So, this time around it’s not my thoughts I want to share. Instead, I want to ask a question and a follow up question. While I have my own tendencies regarding the question, I’m interested in hearing back from pastors and other leaders. Here it is:
When folks facing adversity come to you for help, where in the Bible do you turn?
And how do you help them to apply that passage?
Thanks.
Adversity can make you better or bitter. Adversity can be a kick in the pants. It can also kick you in the teeth. Obviously we want the former, not the latter. But how do you know? How can you tell when adversity has become your master?
Three words can help: critical, apathetic, and sullen.
If these adjectives paint your life picture, adversity is winning.
● When finding fault sprints to the lead while compassion and understanding struggle to keep pace…adversity is winning.
● When indifference and insensitivity climb the leader board while concern and kindness fail to make the cut…adversity is winning.
● When pouty pessimism scores all the goals while cheer and hope get shut out… adversity is winning.
It means you’ve lost purpose. You’ve lost your way. Helen Keller once said, “True happiness… is not attained through self-gratification, but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.”
If a worthy purpose puts criticism, apathy, and sulleness in their places, imagine the power of ultimate purpose.
“Higher than the mountains that I face
Stronger than the power of the grave
Constant in the trial and the change
One thing… remains…”
by Jesus Culture
I’ll be blunt, adversity stinks.
You lose…
…your job.
…your health.
…your wealth.
Some…
…thing you cherish goes missing.
…hope you grasp slips away.
…one you love suddenly dies.
And… adversity becomes your up-close, personal, unwanted guest.
It more than stinks.
It hurts…
It bewilders…
It depresses…
It pervades…
It lingers…
…a lot…too much…too long.
You know it and I know it, because we’ve been there. Perhaps, you’re still there. If you’ve not been there. Hang on, it’s coming.
So, for just a few moments think about this question: “what do all those items above have in common? Slow down for just a bit. Try not to read on. Can you think of at least two things they have in common?
…
…
…
Okay, you’ve probably arrived at the same thing, but just in case here it is:
1. They all represent loss and loss requires grief.
2. They all fill a part of your soul and what fills the soul produces purpose.
So, will forgetting the loss heal the grief? No, because forgetting will never fill your soul and therefore will produce no purpose.
So, will time heal all wounds? No, because time is just a prolonged encounter with the pain.
So, will something new and similar to the thing lost fill the void? Maybe in part, but not completely, because it’s never quite the same
Then what? What will help?
One thing. Purpose. Ultimate purpose.
People, pursuits, and things pass away. The result. They never completely fill the holes in our souls. Please don’t get me wrong. They are beautiful and wonderful. We desire them and need them. They complement us. They often bring out the best in us. However, by their very nature they are not permanent. They may not outlast us. When they go they leave holes in our souls. Joy flows out. Pain rushes in. Grief.
Maybe you recall a famous scene from the Billy Crystal movie, City Slickers.
Curly: Do you know what the secret of life is? [holds up one finger] This.
Mitch: Your finger?
Curly: One thing. Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don’t mean s____.
Mitch: But, what is the “one thing?”
Curly: [smiles] That’s what you have to find out.
So one question needs an answer if adversity is to become an opportunity rather than an ogre. Got purpose…ultimate purpose?
The Lord has it. He wants you to have it.
I sit quiet observing…listening.
Her breath is shallow, loud. Then nothing…
one second, two seconds…
nine, ten, eleven…
It’s back again, shallow, loud, piercing the quiet of the night.
Again. And again. Yet again, she breathes. She is not alert. She does not respond. She breathes.
I await. Her reward draws near. Peace is here. Greater peace beckons. My Mother is dying, but she lives. She lives as she has always lived. With contentment.
The little girl in her always remembered the sweet words of the nuns, “Jesus, dear Gladys, follow Jesus.” And she did. She did. In youth. In life. In dying. Until and into greater life.
