How to suffer. I’m repurposing a blog I wrote in 2019 with some additional thoughts at the end. This is very real and pertinent to me right now.

How to suffer well. Isn’t that a cheerful thought?

I’ve given this a lot of thought recently. Because, taken on its face, that makes God out to be some sort of cosmic ogre. It makes Him sound like a wicked potentate, demanding His pound of flesh.

Fact is, God is a god of mercy and justice. So how does suffering fit in? Does God indeed choose to crush you?

Yep. For the believer, it’s not optional.

Here’s what spurred this thinking for me. It grew out of a re-reading of the classic “suffering servant” passage in Isaiah 53 which is a prophetic foreshadowing of Jesus’ crucifixion. I’ve read this passage a gazillion times, I’m sure, and have often winced when reading verse 10.

Speaking of Jesus, Isaiah says, “Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer …”

So I thought, man, poor Jesus. I know it was all part of The Plan, but it was for a redemptive cause – his life was to be an offering for sin.

(I’d add that it’s this line of thinking which causes some non-believers to balk at the Christian faith. “I mean,” they say, “what can you say about a god who would crucify his own son?” We could unpack that later.)

Are there, then, times when God chooses for you to suffer?

I’ve concluded that yes, indeed, there is.

Understand that being crushed by God doesn’t mean that your life is an offering for sin. That role has already been fulfilled. This isn’t about you being that kind of martyr.

To illustrate, I’ll need to go all autobiographical on ya. Thanks for indulging me. I have a reason for being personal…

… but I’m not looking for pity.

You may know that in June of 2018 I sustained a nasty concussion. Concussions happen all the time. But in about a third of concussion cases, the victim incurs what is called Post Concussion Syndrome. The issues are complex, but the bottom line is that it’s not a quick recovery. Some days I feel like a poster child for PCS.

I do think I’m better. People tell me they’re seeing more of the old Tony, and I appreciate that so! I don’t necessarily feel it, but I’ll go with the bright days I do have.

Besides the apocalyptic migraines that have come with it, the cognitive issues, and other fun symptoms, the worst has been the darkest, blackest, depressed funk you can imagine. That, too, has been held mostly at bay. Yay for good meds! Better living through pharmaceuticals, right?

What that has done, though, has given me a fresh empathy for those facing mental illness in general and depression specifically. I get it.

Here’s where it gets messy, though.

For those who aren’t familiar with mental illness – either their own or by observing someone dealing with it – it is so, so easy to pass judgement.

Here’s what sufferers hear. I know experientially what I’m talking about:

”Shouldn’t you be over it by now?”

”Cheer up. There are plenty of people worse off than you are.”

” Just have more faith.”

Yeah, that’s really helpful.

The worst, for me personally, is the vibe that I get from some people who think I’m trying to get away with something. There’s no visible sign of illness, so you have to be working a scam, right?

You get cancer, or you get heart disease, and no one asks, “what did you do?” You get depression or other mental illness, and they ask, “who sinned, this man or his parents?”

I could go on, but I’d come across as a whiner.

I don’t want to be a whiner.

Back to my thesis – does God choose for us to suffer? What do you do when God chooses to crush you (and I believe He does)?

If you feel crushed by God, you are not the first, nor are you alone.

I won’t take time right now to talk about David, that man after God’s own heart, but I can tell you that he just flat-out despaired. Check out Psalms 13, 22, 38, and 42 for starters.

I don’t want to get bogged down in theological weeds. Let me be as honest as I know how to be. I think this will help someone today.

I knew the Gospel. I knew all the right answers. I’ve taught the truth as best as I knew how.

But what I have recently learned is that there is a refining work of God that can only come though moments of despair. Sometimes, you just have to suffer.

This: I believe that God, in His mercy, has caused me to suffer.

Know why? It may be that I entered a season that I needed to suffer with Him. I could sit back and be all academic about suffering, or I could experience it first hand.

Here’s what’s happened. Because He’s crushed me, the faith He gives me is now stronger, more focused, and has astonishing clarity.

By walking through days that are a slog, and facing nights that are unusually long, I see things I never saw before.

By spending time in darkness, I am coming to understand what the light of Christ is all about.

When you say depression is just evidence of a weak faith, then you’re forgetting that Jesus Himself knew horrific sorrow. Not only did He endure despair (and was forsaken by God!) He even bore all our sorrows.

The takeaway? God sometimes chooses for you to suffer. But His love for us never changes. It’s in Him we place our hope.

Some new thoughts:

• Christianity doesn’t give us a free pass out of suffering. You will suffer. I guarantee it. It’s right and proper to acknowledge you’re hurting, and hurting bad. Just because you’re a Christian doesn’t mean your suffering will be any easier or more endurable What it does mean is that you can see your suffering as one point in a timeline that stretches out into eternity. For Christians, that means that the best is still ahead of us.
• The real reward for suffering is what God does in us and through us. I’ve already spoken about this. But there’s an intimacy with God that happens amidst our suffering that only suffering can produce. It puts our feet on solid ground and not shifting sand. Our souls are touched by God Himself, who is always with us in our suffering.

These days, I’m fixated on helping broken Christians feel better.

It’s tempting to talk about “in this season of life,” or “my calling,” or other noble-sounding catch phrases. These can become cliche real fast. Seriously, though, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I’m supposed to be when I grow up. Helping broken Christians feel better might be part of that equation.

This is all pretty personal. Maybe even therapeutic, and this is my blog, but you don’t have to indulge me. See you next week!

Otherwise … I’m fixin’ to barf all over you.

When I speak of broken Christians, I’m not talking about when God breaks you. That is a separate issue.

I’ve dealt with this before in this blog. Just as a brief takeaway, understand that no matter how much God loves us, no matter what He wants to do for us or how earnestly He seeks to bless us, He cannot do anything with a person who closes his heart in pride, refusing to bend and break.

God has all sorts of ways to turn us into broken Christians – it might be through some soul-shattering crisis, or a gradual erosion of life. I’d suggest that brokenness from God is to be expected. Ancient script says that “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18, NIV).

The brokenness I’m speaking of here is the brokenness experienced when, frankly, Christianity isn’t working or delivering for someone.

That sounds sacrilegious, but it’s the reality many live. Maybe even you.

Annoying commercial break. Unless you’ve been under a rock, ignored me, or unfriended me, you know that I’ve developed a heart-driven course dealing with this very thing, Return to Wholeness. The discounted “tuition” ended on September 20, and when it’s officially opened to the public soon it’ll be at the fair market value price.

If you’re interested, though, I can channel Don Vito Corleone and give you “the offer you can’t refuse.” I’ve worried much about coming across like some sleazy salesman, but I’ve come to realize that sales equal service – I’m providing you and others with the very best God has given me. It’s for broken Christians, or those who have broken Christians in their lives.

Here’s the link if you’ve missed it, skimmed by it, or had no idea what I was up to. Significantly, what I’ve discovered is that while the course isn’t for everyone because many are at a good place spiritually, they know someone who isn’t. I’ve encouraged folks to gift the course to someone, or at least pass the link along. 

There was also a perfectly lovely article written about the course and me that you can read here for extra credit.

Enough said. Moving ahead to your regularly scheduled programme.

I always thought, on some level, that Christians weren’t supposed to be broken. We’re supposed to be well and whole, right? When times are hard, we pray, knowing God is there to hear our prayers and respond in a way that glorifies Him.

