & Prosperity Gospel Teachers would tell him that he was in that bleak and desperate situation as a consequence for (what must surely be) his own lack of faith and obedience to God... One thing is very sure: the words Jeremiah penned were most certainly NOT the sort of thing that any faithful Believer says out loud, nor would they ever dare be uttered within the walls of a Church.
And I found myself wondering: why did God permit Jeremiah-- not only to write such things-- but to have such bold and audacious accusations against Himself actually included within cannonized Scripture? We do not see God responding-- either to defend and explain Himself, or to rebuke and silence Jeremiah... It's as if God is quietly sitting there, listening, and giving His broken-hearted prophet the freedom to grieve, doubt, and vent. I believe that God allowed for Jeremiah to pen such words, so that we too could find comfort in knowing that we are not alone in our moments of greatest doubt and despair. That other great men and women of God have been faced with devastating and life-altering circumstances, and that even the most faithful have been tempted to question God-- His power, His faithfulness, His love, and His good plans for the lives He has made. God was not disturbed or disquieted by Jeremiah's unbelief. He was not angered, hurt, or disappointed... It's as if He simply sat in silence beside Jeremiah, and, like a good Friend, allowed him to freely grieve and pour out the inner turmoil of his heart. Without interruption, without challenge, without rebuttal, without remonstrance... He simply let Jeremiah grieve. And, in the midst of grieving and wondering out loud where God was, Jeremiah eventually finds his way back to faith. He recalls to mind the faithfulness of God. And he chooses yet again-- hope against hope-- to trust in God.
The next time someone you know is going through circumstances they cannot wrap their psyches around and are voicing their agonizing question of, "Where is God?", remember this: God is not disturbed by their questioning, and He doesn't call you to be disturbed, either. He is big enough to handle their doubt. Love them like JESUS. Sit quietly beside them, and listen to their grieving hearts. God is powerful enough to help them find their lost faith again, and He will be faithful to guide them back into the safety of His loving arms.
--C.A. CLARK
March 27, 2024
When Heaven Is Silent
Trauma from marital infidelity carves its mark straight through the core of who you are... It comes out in the form of intense anxiety and panic attacks, when your hands shake and chest pains start. It comes out in loss of appetite, as your body shrivels up around your hallow soul. It comes out in the form of exhaustion and fatigue, mental fogginess and the inability to remember things or even function. It comes out in anger--dark anger, that makes me want to lash out and say awful things that Jesus would NEVER say... It comes out in grief-- raw, pure grief. The kind of grief you feel over losing a loved one to death-- because, there was a death. It just wasn't a death that anyone saw or heard about, and there's no body or blood left behind.
In the days following my Husband's revelation nearly 2 months ago, I asked my Pastor this question: "How do I live through this?... Because I don't want to live through this."
I have often pondered why it is that those who wish to live often die, and those who wish to die must, somehow, continue living. I have pondered what it truly means to be "a living sacrifice" unto God. To offer the sacrifice of praise and worship through my sobs, even as I'm laying on the floor, bowed beneath the weight of my pain and turmoil... Because, He is still worthy. He is still worthy of praise and worship. And He does not despise my broken offering.
In the face of losing my job and our home and not knowing what will be next, I have struggled with the question: Why is it that those who do evil seem to get away with it, while those who seek to walk in integrity seem to be punished for it?
... I'm sure that Joseph felt the same way, when he righteously refused the sexual advances of his master employer's wife, and was thrown into prison under the false charge of rape... for years and years. I'm sure that Satan hounded him constantly, telling him that he had no earthly hope, that all of the dreams and visions God had given him were no more than castles in the sky, and that he would never leave prison. That he would languish the rest of his days in prison... In the face of all the futility and hopelessness of his situation, Joseph was left with 2 choices: despair, and commit suicide; or, trust God with all of his might, and keep on praying.
...I'm so thankful that he did. Because God had other plans. If Joseph had caved into despair and ended it, we would never have the rest of his dynamic story. And Joseph's horrendous ordeal and the injustices he faced were merely the backdrop for a plan so incredible, so miraculous, so powerful, that Joseph himself must have been in a daze when it finally actually happened.
I do not where God has been during these many years I have been in pain. I do not know where He was when these things were happening. But I do know that He was there, whether I felt Him or not. And it is okay that I do not know. It is okay that I have questions without answers. It is okay that I don't know what is next. Because HE knows the way that I take... And that is enough.
"I would have lost hope and despaired, had I not believed that I would see the goodness of God in the land of the living. Wait upon the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; yes, wait, I say, upon the LORD."
--Psalm 27:13-14
In the days following my Husband's revelation nearly 2 months ago, I asked my Pastor this question: "How do I live through this?... Because I don't want to live through this."
I have often pondered why it is that those who wish to live often die, and those who wish to die must, somehow, continue living. I have pondered what it truly means to be "a living sacrifice" unto God. To offer the sacrifice of praise and worship through my sobs, even as I'm laying on the floor, bowed beneath the weight of my pain and turmoil... Because, He is still worthy. He is still worthy of praise and worship. And He does not despise my broken offering.
In the face of losing my job and our home and not knowing what will be next, I have struggled with the question: Why is it that those who do evil seem to get away with it, while those who seek to walk in integrity seem to be punished for it?
... I'm sure that Joseph felt the same way, when he righteously refused the sexual advances of his master employer's wife, and was thrown into prison under the false charge of rape... for years and years. I'm sure that Satan hounded him constantly, telling him that he had no earthly hope, that all of the dreams and visions God had given him were no more than castles in the sky, and that he would never leave prison. That he would languish the rest of his days in prison... In the face of all the futility and hopelessness of his situation, Joseph was left with 2 choices: despair, and commit suicide; or, trust God with all of his might, and keep on praying.
...I'm so thankful that he did. Because God had other plans. If Joseph had caved into despair and ended it, we would never have the rest of his dynamic story. And Joseph's horrendous ordeal and the injustices he faced were merely the backdrop for a plan so incredible, so miraculous, so powerful, that Joseph himself must have been in a daze when it finally actually happened.
I do not where God has been during these many years I have been in pain. I do not know where He was when these things were happening. But I do know that He was there, whether I felt Him or not. And it is okay that I do not know. It is okay that I have questions without answers. It is okay that I don't know what is next. Because HE knows the way that I take... And that is enough.
"I would have lost hope and despaired, had I not believed that I would see the goodness of God in the land of the living. Wait upon the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; yes, wait, I say, upon the LORD."
