“Your Name is higher, your Name is greater, ALL my hope is in you.” A variation of that will be my next tattoo, that’s how strong it resonates in my soul. Why?

What if “all my hope is in you” were the practical theology with which I lived my life? Emphasis on the ALL. Sure, I can sing that Christ is the “anchor of my soul,” and somehow I’d provide a faint echo of Hebrews 6. But what about ALL my hope…is that true?

Is ALL my hope in Christ?

I confess, in my life, it isn’t.

But, I think, it has to be.

Because there is hope in the promise of the Cross. But until that semblance of hope becomes ALL the hope you will know, it isn’t really hope…it’s just insurance. Hope isn’t insurance. Hope isn’t a backup plan. Hope isn’t Allstate.

Netflix got it right — it’s “All or Nothing.” Either ALL my hope is in Christ or it doesn’t matter. Because what Christ accomplished either matters to the utmost, or is just another side note in historical textbooks.

The point is this: is it ALL? Think about it from a poker perspective…am I holding anything back? Am I playing all my chips holding a stack back?

I’ve pretty much doubled down on this Jesus thing. But any logician worth his/her salt will show you that you have to be true to your argument. In mine, it’s either ALL or NAUGHT. There is no in-between.

In Hebrews 6, we remember Genesis 15, when the Almighty God walked among the pieces, signifying the severity and ultimate promise of His covenant — that if God Himself failed in his promise He Himself would be killed afterwards — He (God) cemented the final idea that hope will not disappoint.

So it has to be ALL my hope. It can’t be some of my effort, my talent, my smallish-offensive-line-touchdown-drive push into the endzone. If that were it, it wouldn’t be hope, it would be drive…work ethic…grit…desire.

My hope points not to an emotion, or a gumption, or a feeling on a particular day. My hope points to a man, a living hope, a resurrection. A hope that never, eternally, disappoints.

Jesus.

That’s the jam. That’s where ALL hope has either already died…or lives eternally.

— — — — —

I’m happy to talk, answer questions, or share about this or anything else I’ve posted. Feel free to reach out. 💙 You can also follow me on Twitter

ALL My Hope was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Not a lot of folks know about this part of the story, mostly because this topic (for anyone who’s experienced it) is extremely personal and, perhaps more importantly, there is still a stigma attached to anything surrounding the word “opioid” or “drug.” Even for folks who have legitimate medical conditions under the care of licensed physicians, these are things you just don’t talk about because unfortunately in a lot of minds the line between “patient” and “addict” is very blurry.

The Timeline

About 7 years ago I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease, and in 2012 I blew two discs in my lumbar spine requiring surgery. I had been on painkillers on and off throughout that time as my Crohn’s flared and in post-surgery recovery but nothing chronic. My back pain increased in the years following my surgery (I realize now it was probably due to excess scar tissue rather than the actual injury) and in 2014 I began seeing a physician for pain management.

On paper I was the perfect candidate — Crohn’s Disease, blown out lower back, fairly big decrease in quality of life, inability to do certain activities, etc. I don’t have regrets per se, I think it was the right decision to seek treatment, but in hindsight I wish I had made the duration shorter, and focused more on treatments that have now brought me the most relief (consistent exercise, targeted strength training, Myofascial Release, and an anti-inflammatory diet). Nevertheless, I remained in a chronic opioid regimen for the better part of 2 years.

Things started off fine enough, I saw some relief, and didn’t have any major side effects. My doc told me I’d become dependent (which I did), but everything was wrapped in a “don’t worry, these medications are incredibly safe, just do what we say” message. What’s not communicated is how these medications dramatically affect the brain, and how little control you have over them. Sam Quinones, in his book Dreamland, writes that the morphine molecule has

“Evolved somehow to fit, key in lock, in the receptors that all mammals, especially humans, have in their brains and spines…creating a far more intense euphoria than anything we come by internally. It creates a higher tolerance with use and exacts a mighty vengeance when a human dares to stop using it.”

As more studies are conducted on opioids and related drugs, doctors are realizing how quickly a “relief” turns into a runaway train. The first rule of medicine is “do no harm” and unfortunately too many medical professionals realized too late that this directly applies to chronic opioid use. Opioids aren’t meant to be used for extended periods of time in part because their efficacy wanes with use, but the brain’s absolute need for them doesn’t.

It’s a problem on top of a problem because not only does the brain reprogram itself to need more of these drugs, it also stops producing its own “relief” agents like Dopamine and Serotonin. Why would it, when the euphoric effects from these drugs are so much more than the brain can produce on its own? Additionally, proven side effects of opioids are that they actually increase “pain” sensations — almost like a self-preservation mechanism to trick your brain into thinking it’s in more pain so that it consumes more of the drug.

I experienced all of this. I “needed” higher doses to maintain adequate pain relief, which kickstarted and cultivated this vicious cycle. I began ignoring doctor’s orders and consistently took more medication than I should (and knew that I should) which caused hellish withdrawals towards the end of the month before I could get a refill. My brain became obsessed with these medications — when was my next dose, how many do I have left, can I make through to my next refill, how can I get more? I became addicted. I even explored other methods to procure these medications outside of proper channels, something that, in my right mind, I would NEVER do. They literally made me crazy.