We say things like “the joy of the Lord is my strength,” and mean it because it’s scriptural.

But we don’t feel it. We join the ranks of broken Christians who are fruitless, defeated, and wondering if this walk with Jesus they’re experiencing is what they signed up for.

Honestly – there have been days when I didn’t know if God won, or Satan won. All I knew is that I lost.

You cheered up yet? I got more.

I’ve never been in a crisis of faith place where I doubted the presence of God, or even the love of God. I have wondered what the heck He was up to, and why He was allowing me to live in such an all-consuming funk.

You might identify. It’s like the bottom of your spiritual life has fallen out. You feel like you need to throw yourself on the mercy of God. Maybe you’ve tried.

Or – gasp! – you’ve wrestled with things like this:

• You used to have daily quiet times, now all you can manage is the occasional Bible reading, and it feels rote and hollow.
• You used to have it all together, now the least little thing puts you in a tailspin.
• You used to do so much good church and kingdom work, now all you do is try to avoid it.
• You used to be so balanced and healthy, and now you’re just a step away from being going carnival-ape crazy.
• You used to help so many other people, now all your bandwidth is used up  by just trying to get through the day.

Can I simply say you aren’t alone?

Check out Elijah, or David, or even Simon Peter. You are going to find them in some perfectly wretched states. But they didn’t stay broken forever.

I’ve thought a lot about all this, and it comes back to my original statement: I want to help broken Christians feel better.

At the end of this blog*, after my sign-off and below the photo, you can see some of my testimony and what has moved me to the space I’m occupying now. Is this a calling for me? I honestly feel it is.

It’s still a work in progress, no doubt. What encourages me so is that, even at age 66, God moves and inspires and equips me. He’ll equip you, too. As I’ve stated so many times, the reason you and I aren’t dead is because we haven’t completed what God put us here to do in the first place. Encouraging, yes?

So I’ll keep developing courses. I’ll be a full-on pest, because I’ve found I have to be brazen to get folks to even look at what the Lord has provided me. People are busy, and obviously what I’ve offered is a lot more important to me than it is others, just because I know what’s in it. I’m trying to get over feeling like a snake-oil salesman. I’m getting there.

I’ll keep writing this blog. It has been an encouragement to a lot of folks.

I’ll keep curating that Transformational Encouragement group on Facebook. We have over a thousand members, there for each other.

As long as there is breath in me, I’ll finish well because I know I’ve helped broken Christians feel better.

Talk soon! Comments welcome.

Tony

*MY REAL CREDENTIALS

In June of 2018 I suffered a nasty concussion. At first it wasn’t too big of a deal – my eye swelled shut, I had stitches, but it all seemed pretty routine. CT scans and x-rays showed no head or brain damage, but I did have three broken ribs. About a week after the injury, I started getting headaches on the opposite side of my head from the impact site. Overnight I developed a sensitivity to light and sound. There were some cognitive issues – it’s like my brain was shrouded in fog. 

Worst of all was the deepest, darkest emotional funk you can imagine. Anxiety, depression, and what I characterized as “a sense of impending doom” became realities. It was/is perfectly awful.

After another round of scans and x-rays, my internist – whom I love much – told me I had post-concussion syndrome (PCS).

No, I’d never heard of it either. All my symptoms were textbook. The cure? Time. I was to be patient. It would “take time.” (I’ve heard that “take time” phrase so many times that I’m afraid the next time I hear it I’m gonna punch someone in the throat.) He also put me on a killer combo of depression/Anxiety meds. 

Apparently PCS victims are prone to suicidal thoughts. Praise God that hasn’t been an issue. Since then, I’ve been to a chiropractor, I’ve tried acupuncture (which was actually pretty fun, but it didn’t really help), and talked to a counselor. All well and good. I’ve also been to a neurologist, and that’s been very encouraging. I’d had a migraine headache 24/7 – that was taking its toll – but again, she’s tinkered and experimented with several drugs and danged if the headache is only maybe three times a month. It’s not constant, and when it comes it hits with a vengeance, but it’s so much more manageable.

This incident – which has come in many ways to define my life – comes on the heels of the darndest year ever. Our house flooded and had to basically be gutted; we were displaced for seven months. I had surgery for two benign parathyroid tumors that were messing with my head. I was diagnosed with cancer – renal cell carcinoma. The upside of that one was that the doc went in, got the tumor and a piece of kidney, and I was good to go with no chemo or radiation or any of those nasty things. And our beloved ancient Boston terrier, Teddy, went to doggie heaven.

Why am I sharing this? Simple. My story is your story.

We all deal with challenges, do we not? life is full of joy and heartache in equal measure. Everyone faces something. Many people respond to life with despair, or at least a sense of hopelessness. Well, I am here to stand before you and declare that hopelessness is not an option.

There are some things that take up too much headspace for me – specifically, things that are out of my control.

I realized when I started writing this particular blog that I had way too much to share in just one sitting. So this will be continued next time, okay? (Teaser!)

Fact is, there are plenty of things out of my control, and yours, too.

I thought I’d share seven of these. This isn’t some magic number, but I’m guessing that at a minimum these seven are close to universal. I’ll just air these out, and next time I’ll give you some encouragement.

Here ya go: 7 things out of my control.

1. The actions of others.

Think about the folks you come into contact with regularly. If you want to think globally, that’s fine, but maybe we need to restrict this to your immediate circle.

It’s a hard truth that you can’t control what others do. Maybe you can be an influencer, and I hope you are. (Of course, this implies that you know what’s best for others, and that might be a little sketchy.)

People are inherently self-serving, and it takes some effort for them to overcome that … if that’s a goal they have. Chances are, you’ve experienced some hurt because of what others have done. You’d like to help them see how wrong they were (subtle sarcasm there.)

You got nowhere. This is one of those things out of your control.

2. The opinions of others.

Well, yeah. People have strong opinions about, y’know, stuff. They may have strong opinions about you, too. Does that make you uncomfortable? And if so, why?

I know of a lady who was scrupulous about making sure her house was in order, the beds made up, etc., before leaving each morning for work. Her rationale? “If the house catches on fire, I’d hate for the firefighters to see my house in a mess.”

Well, now, my sense is that they wouldn’t care. That’s something out of my control.

Still, she was motivated by the opinion of others. Even complete strangers.

You can’t do anything about what others think. Again, you might be an influencer, but it’s up to them as to what their opinions are.

3. How others take care of themselves.

There is a series of commercials/PSA’s I see frequently about quitting smoking. I’ve never smoked, so this doesn’t really apply to me. But the minute-long spots show vignettes of people who are grotesquely scarred because of surgery, of children having to take care of cancer-ridden parents, and patients dealing with a whole host of horrific ailments.

It may be that someone close to you doesn’t take care of themselves. Maybe they’re morbidly obese. Perhaps they know what they’re doing is unhealthy – not only physically, but emotionally and mentally. It grieves you.

You can’t fix that. People will, or won’t, take care of themselves based on where they are in life and what circumstances surround them.

I had a relative who straight-up said, “Smoking is the only pleasure I have left.” So there’s that.

4. What happens around me.

So here you are, plunked down in a physical location right now. It’s an environmental thing, and it’s not just physical. You may find yourself in an environment made up of other people, circumstances, things like that.

Those things are out of my control. They might not change. Perhaps I can remove myself from that environment, but that doesn’t change the “things” themselves.