My mind prays. It hopes, pleads, demands…yes, though I wish otherwise, demands…
“Now? …
Now? …
Now?
Lord? Father? Now?”
And she breathes. Content. Waiting.
My thoughts wander. They remember the poem. By Dylan Thomas.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
old age should burn and rave at close of day;
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
because their words had forked no lightning
they do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
and learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray,
do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And I write:
Walk, run, go gentle into that good night.
Yes, old age could rave at close of day and
rage, rage against the coming of his light.
But wise men at their end know light is right,
because their hope awaits the rising,
they walk, run, go gentle into that good light.
So you, my Mother, there with your glad right,
sing, bless me now with your sweet peace, I pray
walk, run, go into that good light.
Wave, wave facing the coming of his light.
Shorter. Less skilled than Dylan’s. But right.
Her hand lifts ever so slightly…
gentle as always as she waves…
she waves to the coming of his light.
P.S. This was penned in the o’dark thirty hours of Monday morning. At 4:07am Tuesday morning, Mom celebrated in the arms of her Savior. As the Apostle Paul was once moved by the Holy Spirit to say, “Absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.”
Do you share this sweet confidence?
I love that old saying, “Good things come in small packages.” Wedding rings come in small boxes. Pay raises come in small memos. Encouraging words come in small whispers. I like the old saying, because I like the truth of it: life is good when we get good stuff in small packages.
I was reminded of this when I read a small passage in the New Testament. It’s not a lot of words, but it sure contains some mighty good stuff. For me, it’s a gift from God in a quest for peace in a life filled with stress.
Here it is (Philippians 4:2-9): “(1) So then, my brothers and sisters, you are dearly loved and longed for—my joy and crown. In this manner stand firm in the Lord, dear friends. (2) I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to agree in the Lord. (3) Yes, I also ask you, true partner, to help these women who have contended for the gospel at my side, along with Clement and the rest of my coworkers whose names are in the book of life. (4) Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! (5) Let your graciousness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. (6) Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. (7) And the peace of God, which surpasses every thought, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (8) Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable—if there is any moral excellence and if there is any praise—dwell on these things. (9) Do what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”
Now don’t run off just because it’s addressed to two ladies with funny names in a country far away and a time long ago. Let me share the good things coming in this small package. There are six of them…and who wouldn’t love to possess them when life and relationships run wild with stress.
—to stand firm in one’s faith (verse 1)
—to be at peace with others (verses 2 and 3)
—to rejoice at all times (verse 4)
—to be gracious with everyone (verse 5)
—to dwell upon virtuous, beneficial things (verse 8)
—to consistently apply God’s truth (verse 9)
Now notice, in verses 6 and 7, the one thing we need to do: pray. However, don’t miss the power in this small package. Remember it was originally delivered to two ladies with funny names feuding about forgettable things. What do you suppose Euodia and Syntyche were being asked to pray about? Right. One another. And what should inform their prayer. The six wonderful things surrounding this encouragement to pray.
Stop going in separate directions and pray for the capacity to stand firm together.
Stop fighting to gain advantage and pray for the capacity to get back on the same page.
Stop pouting to receive sympathy and pray for the capacity to rejoice over the good in others.
Stop criticizing to inflict pain and pray for the capacity to be gentle toward others.
Stop dwelling on negative things and pray for the capacity to see what’s noble and right about others.
Stop banking on faulty opinions and pray for the capacity to see God’s much larger picture.
Imagine: the ladies with funny names start seeing one another through the far-sight of God’s eyes rather than the near-sight of their frustration.
Imagine: you start to see your life and relationships through God’s eyes rather than the stress of your frustration.
Imagine: you face conflict, but pray to resolve it rather than fight about it.
Imagine: you face loss, but pray to challenge it rather than retreat from it.
Imagine: you face stress, but pray to manage it rather than crumble under it.
Imagine, just imagine.
It may have been delivered in a small package, but it’s mighty good advice.
Ricki Lee Brooks 