--Psalm 27:13-14
September 15, 2023
Being Interruptible
There I was at the local grocery store, dutifully minding my own business and ready to make a bee-line for check-out, when out of no where I was suddenly accosted by a fiery little 75 year old Scottish woman with an accent like Mrs. Doubt-Fire: I turned around, and there she was--and it was all over. About 20 minutes into story-telling and episode 9 of her life-saga, I realized that I wasn't going anywhere fast, and that I might as well get comfortable. Together, we crossed continents, the US, and various tangled chapters of her life (not necessarily in chronological order), wrapping up with her most recent and tragic tale of unrequited pining over love-lost. Her story, though not lacking any in adventure and life-long experience, was tinged throughout with the echo of loneliness and regret.
At the end, she asked if she could hug me--how could I possibly say no?
"You should write a book!" I encouraged enthusiastically, "You're a wonderful and very gifted story-teller!"
She sobered.
"Most people say I'm boring, and detest my accent."
Then, after a few more minutes of animated conversation, she was gone--left just as quickly and abruptly as she had come, but seeming to be noticeably lighter in spirit. I think about an hour of my time had been stolen by this little woman, and I found myself grateful to God that He had allowed my self-absorbed day to be interrupted.
I've heard it said that Jesus was completely "interruptible". We never read of Jesus being in a hurry. We never hear of Him turning people away, or complaining that someone took up His time. Jesus every move seemed to include something of a divine "pause" about it, as if He was always ready and quietly waiting for the next needy person who came His way.
If nothing else that day, I knew that by the time that little Scottish woman had left, that she walked away knowing that her life--and her story--mattered to someone else on this busy, crowded, and often lonely little planet... May God help us see the true value of others, as seen through His eyes. And may we be "interruptible" individuals, just like our Savior.
At the end, she asked if she could hug me--how could I possibly say no?
"You should write a book!" I encouraged enthusiastically, "You're a wonderful and very gifted story-teller!"
She sobered.
"Most people say I'm boring, and detest my accent."
Then, after a few more minutes of animated conversation, she was gone--left just as quickly and abruptly as she had come, but seeming to be noticeably lighter in spirit. I think about an hour of my time had been stolen by this little woman, and I found myself grateful to God that He had allowed my self-absorbed day to be interrupted.
I've heard it said that Jesus was completely "interruptible". We never read of Jesus being in a hurry. We never hear of Him turning people away, or complaining that someone took up His time. Jesus every move seemed to include something of a divine "pause" about it, as if He was always ready and quietly waiting for the next needy person who came His way.
If nothing else that day, I knew that by the time that little Scottish woman had left, that she walked away knowing that her life--and her story--mattered to someone else on this busy, crowded, and often lonely little planet... May God help us see the true value of others, as seen through His eyes. And may we be "interruptible" individuals, just like our Savior.
May 10, 2023
A Tale of A Tree
For the first 11 years of my life, my family lived in a small home out in the suburbs. And for as far back as I can remember, in the front yard there stood a tiny sprout of a fruit tree, barely more than a twig. I remember being fascinated by this small living thing, dreaming of the great tree that it might grow into. Yet, year in and year out, that tiny sprout never grew, but instead remained no more than a stick in the ground. To my young, impatient eyes, it was both frustrating and terribly discouraging. At times, we weren't even sure that it was still living--and if it wasn't already dead, it seemed doomed to be so.
By the time we moved out into a another house a few doors down the road, the tiny stick in our front yard still stood no more than about 18 inches above the ground. And we were all but convinced that that was all that it would ever be.
But then, over the following years, a curious thing started to happen. When we passed by, we noticed that that tiny tree was no longer a stick--tiny branches were starting to appear, and it had suddenly grown taller. Apparently the new tenants of the home knew something about cultivating plants, and, under their gentle hands, the tree which once held no promise had begun to flourish.
When I returned as an adult many years later, I passed by my old family home, and was astounded at what I found: in place of that once tiny, ugly, barren stick was a mighty tree that towered strong and proud some twenty feet in the air. It's beautiful branches were adorned with thick, lush foliage and fruit, and birds found respite in its shade. It was truly a lovely, inspiring sight to behold. Even more, it seemed nothing short of a Miracle.
But why had it taken so long to grow? What had kept it all but dead and lifeless for the first 10 years of its life? The answer came in a way that was both humbling and sobering. The stark reality of it was, that WE were the reason why it couldn't and wouldn't grow. WE were the reason why it remained in that stinted, depressed state. We knew nothing of how to care for and tend it. And, in our flawed, immature, hyper attentions to it, I and my rag-tag gaggle of siblings had all but destroyed it. As a result, we never got to experience the joy of watching it grow and flourish. We never got to relax in its shade. We never got to taste of its fruit. We had missed all the blessings associated with a truly beautiful and wonderful thing, and the loss was all our own fault.
To this day, that Tree has stood as a symbol and a reminder to me of 2 things:
First, never assume that because an individual, a goal, dream, or vision is taking a long time to show any signs of promise, that they are/it is in some way an indication of their future and real potential. You have no idea what is happening in hidden places under the surface, nor of where (with enough love, nurture, patience, and tender persistence) that person might be in 20-30 years. You have no idea how great a thriving enterprise might be started by the seeming worthless vision of another individual.
And secondly, don't be the reason that another person is held back from fulfilling their purpose. Don't be another harsh force that keeps them down and barely clinging to life, and the dreams and visions they were once so bright-eyed and excitedly optimistic about. If you have walked with an individual for any length of time, and still see no progress in their lives, dreams, and goals, perhaps it is time to ask yourself an honest, painful question:
Am I the reason why they aren't going anywhere? Am I TRULY encouraging them in what they believe God has called them to do, or am I trying to force them to become what it is that I feel they ought to be? Am I the reason why they and their dreams are dying, instead of thriving?
Today, CHOOSE to be the gentle hand that cultivates the gifts of another. Be the steady voice of encouragement that breathes life back into them while they are facing futility and failure, and all hope seems to have died.
You never know what Miracles may grow from your simple acts of love, steadfast patience, and kindness.
"...And now, these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love. But the greatest of these, is LOVE."
--I Cor. 13:13
By the time we moved out into a another house a few doors down the road, the tiny stick in our front yard still stood no more than about 18 inches above the ground. And we were all but convinced that that was all that it would ever be.
But then, over the following years, a curious thing started to happen. When we passed by, we noticed that that tiny tree was no longer a stick--tiny branches were starting to appear, and it had suddenly grown taller. Apparently the new tenants of the home knew something about cultivating plants, and, under their gentle hands, the tree which once held no promise had begun to flourish.
When I returned as an adult many years later, I passed by my old family home, and was astounded at what I found: in place of that once tiny, ugly, barren stick was a mighty tree that towered strong and proud some twenty feet in the air. It's beautiful branches were adorned with thick, lush foliage and fruit, and birds found respite in its shade. It was truly a lovely, inspiring sight to behold. Even more, it seemed nothing short of a Miracle.