As I write this, Jackson, Mississippi, is in a legitimate crisis. I live in metro Jackson, and what is happening doesn’t directly affect me. Jackson is without water, basically, and that means none to drink, none to bathe in, none to cook with, none to flush toilets. It’s really, really bad. We’re on the national news.

I can’t do anything about that. It’s out of my control.

I would say, though, that while I can’t change things, I can serve in the midst of them. While the circumstances themselves are out of my control, I’m not helpless. So maybe this one isn’t totally out of my control. There have been other things over the years I couldn’t do squat about.

5. The past.

This one is pretty self-evident. What’s done is done. We don’t get do-overs. We can commit to not doing boneheaded things from here on out, but it doesn’t change what’s already happened.

If you’ve been following me for some time, you know this is a “thing” for me. People are burdened, crippled by the past. It shouldn’t be this way, but realistically, it is for many.

I can’t change the past. That’s out of my control. It’s easy to say “get over it,” but that’s really, really hard, especially if you have something in your past that looms up in your thoughts like some demonic presence.

6. The future.

Here’s a companion thought to #5. You can’t control the future.

There may be sort of an exception to this. You can make decisions right now that will indeed change the future.

But – you can’t control what those changes are. Be wise, think things through, and in God’s providence make the right calls.

In spite of all that, you don’t get to dictate the outcomes. You can in no fashion control the future. You don’t know what’s out there. If the supervolcano under Yellowstone chooses to blow, it’s gonna blow. That’s out of my control. Fundamentally, the future before you is out of your control, too.

7. What other people think of me.

This one is a bit like #2. The distinction I’d like to make is that while the opinion of others might involve, say, politics, what people think of you is personal, directed at you.

That’s out of my control for sure. I don’t really like that.

It may be that you’ve tried to be charming, or forceful, or used any number of tactics to make people like you.

How’d that work out for ya?

You simply can’t control what other people think of you. You can do all you can to present yourself in a winsome, positive way, but they are still going to have their own opinions of you. Those opinions might change over time. Or not.

In all my years of youth ministry, I finally came to the realization that some kids simply didn’t like me. I can’t imagine anyone not liking me, but it’s true. Oh. The horror.

What other people think of you is out of your hands. As I’ve said, you can be an influencer, but people are going to have their opinions of you no matter what.

So, there you go. There are many things out of my control. There are many things out of your control.

My admittedly lame counsel is for us to collectively get over it. I know, right?

Next time I’ll give you a list of things that are in your control. That’s what we want to major on.

Talk soon!

God knows.

Actually, God knows everything about you. He knows your thoughts before you think them. He knows what will be going on in your life on November 5, 2022, 7:13  p.m.

That’s called omnipotence. God knows all.

I don’t even begin to comprehend that.

My understanding of that truth, though, is actually pretty comforting. Maybe you knowing God knows will comfort you, too.

Hence, my very simple blog today.

There are plenty of things God wants you to know. I’ll confine my musings to just seven that are on my mind and heart today.

1.  We have to place our trust in Him. That means we have to be dependent on Him and desperate for Him.

I don’t know what your idea of “trust” involves. For me, I get this mental image of jumping off the roof of a building with nothing but asphalt below me. And I jump knowing a net will appear before I splatter.

Nuts, right? And yet, that’s not too far removed from what God offers us. It’s a matter of depending on Him to be God, first. Furthermore, it happens because we’re desperate.

God knows that we will often find ourselves in places where we’re absolutely at the end of our proverbial ropes. We are desperate for direction and relief. He moves us to a place of dependency on Him that grows out of desperation.

2.  God sees what we don’t see and God knows what we don’t know.

God’s plans for us are perfect. Not everyone seems to know that.

Aren’t we prone to second-guess or even avoid what we know to be right? The idea is that no matter where we go, God has already been there and is still waiting there. It’s that omnipotence thing, right?

The implications of this are simple and staggering. Stated in a way even I understand, it’s an acknowledgement that I am to daily put my life into His hands. No holding back. No wavering. Head down, full steam ahead. And if you want to classify that as blind obedience, good. That’s what He wants.

3.  Life is so stinking hard, but it’s even harder if we don’t have God’s perspective.

There have been times when I’ve wanted to holler, “God, if this is supposed to be a learning experience, then help me get it the first time around, because this is a class that I don’t want to have to repeat.” God knows that we are often in places in which we are clueless.

The trick, though, is to see things in our lives the way He sees them. He knows the outcome, sure, but He also knows what we’re dealing with in real-time.

We’re typically only aware of what’s happening right before our faces. God’s perspective is from a lofty place – He totally gets what we don’t get. We don’t have that vantage point, but we can sure trust the One who does. Here’s the truth: God is good, and what He does is always right.

4.  We must be willing to forgive and keep forgiving.

If you’ve hung around me, online or in person, for any length of time, you know this is a pony I ride a lot.

God knows how hard it is to forgive someone who has done you wrong. That wrong could be so monumental that you’d think there is no way in perdition you could forgive and move on.

Guess what. That forgiveness thing? I can’t find a loophole. We forgive others, period. Case closed.

The response that immediately surfaces is something like, “But Tony. You don’t know what they did to me! (Or one of my friends or family.)”

I still can’t find a scriptural out. It basically boils down to acknowledging that you’ll never go through experiences as brutal as what Jesus went through for us. Think about what they did to Him. And His forgiveness was shown by Him literally dying for those who’d abused Him.

There’s your model. God knows how hard that is for us; it’s actually impossible to have that kind of  forgiveness in our own flesh. That’s where His Spirit intervenes and intercedes. His Spirit forgives, even when our nature is rebelling. It’s all about releasing, yielding, our will to His.

5.  We’re broken people. We have to come to Him for reassembly.

Reassembly = healing.

I guarantee that the one universal with you and me is that we are dealing with, y’know, stuff. Issues, if you please.

I could offer a list of common issues, but mine aren’t yours, and vice-versa. What might be a big deal for me would be easy enough for you to blow off. God knows we’re different.

And – because we were probably raised to be self-sufficient and strong – it kills us to have to admit that we need fixing.

I’m not dismissing self-help. There are some solid ways we can improve.

I’d contend, though, that the Great Physician is also the Master Mechanic. If we’re broken, He can fix us, and His work is guaranteed.

It’s a matter of simply going to Him and admitting, “I got nuthin’.” He offers an extended warranty that never expires. Repairing broken people is a speciality of His.

6.  We have to be willing to share our stories and leave a legacy.

I’m not always encouraged by people who have it all worked out, or at least appear to or say they do. I am more ministered to by those fellow strugglers, who may not have it all together, but are on a journey of rightness with God.

This is potentially a high-risk activity, and you’ll have to determine your own tolerance for laying it all out there. But telling your story might be totally liberating for someone struggling in the same fashion you do. God knows that we need each other, and as risky as it might be for you to be appropriately transparent, you might just be the answer someone has been praying for. Cool.

That legacy thing? Yeah, you can make a lasting difference. You might accomplish that without even knowing it.

7.  Your story isn’t over yet. There’s more to come. God knows what He has you here for.

Know what? The reason you aren’t dead, the reason you’re breathing and reading this, is a clear indicator that you haven’t yet accomplished what God put you here to do.

Once I got my head wrapped around this, I felt like I was set free. I lost a lot of baggage. At the risk of sounding trite or shallow, you have a divine purpose. You have a role to fulfill in Kingdom work that is uniquely yours. No one has the same mix of gifts, talents, knacks, skills, and passions as you do.

So, yeah. God has plans for you, plans He put together before the foundations of the world were laid. God knows what He wants from you, and He will, by golly, move heaven and earth to assure you fulfill those plans. And it’s on Him to grant success.

He has more for you on earth to do, but, more significantly, He has more for you in eternity to come.

Talk later.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a hat tip to my buddy Brad Eubanks, who really got me thinking about these seven truths.

Uncertain times. Would you consider the days we live in uncertain times?

I watch the news, sometimes … if you’ve been following this blog for any length of time, you know that I encourage you in uncertain times to back away from that 24-hour news cycle. It will work on you. It will diminish your soul.

These may be uncertain times but, like the author of  Ecclesiastes said, there is nothing new under the sun. Things are bad. They’ve been bad before. Are things the worst they’ve ever been? Immerse yourself in current media, and yep, you’ll be persuaded that these days are ushering us toward the Apocalypse. Maybe, maybe not. Every generation in Christian history feels like it’s the last.

So what can you do to guard your heart in uncertain times? How can you keep from gradually losing your mind? I mean – you have responsibilities to your family, your classmates, your co-workers, your church to stay sane. You aren’t done here yet.

Still – when the media keeps using terms like “historic,” “unprecedented,” “never before seen,” then you start to believe it.

I’m tempted to go through a little history lesson. I’m a history geek, and I’m wary of inflicting that on others who aren’t as fascinated as I am, so I have to curb my enthusiasm. I will, though, touch on something from World War II – actually, it’s just a quote from the great C.S. Lewis, written in 1939. Check this out:

The war creates no absolutely new situation: it simply aggravates the permanent human situation so that we can no longer ignore it.

I mean.

This is quite the thought. What is happening in these days isn’t really all that different from what happened a month ago, a year ago, a hundred years ago, or a thousand years ago. People have been the same all these years – flawed, struggling, and messed-up in general. So, our world has those same traits.

I don’t mind using Lewis’ quote because it’s timeless and true. It’s tempting to think that today’s world is unique, and in many ways it is. But the universal thread running through these uncertain times is that every generation, every people group, is in needs of God’s mercy.

Here’s some ancient script, from James 2:13:

… because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment.

We all, no matter what is going on in our lives internally or externally, are in need of the mercy of God. There are times when we can cruise through life and not give much thought to this. Then there are those times when we are absolutely laid low and have to confront just how puny and frail we are.

When we look at the needs around us in uncertain times, we are even more aware of the need for mercy for all. God offers that to everyone – but we can’t just wish it on others. They have to ask for it.

What this kind of divine mercy does is that it brings about amazing change. It’s transformational. It moves the frightened to a place of strength. It gives hope to the hopeless. And it moves us from being selfish little clods to a place of sacrificial giving. Cool.

If you’re afraid, then, and face those moments of overwhelm, here’s some good stuff.

This courage I’m talking about – that courage that is so needed in uncertain times – is available. You do have to ask, of course. The trick, I think, comes in our willingness to step outside our miserable little selves and do something for someone else.

If all you do is look out for yourself; if you immerse yourself in your own needs to the neglect of others – you are going to continue to cower in fear and be messed up in general. I’m not saying I’m immune to this. I kinda like me. I’m pretty special to myself. But I view that as a sign of personal immaturity.

When you start letting these uncertain times keep your from thinking about the needs of your neighbor, you’ll be even that more uncertain because you are trapped in your bubble. Maybe it’s time to think of the good of others and the needs of those who are hurting. Not at the total sacrifice of your own self-care, obviously – you just can’t make it all about you all the time.

Believer, that’s what we signed up for.

Here’s some action points. Take ’em or leave ’em. I’m preaching to myself; I’m just letting you listen in.

• Your bank account looking grim? Give generously to your church.
• Afraid of getting sick? Spend some time helping some vulnerable people around you. I just bet there’s someone in the nursing home who’d love a visit.
• The news got you down and depressed? Shut yourself off from it for a season, and instead read or watch something wholesome and encouraging. Your Bible might not be a bad choice.
• Do you have negative friends who try your soul? Love ’em, but don’t submit yourself to their whining and complaining. Never, ever, ever let them bring you down.
• You know that friend on social media who posts stuff and you think “are you nuts?” Again, guard yourself. Keep scrolling. You won’t change their minds with your brilliance and research. Your experts can probably beat up their experts, anyway. It genuinely isn’t worth it.
• Finally, cultivate a life of wisdom. That doesn’t mean just being smart. It means you are going to seek God first and ask Him for that wisdom. In this season, you’re going to need it. I’m not seeing much wisdom being deployed. Pretend like sharing wisdom is all up to y0u.

Uncertain times call for those who can be certain of God. It’s a daily dependence on Him for all things, big and little. Be certain for the sake of others. People need to see that your anchor holds.

Be an agent of His love.

Talk later!

Life is full of hard lessons, now isn’t it?

This should be self-evident, but we could probably save ourselves a lot of grief if we’d just simply chill. What I’ll share with you today falls in that vein. This pondering on hard lessons might strike you as defeatist. I’ll go with it anyway; you may find this expendable.

Or it might just be what you need to hear today. It’s certainly what I needed.

With that as background, let’s peruse this. These are my three hard lessons. You could probably make up your own list. And this is just three out of many.

 1. Some people can’t or won’t change. Leave them alone. Leave them where they are.

Oh, y’all, this is so not me. I look around and see people suffering, frankly. I’m not talking about just physical ailments, although that could be part of the mix. Rather, I’m seeing people setting themselves up for heartache, embracing the wrong kind of pain, and being taught some hard lessons … and not growing because of them.

So here’s Tony, watching someone make perfectly soul-scarring choices, and watching their life unravel.

And I’m learning to leave them right where they are.

Hear me: this doesn’t mean that I don’t care. Quite the opposite. It just means that, despite the fact that I always want to fix people, much in the same way a mechanic would want to fix a car that continued to stall, I have to take my hands off.

When it comes to hard lessons, some people just have to experience some hard lessons. What this implies comes from Alcoholic Anonymous – paraphrased, it says that “you can’t want something for someone more than they want it for themselves.” In other words – hands off.

So I, in effect, just have to leave people alone. The upside? I can intercede. For we who are believers, this may be something that doesn’t come easy. Deeds, not words, right? Let’s get our hands on that person hurting and make things right with our wisdom and advice.

Nope. Take them to Jesus. And leave there. Be available, be present, but let God take them through the hard lessons.

2.  Accept the tough situations, and the good situations, for what they are.

This might be tough to absorb, but there are a whole lot of things in life that are out of your hands. But none of them, nothing, not a thing is out of God’s hands.

Capisce?

To clarify: this is not an invitation to roll over and play dead, turn a blind eye, or whatever metaphor you care to invoke. The hard lessons component to this is that you simply must accept what is in your life, good and bad, because God has either allowed it or ordained it.

There are some deep theological weeds to get into here. Not today, not from me.

Rather, understand that for believers there is no such thing as “it just is.” It is what it is, certainly, but again – it’s no accident that it is.

I’m all about providence and sovereignty. God’s in control. Were he not, if there was just one renegade molecule in the universe, then He would have to abdicate His throne.