But why had it taken so long to grow? What had kept it all but dead and lifeless for the first 10 years of its life? The answer came in a way that was both humbling and sobering. The stark reality of it was, that WE were the reason why it couldn't and wouldn't grow. WE were the reason why it remained in that stinted, depressed state. We knew nothing of how to care for and tend it. And, in our flawed, immature, hyper attentions to it, I and my rag-tag gaggle of siblings had all but destroyed it. As a result, we never got to experience the joy of watching it grow and flourish. We never got to relax in its shade. We never got to taste of its fruit. We had missed all the blessings associated with a truly beautiful and wonderful thing, and the loss was all our own fault.
To this day, that Tree has stood as a symbol and a reminder to me of 2 things:
First, never assume that because an individual, a goal, dream, or vision is taking a long time to show any signs of promise, that they are/it is in some way an indication of their future and real potential. You have no idea what is happening in hidden places under the surface, nor of where (with enough love, nurture, patience, and tender persistence) that person might be in 20-30 years. You have no idea how great a thriving enterprise might be started by the seeming worthless vision of another individual.
And secondly, don't be the reason that another person is held back from fulfilling their purpose. Don't be another harsh force that keeps them down and barely clinging to life, and the dreams and visions they were once so bright-eyed and excitedly optimistic about. If you have walked with an individual for any length of time, and still see no progress in their lives, dreams, and goals, perhaps it is time to ask yourself an honest, painful question:
Am I the reason why they aren't going anywhere? Am I TRULY encouraging them in what they believe God has called them to do, or am I trying to force them to become what it is that I feel they ought to be? Am I the reason why they and their dreams are dying, instead of thriving?
Today, CHOOSE to be the gentle hand that cultivates the gifts of another. Be the steady voice of encouragement that breathes life back into them while they are facing futility and failure, and all hope seems to have died.
You never know what Miracles may grow from your simple acts of love, steadfast patience, and kindness.
"...And now, these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love. But the greatest of these, is LOVE."
--I Cor. 13:13
July 25, 2022
Lost in The Noise
Imagine your favorite song on a limited edition CD. You know, the one that you could play on repeat, because something about it moves something so deep inside your soul. It lifts you, energizes you, and helps you barrel through obstacles in your path. You play it on your way to work for that extra oomph.
Then one day, you discover a huge scratch across the CD surface. You wince, and pop the CD back into the player, hoping that it wasn't over your favorite song. It was. You try patching it, but now, every time you go to play it, all that comes out is garbled noise. What once fueled you now sets you on edge. And because it was limited edition, you can't go out and get a new one. You try to sing it from memory, but you're starting to forget the words, and even the melody is fading from memory. Replaced by jarring noise. And all of your attempts to patch it up and get it to play properly only seem to make it worse. After a while, it's not just the song that won't play. The whole CD is worthless.
This is a (very poor) illustration of PTSD. And of course, PTSD is SO much more affecting, than simply not being able to hear your favorite song anymore. That "song" was your life, your family, your relationships, your hopes and dreams for life -- before the trauma. A scratch to a CD may appear small-- almost imperceptible-- but the damage is there. For the PTSD sufferer, the damage takes the form of a well-worn groove that now interrupts your daily life and activities, and keeps dragging you back to the same scenarios--over and over again... no matter how many times you try to skip to the next "song". Other people can't see it. But you can't escape it. Other people constantly ask you why you can't just "skip" that chapter of your life, and move on to the next one. You feel frustrated, even angry with and ashamed of yourself. What is wrong with you? You try to "sing the song" (that is, you try to function like a "normal" person) the way that you remember, but you struggle to remember how you did life before the trauma. And you wish so badly that you could just scrap your old life and get a new one. A new smooth, shiny, polished life, without ugly scratches and ugly noises. You wish that your own words did not reflect the ugly noise you hear and recall. Other people can't hear the noise blaring in your ears. But it is deafening for you. And unlike a CD player, you can't shut it off. It's always playing, every time you get in the proverbial driver seat and attempt to do life. Now you're on edge. You're dealing with anxiety. You shout to be heard over the noise-- noise which no one else hears. People wonder why you're loud and angry. And you wonder why you can't make it stop. It's distracting you, and even affecting your focus and driving instincts. You can't turn off the noise, and you're afraid that one day you might end up in a car accident. Your life, your family, and everything you loved-- gone.
Modern studies show that PTSD is not just a mental illness developed after trauma. It actually physically changes and scars the human brain. If you know someone who is struggling and suffering from PTSD, be kind. They are trying to live in the real world, while at the same time being trapped in their own. Let them tell their stories, and listen without judgment. Let them know that they are loved and cared about. And let them know that you are rooting for them. Tell them that it won't always be "noise". But during the time when noise is all that they can hear, be the calm stillness in their chaos. They can't find peace and quiet, when other people's judgment, impatience, and criticism are only adding to the noise.
Then one day, you discover a huge scratch across the CD surface. You wince, and pop the CD back into the player, hoping that it wasn't over your favorite song. It was. You try patching it, but now, every time you go to play it, all that comes out is garbled noise. What once fueled you now sets you on edge. And because it was limited edition, you can't go out and get a new one. You try to sing it from memory, but you're starting to forget the words, and even the melody is fading from memory. Replaced by jarring noise. And all of your attempts to patch it up and get it to play properly only seem to make it worse. After a while, it's not just the song that won't play. The whole CD is worthless.
This is a (very poor) illustration of PTSD. And of course, PTSD is SO much more affecting, than simply not being able to hear your favorite song anymore. That "song" was your life, your family, your relationships, your hopes and dreams for life -- before the trauma. A scratch to a CD may appear small-- almost imperceptible-- but the damage is there. For the PTSD sufferer, the damage takes the form of a well-worn groove that now interrupts your daily life and activities, and keeps dragging you back to the same scenarios--over and over again... no matter how many times you try to skip to the next "song". Other people can't see it. But you can't escape it. Other people constantly ask you why you can't just "skip" that chapter of your life, and move on to the next one. You feel frustrated, even angry with and ashamed of yourself. What is wrong with you? You try to "sing the song" (that is, you try to function like a "normal" person) the way that you remember, but you struggle to remember how you did life before the trauma. And you wish so badly that you could just scrap your old life and get a new one. A new smooth, shiny, polished life, without ugly scratches and ugly noises. You wish that your own words did not reflect the ugly noise you hear and recall. Other people can't hear the noise blaring in your ears. But it is deafening for you. And unlike a CD player, you can't shut it off. It's always playing, every time you get in the proverbial driver seat and attempt to do life. Now you're on edge. You're dealing with anxiety. You shout to be heard over the noise-- noise which no one else hears. People wonder why you're loud and angry. And you wonder why you can't make it stop. It's distracting you, and even affecting your focus and driving instincts. You can't turn off the noise, and you're afraid that one day you might end up in a car accident. Your life, your family, and everything you loved-- gone.