Yes, work for change as you are directed by the Holy Spirit. But exercise some wisdom, too. You may just need to take your hands off things you can’t directly impact.

Again, intercede. Accept that God is Lord of all, and for pity’s sake, relax.

3. Realize not every action needs a reaction or response.

This is one of the really hard lessons for me. I blame it on social media – or, rather, my abuse of it.

Here’s the scenario. I’ll be scrolling through Facebook, looking for news and updates or friends, and finding memes that crack me up.

Then I’ll read a post, invariably from someone I love or respect, and think to myself, “Are you nuts?” (Things from strangers don’t affect me this way.)

I’ll read something that is so blatantly wrongheaded and untrue, something that was cut and pasted or reposted without one scintilla of rational thought or vetting, and think “do you even know how ignorant this makes you sound?”

Then I get all self-righteous, as in “I’d never share anything so moronic. I’m better/smarter/more reasoned than that.” If it’s from someone I know to be a Christian, I think, “You’re making us all look bad.”

At that point, I feel the need to challenge that person’s thoughts, because, hey, don’t you want to know if you’re wrong?

I’ll type out one of my typical, reasoned, eloquent responses. I’ll put a lot of thought in it, because I don’t want to be reactionary. I want them to know of my respect for them, their measured thinking, and (hopefully) without dissing them, I’ll dismantle them by pointing out (in love) the fallacies in their statements.

Then I’ll sit back, all smug and self-satisfied…

And then delete it all.

Here’s one of my really hard lessons I’ve had to learn: I don’t have to correct everyone. Know why? I don’t always know their story.

People post and share out of a sense of who they are, what values they hold, and what beliefs are cherished by them. If I say anything, even if I’m trying to correct a position they hold, it invariably comes across as an attack on them. Most people can’t separate their beliefs from who they are.

And, as hard as this is to conceive, I might be wrong.

Of all the hard lessons, this is the toughest of the three for me. I simply don’t need to respond to everything I read. Sometimes I might. Sometimes I should. But, by and large, it seems wise for me to just listen.

That’s my three hard lessons. If you’ve of a mind to comment, I’d love to hear your hard lessons, too.

Be well.

I went to bed last night brokenhearted.

For a whole host of reasons, I can’t give details as to why I’m brokenhearted. It’s a combination of factors, which are primarily out of my hands. It’s grief compounded upon grief, and it’s not because of something I’ve done personally. Rather, it’s an awareness of what sin does.

This morning I awoke just as brokenhearted as I was at bedtime. I turned to God for comfort, direction, and wisdom. And as He’s prone to do – boom! He served up just exactly what I needed. That’s the way He rolls.

It all sprang from a verse in Isaiah – Isaiah 57:15, to be exact. This verse just cried out to be unpacked, and here’s my takeaways.

The question for us today is simple: Is your heart hurting today?

Check this out, from the New Living Translation:

The high and lofty one who lives in eternity, the Holy One, says this: “I live in the high and holy place with those whose spirits are contrite and humble. I restore the crushed spirit of the humble and revive the courage of those with repentant hearts.”

It’s acceptable and encouraged to do the whole “breathe in, breathe out” routine while reading this and evaluating the state of your heart right now. As you wade into this, understand that feeling the presence of God in this very moment is what is called for.

Look. I don’t know of anyone who would willingly choose to experience a broken heart. The jaw-dropping reality, and what all my ponderings today hinge on, is that Jesus willingly suffered and died in our place so that He could reign as high priest in heaven.

He knows just exactly what it’s like to be brokenhearted. He’s been there. Isn’t that something?

The implications are huge.

What this means is that you can cry in His embrace, as a hurtin’ puppy, and know that if you’re brokenhearted He catches every tear.

One handicap we have, though, is that it’s easy and tempting to ignore the pain of a broken heart. You know, just soldier on, eyes fixed ahead, unbowed and determined. That sounds noble, but it’s not really a good idea, especially if you want to be authentic.

See, there’s a healing process when you bring your brokenheartedness to Jesus, and it’s a necessity for spiritual health, growth, and comfort.

Jesus is ready to comfort you, and it’s personally bewildering as to why I don’t lean into Him when I’m hurting.

There is a blessing that comes from pain. I know, right? That’s counterintuitive. Still, it’s that crystalline hurt that pushes us toward God and we experience His love in a way we simply can’t otherwise. It’s a blessing for those of us who are brokenhearted. 

It’s actually kind of crazy, in a good way. If we let ourselves hold back and try to nurse our own wounds, we stifle that supernatural healing and restoration He wants us to experience. We just can’t  let that hurt keep us from drawing close to Him.

He wants us to pour out our pain to Him so that His words can be balm to our souls.

I’m amazed, even after all these years of walking with God, that He sent Jesus to die for me. This is so fundamental, so basic, and yet we in our familiarity skate right past the most profound truth imaginable. 

Our requests to God might include:

• Give me courage to walk through this painful valley. There is a purpose to me being here.
• I want to hear Your voice – a whisper is fine, but if You need to holler to get my attention, that’s fine too.
• Reveal Your heart to me. I thought I could discern it when things were going well, but apparently You’ve had to get out the big guns.
• I believe You’re preparing a good and right path for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s all flat ground and no rocks.
• Don’t let me pull away from You in my grief and suffering. My mouth wants to say “whatever it takes,” but I tend to choke on those words. I’ll need some help with this one.
• Remind me of Your love and compassion. It’s so easy for me to forget those basics.

I don’t know how you visualize God – what your mental image of Him is. It’s different for everyone. It’ll be helpful if you could do that, even right now. Just soak in that sweet space.

Remind yourself that God loves you unconditionally. He’s totally faithful. 

There may be some things in your heart that need to be cleaned out – things that are hampering that blessing that will ease your brokenhearted spirit. Even in times of pain and brokenness you’re still blessed.

God doesn’t want you to deny your pain. If you’re brokenhearted, He wants you to draw near to Him with no holds barred.

Check out Isaiah 57:15 in the English Standard Version:

For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.”

More good stuff: Because God knows all the details of your broken heart, and when you cry He’s right there saving your tears, you are not alone in your brokenness. What a gift that is! He understands your situation completely and is standing by your side through it all.

And here’s a monster truth, to make things even sweeter: There is a gift of hope from Jesus that He can lift your spirit again, just as He rose again after and during the heartbreak of the Cross. Brokenhearted? Claim this.

Let’s do Isaiah 57:15 one more time, this time from the Amplified Bible:

For the high and exalted One, He who inhabits eternity, Whose name is Holy says this, “I dwell on the high and holy place, but also with the contrite and humble in spirit In order to revive the spirit of the humble and to revive the heart of the contrite [overcome with sorrow for sin].”

That last phrase really captures what it means to be contrite – overcome with sorrow for sin.

This version talks about sorrow over sin. Is that not often the cause of us being brokenhearted? This can be a scary thought.

It may be that the last time you were brokenhearted was simply because of your own personal sin. Through that, God showed you more about Himself through your brokenness. He doesn’t want you to just know facts about Him. He wants to draw you really close, and conviction of sin can absolutely take you to that place of intimacy. 

He doesn’t fail you. He doesn’t leave you or forsake you. But He will absolutely use brokenheartedness to make us right. 

If there’s something about pain you need to know, it’s this: God will take you into a deeper relationship with Him than you can imagine, but it’ll hurt in the process. You’ll be brokenhearted. So instead of running from the pain, you lean into it, take it to God (and don’t try to excuse or sugarcoat it), and every single time He’ll bring depths of beauty out of it.

Jesus endured pain so that we could have a relationship with Him. Do this:

• Ask Him to comfort and heal your heart. Now.
• Ask Him to remove anything you’ve done wrong.
• Ask Him to let you experience His nearness in a fresh way. 
• Ask Him to restore your peace, joy, and hope.

If the pain in your heart throbs again and you find yourself brokenhearted, remind yourself of this simple truth: God is near.

Talk later.

Find rest. Walk in God’s way and find Him.

Rest seems to be in short supply these days. There’s a splendid irony at work here. Even though the world has slowed down because of the pandemic, we are more internally unsettled than ever. We may still be busy, but there’s that uneasy churning in our soul that is taking its toll.

So rest is something we’d like to experience, right? Just a sense of peace, of settling down, of being free from the worry and angst of the world.

Since I’m speaking primarily to believers, you understand that God promises rest. Ancient script states in Matthew 11:28-30:

²⁸ “Come to me,all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.²⁹ Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

That’s good stuff right there. The promise of rest. So why the struggle many of us have?

Beats me. But I think a lot of it has to do with simple trust in God.

Here’s some good news about rest. Part of finding rest, experiencing rest, comes with the realization that no evil can touch you.

That does not mean, of course, that you will ever be freed from the presence of evil.  We live in a fallen world, right? So evil abounds.

But evil will not harm you in the strictest sense. It can certainly influence you, but when it comes to eternity – and that’s what I’m talking about – it will not cause you to lose your reward.

You will suffer in this world. You’ll deal with illness and loss. Bad things will happen. Evil things, even. But they can’t touch that  part of  you that belongs to God.

I’m not advocating denial here. I am advocating rest coming from knowing you are His, and He is yours. That’s a pretty secure place to be in. That is an opportunity for finding rest.

Rest means not to struggle.

Consider that. Struggle is the antithesis of rest. When you’re fighting, you aren’t resting. You’re on alert, you’re all wound up, and you’re a bundle of tension.

I wonder if part of our struggles are imposed by the world. Does the word “overwhelmed” resonate with you? Feel like you’re fighting something all the time?

Here’s where that line of thinking will invariably lead. You’ll find yourself struggling, fretting, and feeling swamped by life itself. Worse, there may be a sense you’re all alone in your struggles. Awful. You can’t find rest.

That loneliness comes from a sense that no one can really understand what you’re facing. Actually, that’s true. While some people can empathize, no one will ever totally get it because you are unique in every way. That’s not a bad thing.

I don’t have a magic formula for finding rest for you, or really even showing you how to find rest. So let’s just stick  to basics, shall we?

God alone has perfect understanding of you. He understands you even when you don’t understand you. Crazy, right?

When you need perfect understanding, that’s where you go.

When you need the awareness of a perfect, loving, tender relationship, that’s really your only option.

So. For those days when you’re overwhelmed, when rest seems like a fantasy, and you want to say to the world “Please understand me!”, here’s the good news.

Someone does.

Be well.

Tony’s question: Would you share with the rest of us what YOU do to experience the peace and rest only God can give? Leave your comments below, and don’t forget to share with your friends.

Let’s talk about the judge and the hero. This is sort of a heart cry for me today.

I know this isn’t literally doable, but think what it would be like to write down every thought you’ve ever had and giving it to someone who would read every word.

Every single word.

And after reading it, they would judge you.

Speaking for me. Bruh. That’s downright scary. It doesn’t matter if they have any power over you because of their knowledge. Just them knowing is terrifying enough.

Believers and non-believers both, here’s the truth. God is the judge. He sees our list.

We are guilty, oh yes we are. But then our hero comes.

When our hero – Jesus – comes, and we come fully to grips with our sin, then we can come to fully treasure Him. Because of His sacrifice, God looks at us and sees the sinless life of Jesus. He doesn’t see the darkness of our hearts, but sees purity instead.

This, of course, is not some new revelation. It’s Theology 101. This is a bedrock of our faith. The problem is that for a whole host of reasons we struggle to internalize this and make it a reality in our lives. If all this is too simplistic for you, you can safely navigate away from this blog. But I got more to say.

As long as we live on earth, that new and pure spirit we received when we believed is going to do bloody, messy battle with our old sin nature.

So I want you to struggle right along with me today. Buckle up.

This all comes from a verse that fundamentally gripped me earlier today. I can’t shake it. Here ya go:

Jeremiah 17:10: I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward each person according to their conduct, according to what their deeds deserve. (New International Version)

And from the New Living Translation – you know, for variety:

I the Lord look into the heart, and test the mind. I give to each man what he should have because of his ways and because of the fruit that comes from his works.

That circles us back around to the idea of our judge and our hero … one in the same, actually. How do you balance this?

• Yes, I’m guilty. Yes, I am forgiven.
• Yes, You judge me. Yes, You cleanse me.
• Yes, I deserve Your wrath. Yes, Jesus takes the full force of it.

Have mercy. Mercy.

This stirs up a lot of questions. I think it’s appropriate to ask “Lord, is there anything in my life right now that would keep me from hearing from You? Because I don’t want to block or hinder You … I need to receive.”

This scripture needs to be teased out, because it’s critical to our understanding.

• I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind. Well, yeah. He’s God. And it’s not like He has too much going on to not be aware of everything in your head and heart.
• To reward each person according to their conduct … Apparently what we do and how we act does have some bearing on how our lives go.
• According to what their deeds deserve. So, in other words, we get what’s coming to us, and what that is is totally up to God.

How does that make you feel? Burdened? Heavy? Fearful? Shame? How does that make you feel about Jesus? Because – and this is huge – He takes what you deserve. That’s the hero part.

Maybe you’re feeling something new or unexpected as that sinks in.

There are several things to be thankful for here:

1. The Creator of the universe knows you.
2. He is concerned about your heart.
3. He has provided relief in Christ.

Jeremiah was called the “weeping prophet.” His heart ached for his people. His book is all about God’s judgment on Judah for its runaway, awful idolatry. They were putting their own motives and desires ahead of those for God. (Sounds kinda familiar … even in the church.)

It was a timely message then, and a timely message now.

God knew their hearts. He knows ours. Yours. Mine.

My convoluted mind takes me in all sorts of directions. I can imagine myself sitting in the presence of God, trying to write out all my thoughts. I can imagine Him correcting me when I leave one out.

I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I’d like for it to feel cleansing.

Think about emptying yourself before God. It’d be like a complete moral inventory. This might be a good time to take a deep breath and ask Him for that feeling of being cleansed.

Don’t choke on this, but the wrath God feels toward the sin in your heart – your inventory – is the same it was when Jeremiah wrote this 600 years before Christ.

Since we’ve dug this deep, let’s dig some more. This might be a real challenge, but join me anyway. I’m gonna invoke your sanctified imagination.

Imagine standing in the ring with the heavyweight boxing champion of the world. Currently it’s Tyson Fury (a great Avengers name). This guy is a massive human … a walking picture of strength and power.