Modern studies show that PTSD is not just a mental illness developed after trauma. It actually physically changes and scars the human brain. If you know someone who is struggling and suffering from PTSD, be kind. They are trying to live in the real world, while at the same time being trapped in their own. Let them tell their stories, and listen without judgment. Let them know that they are loved and cared about. And let them know that you are rooting for them. Tell them that it won't always be "noise". But during the time when noise is all that they can hear, be the calm stillness in their chaos. They can't find peace and quiet, when other people's judgment, impatience, and criticism are only adding to the noise.
May 12, 2022
"Behold, I make ALL things New!" --JESUS
Recently I have had multiple individuals express complete shock that I am in my 40's. People often comment that they had perceived me as being 10-15 years younger than I actually am.
Now, before anyone thinks I’m bragging, let me share what I recently told (yet another) shocked individual:
By the time I was in my mid-late twenties, I had experienced so much heartache, trauma, despair, and anxiety, that it had severely aged me. (I had left my former husband after he threatened to blind/disfigure me, and even to take my life. The emotional upheaval I found myself in was further amplified, as I found myself dealing with all the financial anxieties of being a single mother, who was often not receiving any child support whatsoever.) During that long, dark, seemingly endless season, I would often receive the (unwelcome) expressed shock of others, who could not believe how young I was, and that I was not yet even 30 years of age—they had mistook me for being 10-15 years older than I actually was. This unpleasant experience kept reoccurring, until one day a woman commented to me about my “granddaughter” (my daughter, who was then about 4 years old).
In anguish, I found myself crying out to the LORD. I had already been bereaved and robbed in so many ways, and now it felt that I was being cheated out of my youth as well. So I echoed the prayers of the Psalmist, and said:
“LORD, You say in Your Word that You will restore my youth, strength, and vitality as the eagle’s... I am claiming that promise, and I am asking for You to do that in my life, from the inside out, and to restore to me the years which the locusts have devoured.”
Over the years as I have experienced God’s healing, His indescribable Joy has replaced my sorrow and weariness. And He has kept His promise. That's not to say that I don't still experience trials in life, along with real hurts and anxiety. But through it all, I have seen God's Grace triumph in me. So now, when people ask me the “secret” to my youthful appearance, I tell them—it is the overflowing Joy which Christ has promised.
JESUS said, “I have come that they might have LIFE—and have it abundantly, until it overflows!”
The Savior of the world is still the Great Healer Today. ❤️ Don’t give up on your miracle. ❤️
Now, before anyone thinks I’m bragging, let me share what I recently told (yet another) shocked individual:
By the time I was in my mid-late twenties, I had experienced so much heartache, trauma, despair, and anxiety, that it had severely aged me. (I had left my former husband after he threatened to blind/disfigure me, and even to take my life. The emotional upheaval I found myself in was further amplified, as I found myself dealing with all the financial anxieties of being a single mother, who was often not receiving any child support whatsoever.) During that long, dark, seemingly endless season, I would often receive the (unwelcome) expressed shock of others, who could not believe how young I was, and that I was not yet even 30 years of age—they had mistook me for being 10-15 years older than I actually was. This unpleasant experience kept reoccurring, until one day a woman commented to me about my “granddaughter” (my daughter, who was then about 4 years old).
In anguish, I found myself crying out to the LORD. I had already been bereaved and robbed in so many ways, and now it felt that I was being cheated out of my youth as well. So I echoed the prayers of the Psalmist, and said:
“LORD, You say in Your Word that You will restore my youth, strength, and vitality as the eagle’s... I am claiming that promise, and I am asking for You to do that in my life, from the inside out, and to restore to me the years which the locusts have devoured.”
Over the years as I have experienced God’s healing, His indescribable Joy has replaced my sorrow and weariness. And He has kept His promise. That's not to say that I don't still experience trials in life, along with real hurts and anxiety. But through it all, I have seen God's Grace triumph in me. So now, when people ask me the “secret” to my youthful appearance, I tell them—it is the overflowing Joy which Christ has promised.
JESUS said, “I have come that they might have LIFE—and have it abundantly, until it overflows!”
The Savior of the world is still the Great Healer Today. ❤️ Don’t give up on your miracle. ❤️
Mommy, Thank You For Not Aborting Me
“Mommy, thank you for not aborting me, and for choosing to give me life.”
...Some of the most heart-wrenching words I may ever hear. I was young and unmarried when I became pregnant with my daughter. Despite the shame of my illegitimate pregnancy, God spoke to me that He was about to do something New—to make Beauty arise from my ashes. And (before even the gender of my child was revealed), He gave me her name—Ennaya—“The ABUNDANT Blessing, Grace, and Gift of God!” Then He told me to have faith for that child, and to refuse to embrace the negative messages of our culture and society.
The day that my baby was born my life was forever changed. It became much more challenging and complicated, that is true—but that was not what changed. I changed, because for the first time, I was no longer living solely for myself. My heart exploded with the immensity of the love I felt for this tiny, fragile little life, completely dependent on me for absolutely everything that she needed to survive. I knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, and I knew that I would have to become a Fighter. But I knew that I would fight for her without hesitation. And I also knew that God would be with me, and that somehow He would make a way.
Over the many long years I spent as a struggling single mother, my daughter became my greatest joy and source of comfort. And throughout my (seemingly endless) battle of working through the trauma and the crippling affects of Complex PTSD, my daughter has been my greatest delight and source of strength. She is strong, courageous, resilient, compassionate, and tender-hearted. She’s beautiful, talented, and highly intelligent. She loves Jesus, and lets His love flow out of her to everyone around her. Her laughter has lit up dark days, with her killer sense of humor that has always had me in stitches! She has been WORTH EVERY SINGLE STRUGGLING STEP FORWARD—and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
For any unmarried pregnant young woman out there, who is afraid and uncertain of what the future holds, I would say this:
Will it be hard? Yes—painfully so, at times. Will it be frightening? Yes, very much so. Will there be tears? Yes... many of them... Will it be worth it? YES. ❤️ Will God provide? Yes, He will—in ways and miracles you couldn’t even imagine! ❤️ Will it be the greatest adventure of your life? YES—beyond anything you have ever experienced! ❤️ Will that child become the greatest gift of love you could possibly imagine? ABSOLUTELY and without question! ❤️ ...So be encouraged. God is far from finished with you—on the other side of your fear there is an unimaginably Precious Gift waiting! ❤️
Someday, you will get to look back and see how God made you strong through your present struggles, and how He turned your tears into incredible Triumph. And someday, when your child is old enough to understand the enormous choice that stands before you today—the choice to take the easy way out, or the choice to instead step up, be courageous, and to choose LOVE—someday, you will hear the same words:
“Mommy, thank you for not aborting me—thank you for choosing to let me live.”
“Behold: I make ALL things New!” —JESUS
...Some of the most heart-wrenching words I may ever hear. I was young and unmarried when I became pregnant with my daughter. Despite the shame of my illegitimate pregnancy, God spoke to me that He was about to do something New—to make Beauty arise from my ashes. And (before even the gender of my child was revealed), He gave me her name—Ennaya—“The ABUNDANT Blessing, Grace, and Gift of God!” Then He told me to have faith for that child, and to refuse to embrace the negative messages of our culture and society.
The day that my baby was born my life was forever changed. It became much more challenging and complicated, that is true—but that was not what changed. I changed, because for the first time, I was no longer living solely for myself. My heart exploded with the immensity of the love I felt for this tiny, fragile little life, completely dependent on me for absolutely everything that she needed to survive. I knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, and I knew that I would have to become a Fighter. But I knew that I would fight for her without hesitation. And I also knew that God would be with me, and that somehow He would make a way.
Over the many long years I spent as a struggling single mother, my daughter became my greatest joy and source of comfort. And throughout my (seemingly endless) battle of working through the trauma and the crippling affects of Complex PTSD, my daughter has been my greatest delight and source of strength. She is strong, courageous, resilient, compassionate, and tender-hearted. She’s beautiful, talented, and highly intelligent. She loves Jesus, and lets His love flow out of her to everyone around her. Her laughter has lit up dark days, with her killer sense of humor that has always had me in stitches! She has been WORTH EVERY SINGLE STRUGGLING STEP FORWARD—and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
For any unmarried pregnant young woman out there, who is afraid and uncertain of what the future holds, I would say this:
Will it be hard? Yes—painfully so, at times. Will it be frightening? Yes, very much so. Will there be tears? Yes... many of them... Will it be worth it? YES. ❤️ Will God provide? Yes, He will—in ways and miracles you couldn’t even imagine! ❤️ Will it be the greatest adventure of your life? YES—beyond anything you have ever experienced! ❤️ Will that child become the greatest gift of love you could possibly imagine? ABSOLUTELY and without question! ❤️ ...So be encouraged. God is far from finished with you—on the other side of your fear there is an unimaginably Precious Gift waiting! ❤️
Someday, you will get to look back and see how God made you strong through your present struggles, and how He turned your tears into incredible Triumph. And someday, when your child is old enough to understand the enormous choice that stands before you today—the choice to take the easy way out, or the choice to instead step up, be courageous, and to choose LOVE—someday, you will hear the same words:
“Mommy, thank you for not aborting me—thank you for choosing to let me live.”
“Behold: I make ALL things New!” —JESUS
March 31, 2022
Our Love Story
We met when I was about 3 years old... Lloyd was 9. I was hiding behind my mother's chair at a Bible-study home fellowship group, and he attempted to coax me to come out (apparently, girls play hard-to-get at any and every age). Fast-forward several years: I was 12, when an exotically handsome 18 year old high school graduate showed up for the summer to help my Dad build our house for our lively family of nine. Lloyd was quietly reserved, but when he smiled it made me melt like butter. My flirtation skills (at that age) were highly sophisticated: I invited him to play tag with me and my gaggle of younger siblings, so that I could enjoy the secret thrill of being "chased". (Thankfully, he had always loved kids, and he never caught on.)
The summer came to an end, and my Dad's handsome summer help left our Oregon valley for Bible College in southern California. Even at that simple age, I had enough sense to know that I would not grow up in time to catch his eye, before he met someone else... But that still didn't stop me from trying when he returned home for Christmas break.
By the time I turned 18, I was working as a Nursing Assistant at a local Nursing Home. Lloyd's mother just happened to be my training nurse, and from her I learned that Lloyd had married a girl from college. I had long since moved on, but there was still the faintest twinge of disappointment, as I told myself that there was now not the slightest shadow of a doubt that THAT would NEVER happen.
I would not again hear from Lloyd or any of his family for another 17 years. And then, it was to be a family tragedy that would re-introduce us. Lloyd's 12 year old niece had been hit and killed in her school crosswalk. By that time I was a 35 year old single mother with a daughter not much younger, and could not imagine the anguish of going through such a loss. I searched online for various members of the family, to extend my sympathies and love... I found Lloyd. It was immediately apparent that life had been very hard on him, and there was a deep, empty sadness that was clearly evident in every photo of him. He was no longer married; and his 3 children lived half the country away with their mom and stepdad.
I sent him a short message: "Hi, I don't know if you remember me... I'm the eldest Clark girl."
Within a very short while, I received a reply: "I remember you... Just not so grown up."
Messages, at first timid, quickly began flying back and forth. Then he called my phone number. Hearing the sound of his voice suddenly made me melt all over again, even though I kept sternly insisting to myself that there was absolutely NO way that I would let myself think of him romantically. A lot of life had happened. I was no longer a starry-eyed teenager. Instead, I had evolved into a hardened cynic. Life had been hard... terribly, painfully, gut-wrenchingly hard. It had been years since I had even allowed myself to date. Instead, I had walled myself in, and poured myself into my writing. My fledgling debut novel had recently won accolades of critical acclaim through Kirkus Reviews, and I was inwardly praying that my years of crippling financial struggle were finally about to come to an end. So, I reasoned, it would be foolish to get distracted, at this point... But despite all my inward protests, I couldn't deny that I could not stop thinking about him, and that the mere sound of his voice on the other end of the phone secretly thrilled me.
We ended up talking on the phone every day for about a month, but there was never any talk of romance-- he never even admitted that he liked me. But something about his straight-forward candor and tenderness made me know what I had never known before: I was truly loved. And for once, this was a Love in which there were no strings attached. It was the sincerest, most unpretentious love I had ever experienced. And I found that I desperately didn't want to lose it.
We finally talked about our feelings for each other, and realized that we wanted to continue to be there for and with each other throughout the rest of our lives. I prepared to meet his 3 children during a visit, and nervously wondered if I had what it took to be a stepmom to 3 other teenagers. What if they hated me being in their Dad's life and sharing his affections? But what started out as a nervous meeting quickly became a joining of hearts. I found that I truly loved and cared about each and every one of them. And they, for their part, whole-heartedly embraced me in return. I was humbled, blessed, and so incredibly thankful for the privilege in getting to be a part of their lives.
After our courtship started and Lloyd had returned from Texas back to Oregon, he was helping me clean out my email one day, when he came across a dusty old profile from a dating website I had (only half-heartedly) engaged in before we had met. I had been so intent on protecting my identity (and that of my child), that I had gone in under a cover name-- "Dannon Wilde". Lloyd came to me in a state of shocked, incredulous excitement:
"Honey!" he exclaimed, "I found you on this dating website a whole year before we re-met! I didn't know who you were then because of the alias-- but I do remember now both the name, and your photo. I thought you were beautiful, and I was interested in you. But I talked myself out of it, because I didn't believe that I would ever return to my home state."