Here’s some scary trivia: The average professional heavy weight boxer hits at between 1,200 to 1,700 pounds per square inch, or psi. Legendary boxer Mike Tyson had a punch that was measured at 1,800 psi, or almost one ton of force per square inch. Pounds per square inch is usually measured using pressure gauges, but for boxing measurements, special machines are used. These machines calculate how hard a punch is by measuring the power of the punch at impact, calculating the size of the impact zone, and converting that to psi. So if a punch is 1,500 psi and covers four square inches of space, it is the equivalent of 6,000 pounds of impact. That’s about the weight of three black rhinoceroses.

Now, imagine getting struck in the chest by those three rhinos. You can’t imagine that. Try anyway.

Imagine that punch being the wrath of God. The judge. You receive His full fury because of your inventory of sins.

Okay. So now – imagine Jesus stepping into the ring and in front of that punch. He takes the full force of it, all of it. Imagine that. Let it be your prayer.

What do you whisper to Jesus as He stands up from that punch? As He is resurrected from a punch intended for you that should have killed Him? What do you say to Him?

What do you say to your moral inventory?

God is both the righteous Judge and merciful Father. He’s all good, and by His nature He can’t have anything to do with evil. You have evil in your heart, as do I. Think of the things you’ve thought and done and said.

He knows those completely. And yet, we’re forgiven completely.

It’s entirely appropriately to ask God to purify your thoughts and to root out the  darkness in your soul.

Here’s an optional extra credit activity. Begin to literally write out your inventory. Open your heart to God’s examination. Be thankful to Jesus for scratching out each one of them in real time as you write them. I’ve done this in the past, and it was nothing less than a little miracle.

He’s your judge, but He’s also your hero. Claim that.

Talk later!

I ran across this quote from E.B. White (you read Charlotte’s Web, right?) and it is haunting me, because it has to do with being compassionate and upright. I want to tease this one out.

“As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time.”

I’m not sure why White added the adjectives he did – upright man and compassionate woman – when women can be upright and men can be compassionate too. But I’ll go with that.

So what are the traits of an upright man?

• Standing tall. I’ve heard people referred to as “straight up.” I like that. 
• Unbowed. You can’t be upright and bowed at the same time. Bowing is an appropriate response to Deity, but facing opposition with determination – that’s being unbowed. Or it’s simply being brave.
• Honest. Like not ducking your head when you’re ashamed of something you’ve said or done. Owning up to error.
• Having integrity. That’s your yes being yes and your no being no. Folks should be able to interact with you without fear of you doing something underhanded.
• Transparent. What you see is what you get. No ambivalence. 

And a compassionate woman?

• Caring. Not just a surface “doing the right thing.” It’s a matter of investing your heart in someone or something else.
• Sacrificial. While you certainly must look after yourself – you can’t draw water from an empty well – at times it’s appropriate and necessary to give beyond yourself.
• Tenderhearted. This is a desired trait for everyone, naturally, but my thought is that to be tenderhearted is to let your guard down and empathize with someone else’s need. Which means you might even share in their feelings.
• Creative. You ever thought about how you can show you care? Words are okay, but sometimes feeble. Sometimes “doing” is good, if it means helping in a tangible way. But sometimes just being – offering presence – is what is called for.
• Unwavering. This means loving until the end. This is tricky; sometimes you can love someone and realize you can’t be what they need you to be, and have to distance yourself to some degree. Still, love is non-negotiable. It’s not selective.

I am encouraged when I have the opportunity to be around upright men and compassionate women. Here are four truths:

For one thing, it keeps me from feeling alone. You may have moments of thinking that you are the only one who “gets it.” You are frustrated and hurt because others don’t see the same needs you do. Upright men and compassionate women inspire me to be more in the moment, to unleash my heart, and to genuinely strive to make a difference in my little world.

Secondly, White said that the “contagion may spread.” Can being upright and compassionate take on viral traits? I’d like to think so.

There have been times when I’ve sought to take the high road in a contentious debate. I’ve wanted to be a peacemaker. Problem is, some people thrive in a good fight, and I’m not talking about the kind of disagreements that lead to an aimable solution to a problem. I’m talking about fighting because of pure meanness. 

When people aren’t living their very best lives, they sometimes resort to commiseration through competitive yelling. 

I want to do my little part to banish that – at least from my life, and from the lives of others who would give kindness a chance. Listening to each other, for starters. Spreading that seems to me to be a noble endeavor.

Third, what do you do with a desolate scene? It’s hard not to think about Ukraine when invoking that phrase.

Check this out. This is Ukrainian navy musicians performing in front of a barricade made of sandbags near the opera theater in central Odessa, Ukraine, March 8, 2022. (REUTERS/Iryna Nazarchuk)

How can hope thrive in the midst of chaos and desolation? Well, by golly, it obviously can. It brings to mind the legendary Phoenix, rising from the ashes. 

Ukraine is teaching all of us a lot about being upright and compassionate. I’m seeing those virtues being played out in real time. It gives me hope.

Finally, there is this: Hope is the thing left to us.

I’ll ride this horse until it drops. You are aware of the name of this website, right? Because, in the deepest parts of my bone marrow, I can not find any reason for hopelessness, especially for the believer. 

When you say “it’s hopeless,” what you are saying is that you are psychic, that you can foresee the future, and you know there is no chance for things to get better. 

How can you know that? The circumstances you find yourself in are transient. Yesterday was different from today, and tomorrow will be, in like fashion, different too. 

It may be that you’ve perceived yourself to be tossed about on the waves of fate, unable to control what is happening around you. In some measure, that’s true. But there is a whole lot you can do to have hope, the main thing being to have faith in God. I promise He is not staying up all night fretting over the state of His Creation and wondering how He’s to fix this mess. He has plans and divine intent, and He is in no fashion obligated to let us in on His designs. 

Make no mistake. This is a bad time. A very bad time, and certainly the worst I’ve seen in my years here. And yet, for me to say that betrays my short-sightedness. The best I can manage is a temporal view of things, which consists of the here and now and whatever my memory can resurrect from days gone by. 

There is this: There is always hope. Always. It is the gift of a benevolent and gracious Giver. And we need to learn to accept that gift without question. It sustains us in the dark days we are experiencing even now, and have been experiencing for some time.

O be joyful.

Talk later!

Here are 10 things never to say with someone dealing with mental health issues

I can’t find the quote or source, but it goes something like this: “Some people pretend to be sick. Those with mental health issues pretend to be well.”

Depression, anxiety, fears … they are part of the human experience. Fact is, there are many, many people who deal with these issues on a daily basis, and you’d never know it.

These are diseases, and should be treated as such.

But – if you have a friend or loved one who deals with mental health challenges, I’ve seen that people often mean well, but are clueless when it comes to what to say.