He stared at me in amazement, still unable to believe that the strange mystery woman he had been attracted to online was the same girl he was about to marry, and whom he had known for so long.
Just a few days from a full year after we "re-met", Lloyd and I married in a humble affair. But we were so poor that we could not afford any honeymoon. So instead, I saved my dress, promising my new husband that I would "marry him again" someday when we could afford something more romantic, along with an exciting honeymoon get-away somewhere.
Lloyd's mother once asked me, "Do you remember when you worked under me at the Nursing Home?"
"Of course!" I replied. "I could never forget that!"
"There was a day that you walked past me in the hall," she continued soberly. "I was on the phone as you passed by, when I suddenly heard God suddenly say to me, 'She would be a good wife for your son, Lloyd.' I was stunned and shocked: my son had just gotten married, and I had no idea what this could mean. I never breathed a word of what God told me that day to anyone, because I honestly never thought that it would happen."
I have pondered that conversation countless times, along with the goodness and mercy of God, and of how He knows our beginning from our end, and everything in between. He is able to take even the most gnarled, broken pieces of our lives, and refashion them into a priceless work of art that is so wonderful, and a thing of such incredible beauty.
Today, we celebrate our 5th Anniversary. It's been short and long, all at the same time. There have been many struggles, and many tears. But there has also been Faith, Hope, and Love. During the 2020 Covid outbreak, Lloyd's employment of nearly 15 years was suddenly terminated, due to business shortages and pandemic related lay-offs. But God had already been preparing my heart beforehand that He was about to take us in a brand-new direction, and that Lloyd's job-loss would serve to launch him into his true calling. Within 2 days of losing his job, Lloyd immediately enrolled in ASL at the local college. He shared with me that for years he had had a burning desire to work with the Deaf Community, but had never been able to pursue it before, owing to the 70-80 hours week load he had worked for years on end. Now, he was finally free--and he was excited!
Lloyd quickly rose to the President's List at the college, volunteering his time to help tutor others, and helping orchestrate and host ASL social events in our local city of San Antonio, Texas-- home to approximately 75,000 Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing individuals. And the warm, heart-felt welcome we received from the Deaf Community was beyond touching. As Deaf individuals would open up their hearts to us, we would hear them say: "We know that you both truly love and care about us, the Deaf Community." That means more than either of us could ever say. Last October, we launched a Church for the Deaf (Alamo Deaf Church), and it has been such a joy to partner with my husband in this labor of love.
People have often commented that Lloyd has never looked happier and more alive since meeting me-- and then again, now that he has found his true calling. I feel so humbled and blessed that I have been so honored to get to be a part of his transformation, and to watch new dreams born into his heart. I am so privileged to get to be a stepmom to my 3 precious "children-in-love", (now ages 17-22) and to receive their love in return. And I am so thankful to have found a loving man with nerdy side who whole-heartedly supports me in my career as an author (and has read and re-read my book).
In the 6 short years we have spent together, we have learned that the secret to finding and keeping Love requires learning how to fall in-love with the same person over and over again. That, and that the other person does not have to be perfect, in order to share a perfect Love. My Precious Husband has often said to me: "Stick with me, Kid, and I promise that I will never stop trying to be a better Man." He has kept that promise. For me, the span of 30 years hasn't diminished a single ounce of charm to his deep dimpled grin-- he still melts me like butter. And there still is nothing that excites me more, than the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone in the middle of the day. ❤
To everyone out there still hoping and waiting: finding-- and cultivating-- Love, takes patience...and time. Don't give up. It will happen, in God's good time.
Love & Warmest Hugs,
Charlie ❤
The summer came to an end, and my Dad's handsome summer help left our Oregon valley for Bible College in southern California. Even at that simple age, I had enough sense to know that I would not grow up in time to catch his eye, before he met someone else... But that still didn't stop me from trying when he returned home for Christmas break.
By the time I turned 18, I was working as a Nursing Assistant at a local Nursing Home. Lloyd's mother just happened to be my training nurse, and from her I learned that Lloyd had married a girl from college. I had long since moved on, but there was still the faintest twinge of disappointment, as I told myself that there was now not the slightest shadow of a doubt that THAT would NEVER happen.
I would not again hear from Lloyd or any of his family for another 17 years. And then, it was to be a family tragedy that would re-introduce us. Lloyd's 12 year old niece had been hit and killed in her school crosswalk. By that time I was a 35 year old single mother with a daughter not much younger, and could not imagine the anguish of going through such a loss. I searched online for various members of the family, to extend my sympathies and love... I found Lloyd. It was immediately apparent that life had been very hard on him, and there was a deep, empty sadness that was clearly evident in every photo of him. He was no longer married; and his 3 children lived half the country away with their mom and stepdad.
I sent him a short message: "Hi, I don't know if you remember me... I'm the eldest Clark girl."
Within a very short while, I received a reply: "I remember you... Just not so grown up."
Messages, at first timid, quickly began flying back and forth. Then he called my phone number. Hearing the sound of his voice suddenly made me melt all over again, even though I kept sternly insisting to myself that there was absolutely NO way that I would let myself think of him romantically. A lot of life had happened. I was no longer a starry-eyed teenager. Instead, I had evolved into a hardened cynic. Life had been hard... terribly, painfully, gut-wrenchingly hard. It had been years since I had even allowed myself to date. Instead, I had walled myself in, and poured myself into my writing. My fledgling debut novel had recently won accolades of critical acclaim through Kirkus Reviews, and I was inwardly praying that my years of crippling financial struggle were finally about to come to an end. So, I reasoned, it would be foolish to get distracted, at this point... But despite all my inward protests, I couldn't deny that I could not stop thinking about him, and that the mere sound of his voice on the other end of the phone secretly thrilled me.
We ended up talking on the phone every day for about a month, but there was never any talk of romance-- he never even admitted that he liked me. But something about his straight-forward candor and tenderness made me know what I had never known before: I was truly loved. And for once, this was a Love in which there were no strings attached. It was the sincerest, most unpretentious love I had ever experienced. And I found that I desperately didn't want to lose it.
We finally talked about our feelings for each other, and realized that we wanted to continue to be there for and with each other throughout the rest of our lives. I prepared to meet his 3 children during a visit, and nervously wondered if I had what it took to be a stepmom to 3 other teenagers. What if they hated me being in their Dad's life and sharing his affections? But what started out as a nervous meeting quickly became a joining of hearts. I found that I truly loved and cared about each and every one of them. And they, for their part, whole-heartedly embraced me in return. I was humbled, blessed, and so incredibly thankful for the privilege in getting to be a part of their lives.
After our courtship started and Lloyd had returned from Texas back to Oregon, he was helping me clean out my email one day, when he came across a dusty old profile from a dating website I had (only half-heartedly) engaged in before we had met. I had been so intent on protecting my identity (and that of my child), that I had gone in under a cover name-- "Dannon Wilde". Lloyd came to me in a state of shocked, incredulous excitement:
"Honey!" he exclaimed, "I found you on this dating website a whole year before we re-met! I didn't know who you were then because of the alias-- but I do remember now both the name, and your photo. I thought you were beautiful, and I was interested in you. But I talked myself out of it, because I didn't believe that I would ever return to my home state."
He stared at me in amazement, still unable to believe that the strange mystery woman he had been attracted to online was the same girl he was about to marry, and whom he had known for so long.
Just a few days from a full year after we "re-met", Lloyd and I married in a humble affair. But we were so poor that we could not afford any honeymoon. So instead, I saved my dress, promising my new husband that I would "marry him again" someday when we could afford something more romantic, along with an exciting honeymoon get-away somewhere.
Lloyd's mother once asked me, "Do you remember when you worked under me at the Nursing Home?"
"Of course!" I replied. "I could never forget that!"
"There was a day that you walked past me in the hall," she continued soberly. "I was on the phone as you passed by, when I suddenly heard God suddenly say to me, 'She would be a good wife for your son, Lloyd.' I was stunned and shocked: my son had just gotten married, and I had no idea what this could mean. I never breathed a word of what God told me that day to anyone, because I honestly never thought that it would happen."
I have pondered that conversation countless times, along with the goodness and mercy of God, and of how He knows our beginning from our end, and everything in between. He is able to take even the most gnarled, broken pieces of our lives, and refashion them into a priceless work of art that is so wonderful, and a thing of such incredible beauty.
Today, we celebrate our 5th Anniversary. It's been short and long, all at the same time. There have been many struggles, and many tears. But there has also been Faith, Hope, and Love. During the 2020 Covid outbreak, Lloyd's employment of nearly 15 years was suddenly terminated, due to business shortages and pandemic related lay-offs. But God had already been preparing my heart beforehand that He was about to take us in a brand-new direction, and that Lloyd's job-loss would serve to launch him into his true calling. Within 2 days of losing his job, Lloyd immediately enrolled in ASL at the local college. He shared with me that for years he had had a burning desire to work with the Deaf Community, but had never been able to pursue it before, owing to the 70-80 hours week load he had worked for years on end. Now, he was finally free--and he was excited!
Lloyd quickly rose to the President's List at the college, volunteering his time to help tutor others, and helping orchestrate and host ASL social events in our local city of San Antonio, Texas-- home to approximately 75,000 Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing individuals. And the warm, heart-felt welcome we received from the Deaf Community was beyond touching. As Deaf individuals would open up their hearts to us, we would hear them say: "We know that you both truly love and care about us, the Deaf Community." That means more than either of us could ever say. Last October, we launched a Church for the Deaf (Alamo Deaf Church), and it has been such a joy to partner with my husband in this labor of love.
People have often commented that Lloyd has never looked happier and more alive since meeting me-- and then again, now that he has found his true calling. I feel so humbled and blessed that I have been so honored to get to be a part of his transformation, and to watch new dreams born into his heart. I am so privileged to get to be a stepmom to my 3 precious "children-in-love", (now ages 17-22) and to receive their love in return. And I am so thankful to have found a loving man with nerdy side who whole-heartedly supports me in my career as an author (and has read and re-read my book).
In the 6 short years we have spent together, we have learned that the secret to finding and keeping Love requires learning how to fall in-love with the same person over and over again. That, and that the other person does not have to be perfect, in order to share a perfect Love. My Precious Husband has often said to me: "Stick with me, Kid, and I promise that I will never stop trying to be a better Man." He has kept that promise. For me, the span of 30 years hasn't diminished a single ounce of charm to his deep dimpled grin-- he still melts me like butter. And there still is nothing that excites me more, than the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone in the middle of the day. ❤
To everyone out there still hoping and waiting: finding-- and cultivating-- Love, takes patience...and time. Don't give up. It will happen, in God's good time.
Love & Warmest Hugs,
Charlie ❤
October 9, 2021
Standing Under Pressure
Several years ago, I was a young single Mother living in abject poverty, and literally facing homelessness with my 7 year old daughter on the rough streets of Charleston, SC. To this day, I do not recall there ever being any other time in my life when I have ever felt so truly desperate and alone.
During that time, I was approached by a business owner of less than reputable connections. He knew of my dire situation, and wanted to "help" with a business proposition. All I had to do was sign the paperwork, and stick with story when questioned by authorities. If I did this, then he promised that I would be set up and cared for for years to come. I would live comfortably without a care in the world, and I would never again need to fear for my child's welfare... There was a millisecond, in which that proposition sounded tempting. But I immediately remembered something I heard years before, and that was this:
"Sin will always take you further than you intended to go, keep you longer than you intended to stay, and make you pay so much more than you ever thought you would have to pay."
Turning to him, I replied: "I am a Christian. What you are asking me to do is illegal, on top of being a lie and a deception--and it would dishonor my God. My character is not for sale."
He dismissively waved away my response: "I knew that you would say that. Don't answer right away. Just take a few days to think about it."
"My answer will be the same tomorrow," I returned. "I am a follower of Christ, and I cannot dishonor Him."
"Well," he answered mockingly, "I don't see your Jesus coming through for you."
Over the years, I have thought many times about that scenario. I thank God for giving me the courage to stand and do what was right, if only in a very small and humble way. Although God's provision and way through that difficult time was far less than earth-shattering or glamorous, it was provision nonetheless. It wasn't a banquet feast, but it was "Manna" in the desert. And I recognize how Satan sought to use the desperation of those moments to weaken me--morally and spiritually--and to permanently cripple my Christian witness. I shudder and cringe at the thought of who I might have become and where I would be today, if I had caved in to the enormous pressure of the moment and chosen to take the "easy" short-cut that was offered. My life, even if comfortable, would have been twisted and marred, made ugly through hypocrisy, faithlessness, and integrity lost.
But there is another reason why this situation so often comes to mind-- it is because I see similar situations happening to people all around me. I see their desperation; I hear it in their stories. And I also see and hear people leaving off their professed faith in Christ, when circumstances seem too overwhelming, and the odds insurmountable. I hear the same question that was posed to me back then: "Where is God?" Or, even worse, "God has abandoned me and no longer cares."
The simple, unvarnished truth is, I do not know why God allows certain things. And, despite the fact that God helped me to stand strong in the midst of my own desperate situation, I would be lying if I said that there have not been many times in my life when I have inwardly wondered the same things. There have been more than a few times in my walk with Christ when I have felt completely disillusioned. And I often struggle to accept the fact that there are many people of unscrupulous principles, whose efforts thrive and produce wealth, while there are millions of others who suffer, despite their faithfulness and virtuous conduct.