Here’s my own list of ten things not to say:

1. “It’s all in your head.” Well, it is. Sort of. While some mental health issues are due to dysfunctional thinking, there are a whole host of physical components that can play into it. The phrase “chemical imbalance” is tossed around casually, but the roots of mental illness can often be found in something going on internally, and not necessarily in “your head.”
2. “It’s not as bad as it seems.” Guess what – what is no big deal for one person can be absolutely crippling for another. What you’re saying with that phrase is “my worldview is better than yours.” I mean. Really?
3. “I know what you mean. I had to turn the TV off because what I saw on the news and it was depressing me.” Okay, props for trying to find a point of identification. This attempt at relating to what your loved one is going through is kind-hearted, but also misguided. It implies that those two things are the same or of similar consequence and minimizes their pain.
4. “There are plenty of people in worse condition than you.” That’s great – how about encouraging someone by comparing them to someone else? That’s so wrong on so many levels I don’t know where to start. For all of us – comparing yourself to others can mess you up. How about focusing on what makes you unique?
5. “Are you okay?” That sounds pretty innocuous, and isn’t really too bad. The danger is that it puts the other person in a place where they’re almost obligated to say “I’m fine,” when that isn’t the case. It also implies that the person needs to get better immediately, and mental health issues seldom have a quick fix. I’ve gotten to where I respond “No, I’m not okay!” That effectively ends the conversation. Honesty and candor can do that.
6. “You have so much to be thankful for.” And that, of course, is true. Problem is that you can be thankful and hurting at the same time. We as believers are supernaturally blessed, but we are not exempt from spending some parallel time in some dark places. That phrase implies that if you were really consistently thankful, you wouldn’t feel the way you do.
7. “Get over it.” Hey, thanks for displaying some grace and mercy.
8. “Things could be worse.” This is a companion to #5. It’s like saying, “Fred lost his job, got diagnosed with cancer, and ran over his cat.” If you’ve never dealt with mental illness personally, then it’s hard for you to understand that depression, anxiety, etc., don’t necessarily have to have triggers. They just are.
9. “Just be positive.” And while you’re at it, tell someone with diabetes to “think happy thoughts” instead of taking their insulin. If it were only that simple.
10. “Have you prayed about it?” The implication here for the believer is “you must not have prayed, or else God would have delivered you, so your faith is weak.” My response is to take a look at scripture, for starters – check out words from David, Elijah, and other godly people. And understand, too, that God is the Great Physician, all healing ultimately comes from Him, but He has all sorts of healing tools at His disposal – proper counseling and medications, for example.

Finally, I’ll share some things I’ve heard that are helpful:

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Talk to me. I’m listening.”

“Would you like to talk about what you’re going through? Or is there someone else you’d be comfortable talking to?”

“I am proud of you for getting the support you need.”

“What can I do to help?”

“I am there for you, you’re not alone in this.”

“You are important to me.”

“I love you.”

Talk later!

God allows you (and me) to suffer. Ever wonder why?

That’s a tough one. While I’ve addressed this in my blog before, it bears revisiting. Man, I hate to even bring it up. And yet – folks sure do seem to be hurting a lot these days. They’re frustrated, afraid, and wear worry like a shroud. 

I’d be presumptuous to try to define suffering for you – what is agonizing for you might not be a big deal for me, and vice-versa. 

Those questions – why is this happening to me? Is God testing me? – can be mighty troubling, especially when answers don’t seem to be forthcoming. 

If God allows you to suffer, something is happening. And we don’t ask those questions when things are going well. 

We ask them when we’re hurting, backed into a corner, and when in general life is going badly.

There are also degrees of suffering. If the AC goes out in our house in August, and fans just don’t move the air around, then I might say that I’m suffering. If I sprain my ankle, I might call that suffering. If I have cancer and I’m racked by excruciating pain, that’s suffering, right? If someone I love is dying of some dread disease, and I’m watching their life flow away in a toxic stream, then both of us might well be suffering. 

If you’re a believer, then God allows you to suffer, too, and your faith in Christ doesn’t mean a grief-free life.That, incidentally, is one reason many folks just reject Christianity outright. 

Y’all, there’s a tenet of our faith that we often overlook or ignore, and it can strike into the heart of the very devout. Intellectually, you may know better, but when life happens, all that ethereal head knowledge can just vanish. You are going to suffer, and God is going to allow it. 

Many Christians, perhaps even most, believe that if they are God’s child, then things should go well. Suffering? Nope. They think they’re exempt. I mean, if they’re a believer, if they are living for Him, if they’re good people, then all should be fine. 

Before you get all up in my face, saying, “I know that. I understand that. That’s Chrisitianity 101,”  do a quick gut-check. Have you ever asked “Why me? What have I done? Do I have some unconfessed sin in my life and this is payback from God?”

Well, there is sowing and reaping to consider. Most of the grief in our lives we bring on ourselves because we’ve wilfully made some idiotic choices. There is, however, plenty of evidence and first-hand experience that informs us that suffering comes in spite of our wise choices, pure intentions, and relationship with God.

That God allows you to suffer is clear. But why do we suffer in this world?

I love a numbered list. Let me offer four reasons why we suffer. Maybe this will help, but in the face of such a profound and mysterious truth, I’m not going to be able to give you any fresh revelations. These are things you already know, but I’m sharing these as simple reminders. 

1. We live in a broken world, and so we struggle. Think about mental struggles – we are bombarded daily with horrific news. We spend too much time in our own heads. Our minds start kicking themselves. This, of course, dovetails with emotional struggles. We are depressed, anxious, and in a funk. See how these feed on each other? Physically? We eat wrong when we’re dealing with mental and emotional issues. We become sedentary, or else turn into gym rats, losing ourselves in fitness, running, etc. (and hear me – I’m for sure not dissing any of these disciplines. It’s just when they’re used as escape tools that we might have problems.) Finally, how about spiritual struggles? You know, when God seems distant and silent and when our prayers don’t get any further than ceiling height. All these can be evidence of our living in a broken world.
2. There is abundant evil in the world. We call that sin, and it’s in us and those around us. Sin brings suffering – ultimately, it brings death. Often we embrace sin because, let’s face it, it’s fun. For a season, anyway. It’s our sin, and others’ sin, that brings on suffering in the world. Fact.
3. God allows suffering. I can’t stress this too much. Of course He could end all suffering. Guess what? He’s going to. In the realm of the mysterious, in the providence of an all-knowing and all-loving God, suffering will be annihilated. Jesus will return. We don’t know when, and while it can be an intriguing pastime to try to discern when, the best approach is to simply say “soon,” which, of course, is true. 
4. Suffering makes God’s love and grace even that much more sweet. Think about this. Let’s say Sunday your preacher shares a sermon that talks about God’s love. You appreciate and affirm it. It gives you all the feels. But – what if a person dying with cancer in the final hours of their life talks about God’s love, don’t you think you’d respond differently? Or, perhaps, someone gets a generous and unexpected tax refund, and they say, “I’m so blessed!” Compare that to a woman in Haiti I heard about, and her most prized possession was a big bucket – she was able to cook in it, haul water in it, wash clothes in it. And she said, “I’m so blessed.” Is there a bit of a difference you see?

One of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes comes into play as you realize God allows you to suffer:

We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.

A deaf world, indeed. It might just be that the world we currently live in is being molded by God into something that will really, really get our attention.

I’ve tried, over the years, not to evaluate anything in my life apart from the backdrop of the cross. If I’m suffering, and I think I’m being punished, I have to remind myself – nope, Jesus took my punishment. Or if I’m tempted to think that God doesn’t care, then I remind myself – hey, Tony, God does care. He’s lost a son because He loved you. 

I suppose when you resolutely deal with knowing God allows you to suffer, you come to understand that God loves you definitively because of Calvary.

He will use the junk you’re going through for your good and the good of those around you. You will never walk alone. 

We are going to suffer in this world. Count on that. We don’t have to wish it on ourselves – that’s sort of weird – but we need to be ready for it. We can love God in good times, and we can love God when we’re hurting. And we should call others to share in the ultimate victory that Jesus won for us … because He, too, suffered. 

Talk later!