And, in the midst of all these questions, another, almost imperceptible question starts to form in my mind: Why, exactly, do I follow Christ?
If we follow the train of thought and methodology of the "Prosperity Gospel" teachers of our times, then God's "failure to follow through" would almost certainly be cause to abandon our Faith. But the truth is that Jesus never promised that it would be easy; in fact, He promised that we would experience trials and tribulations. God does promise to forgive us for our sins when we repent; but He does not promise to always deliver us from the consequences of our choices. Contrary to popular messages from "Christian" leaders nowadays, Jesus never promised wealth. Instead, He instructs us: "Take up your cross, and follow Me."
The truth is that I do not follow Christ for what He can, might, or will do for me. I follow Him for Who He is and what He has already done. I still deal with disappointments, disillusionments, setbacks, and numerous heartaches of many kinds... My hope is not in this life, but in the life that is waiting for me on the other side of eternity. There will come a day when He will wipe away every tear. In that day, suffering and hardship will come to an end, and become nothing but a washed-away memory. In that day I will no longer need to stand strong under pressure, because I will finally have entered into His Rest... for countless millenniums into eternity.
...And then it hits me: this life is nothing but a blink compared to the vastness of Forever Hereafter. This life, with all of its trials and heartbreaks, is my one and only chance to truly shine brightly for Christ. Someday in Heaven, when all the saints are gathered round, and stories of the great Heroes of the Faith are being told and retold, will I look back with empty sorrow and hallow regret for the missed opportunities that came my way-- those chances to catch a glimpse of God's glory, disguised as mundane hardships, or even bitter heartache?
Sometimes God delivers His People from the fire, yes; but, more often than not, He is the God Who stands with His People while in the furnace. If you find yourself under intense heat today, know that God is refining you into pure, precious gold-- and a clear reflection of Himself. If you find yourself surrounded by darkness while under unbearable pressure, remember this: that is how God has designed Nature to create diamonds out of rocks... Something Beautiful and Priceless is being formed out of your Darkness...
Stay calm through the chaos... Daylight is coming.
During that time, I was approached by a business owner of less than reputable connections. He knew of my dire situation, and wanted to "help" with a business proposition. All I had to do was sign the paperwork, and stick with story when questioned by authorities. If I did this, then he promised that I would be set up and cared for for years to come. I would live comfortably without a care in the world, and I would never again need to fear for my child's welfare... There was a millisecond, in which that proposition sounded tempting. But I immediately remembered something I heard years before, and that was this:
"Sin will always take you further than you intended to go, keep you longer than you intended to stay, and make you pay so much more than you ever thought you would have to pay."
Turning to him, I replied: "I am a Christian. What you are asking me to do is illegal, on top of being a lie and a deception--and it would dishonor my God. My character is not for sale."
He dismissively waved away my response: "I knew that you would say that. Don't answer right away. Just take a few days to think about it."
"My answer will be the same tomorrow," I returned. "I am a follower of Christ, and I cannot dishonor Him."
"Well," he answered mockingly, "I don't see your Jesus coming through for you."
Over the years, I have thought many times about that scenario. I thank God for giving me the courage to stand and do what was right, if only in a very small and humble way. Although God's provision and way through that difficult time was far less than earth-shattering or glamorous, it was provision nonetheless. It wasn't a banquet feast, but it was "Manna" in the desert. And I recognize how Satan sought to use the desperation of those moments to weaken me--morally and spiritually--and to permanently cripple my Christian witness. I shudder and cringe at the thought of who I might have become and where I would be today, if I had caved in to the enormous pressure of the moment and chosen to take the "easy" short-cut that was offered. My life, even if comfortable, would have been twisted and marred, made ugly through hypocrisy, faithlessness, and integrity lost.
But there is another reason why this situation so often comes to mind-- it is because I see similar situations happening to people all around me. I see their desperation; I hear it in their stories. And I also see and hear people leaving off their professed faith in Christ, when circumstances seem too overwhelming, and the odds insurmountable. I hear the same question that was posed to me back then: "Where is God?" Or, even worse, "God has abandoned me and no longer cares."
The simple, unvarnished truth is, I do not know why God allows certain things. And, despite the fact that God helped me to stand strong in the midst of my own desperate situation, I would be lying if I said that there have not been many times in my life when I have inwardly wondered the same things. There have been more than a few times in my walk with Christ when I have felt completely disillusioned. And I often struggle to accept the fact that there are many people of unscrupulous principles, whose efforts thrive and produce wealth, while there are millions of others who suffer, despite their faithfulness and virtuous conduct.
And, in the midst of all these questions, another, almost imperceptible question starts to form in my mind: Why, exactly, do I follow Christ?
If we follow the train of thought and methodology of the "Prosperity Gospel" teachers of our times, then God's "failure to follow through" would almost certainly be cause to abandon our Faith. But the truth is that Jesus never promised that it would be easy; in fact, He promised that we would experience trials and tribulations. God does promise to forgive us for our sins when we repent; but He does not promise to always deliver us from the consequences of our choices. Contrary to popular messages from "Christian" leaders nowadays, Jesus never promised wealth. Instead, He instructs us: "Take up your cross, and follow Me."
The truth is that I do not follow Christ for what He can, might, or will do for me. I follow Him for Who He is and what He has already done. I still deal with disappointments, disillusionments, setbacks, and numerous heartaches of many kinds... My hope is not in this life, but in the life that is waiting for me on the other side of eternity. There will come a day when He will wipe away every tear. In that day, suffering and hardship will come to an end, and become nothing but a washed-away memory. In that day I will no longer need to stand strong under pressure, because I will finally have entered into His Rest... for countless millenniums into eternity.
...And then it hits me: this life is nothing but a blink compared to the vastness of Forever Hereafter. This life, with all of its trials and heartbreaks, is my one and only chance to truly shine brightly for Christ. Someday in Heaven, when all the saints are gathered round, and stories of the great Heroes of the Faith are being told and retold, will I look back with empty sorrow and hallow regret for the missed opportunities that came my way-- those chances to catch a glimpse of God's glory, disguised as mundane hardships, or even bitter heartache?
Sometimes God delivers His People from the fire, yes; but, more often than not, He is the God Who stands with His People while in the furnace. If you find yourself under intense heat today, know that God is refining you into pure, precious gold-- and a clear reflection of Himself. If you find yourself surrounded by darkness while under unbearable pressure, remember this: that is how God has designed Nature to create diamonds out of rocks... Something Beautiful and Priceless is being formed out of your Darkness...
Stay calm through the chaos... Daylight is coming.