I can’t emphasize enough the incredibly negative impact these medications had on my brain. I mentioned before how little control you actually have over these medications. They affect you at a biological level that you have no control over, and you aren’t even aware of it. You lose control while thinking you’re in control and even when you realize you aren’t in control you somehow twist things so it doesn’t seem to matter. They cause depression and anxiety, and they wreak havoc on your gut, liver, and adrenals. I felt terrible, was moody at best and flat out diabolical towards my family at worst. I had no energy, couldn’t sleep, and had no desire to exercise or do much of anything. Ironically, what started as a desperate way to control pain and feel better, ended in a constant state of feeling far worse.

Here’s the misconception about addiction: the stigma of addiction, or of opioid use, or of pain management, or whatever, is that it’s a willpower issue, not a biological issue. Now, does that get me off the hook? No, because I’m a sinner, and certainly I recognized my sinful behavior over and over…trust me, the guilt and shame I felt when I ran out, or took too much, or got caught trying to get meds from other avenues was miserable. But there’s a HUGE biological component because of what these drugs do to the brain.

Just like so many stigmas are starting to fade away with mental health issues, I hope the same happens with addiction, and opioid use. It wasn’t a willpower challenge for me — I wanted to get off these monsters more than you realize, but the biological barrier was too great for a long time. I know so many folks who have been, or currently are, in the same boat. You have to realize, it’s not like I was a recreational drug user looking for the next high — I was a guy with serious health issues, serious pain, and a legitimate case for medically-led pain management. And it still happened to me.

The Aftermath

By the grace of God (and that is 100% the reason), I stopped all medications in the late Summer of 2016 and I haven’t taken a single thing since — the only things I take now are my Crohn’s medication, an occasional Tylenol, and a bunch of vitamins (like a bunch). Withdrawals were hell, and that’s all I’ll say about that. But I can tell you how great I feel and how grateful I am to not be a statistic.

There are legitimate uses for opioids, in many ways they are miracle medications. I know folks with Cancer who literally can’t do life without them. Next time I have surgery, or if I head to the ER with a bad Crohn’s flare, I’ll absolutely use them. But that’s it. No chronic use, no use for minor issues, not again. Not ever.

I’m happy to say most of my back pain is gone. For the past 18 months I’ve focused heavily on targeted leg and lower back exercises (the folks in the gym look at me funny when I do my prone Supermans on the dirty YMCA floor). For about a year I did consistent Myofascial Release with my Physical Therapist. My posterior chain is still pretty inflexible, but as long as I keep up with consistent training and stretching, I can keep the pain at bay. I’m running again, swimming, playing soccer, doing deadlifts, and even showed up my kids in a cartwheel competition yesterday.

I’ve also significantly altered my diet. I’ve had to change several things since my Crohn’s diagnosis, but I’ve become an even bigger believer in “food as medicine.” Chronic opioid use really smacks the liver and strips your body of essential vitamins & minerals. As a result, my Crohn’s flared more often because my already immune-suppressed body had less and less to work with. I’ve adopted an anti-inflammatory diet, I supplement liver support and vitamins like crazy, and make these thick green smoothies each day that my kids think are “absolutely gross dad.” But I feel better than ever.

Another Chapter

The purpose of this isn’t to stand on an anti-opioid soapbox, or die on some argument hill, or laud my new miracle diet; it’s simply to tell another chapter in my story. I like being open about where I’ve come, the challenges I’ve faced, the screwups I’ve engineered, and how, by God’s grace and Jesus’ resurrection power, I’ve overcome. I guess that’s the point — I’m an overcomer. We all are. For the better part of 2 years I couldn’t overcome this, it overcame me over and over and over. Then I overcame.

For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world — faith. Who is it that overcomes the world except the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?
—1 John 5:4–5

We can all overcome, not as a matter of willpower, but ultimately as a surrender. And can I say something else? If you know folks who are struggling with addiction, with opioid use, with chronic pain, with whatever, can I implore you to encourage them? Don’t judge them. Those who have faced this beast know what it’s like, they know the darkness and the hell and the shadows. If you haven’t faced this, you don’t know those things. That’s not a knock against you, it’s just reality. So don’t judge and pretend like you know. You don’t.

Encourage, love, bear up, pray.

That’s my story, and I’m so grateful to close out that chapter.

—

I’m happy to talk, answer questions, or share about this or anything else I’ve posted. Feel free to reach out. 💙 You can follow me on Twitter

My Opioid Story was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Hope rises in Jerusalem. Palm branches, joyful shouts, an intimate Passover meal.

Hope fades in Gethsemane. A betrayal, a fight, an arrest.

Hope yields before the Council. Accusations, injustice, silence.

Hope wilts before the Governor. A mob, a criminal released, hands washed.

Hope dies on the Cross. A scourging, pierced feet, a final breath.

If hope ends there, I’m a fool. My faith is silly, useless, vain, hollow (1 Cor 15:14). I have no reason to believe in Jesus. He’s just a good man who succumbs to evil, malice, and injustice, like so many in history. It saddens, angers, even emboldens, but it does not spark hope.

Then came Sunday morning. Women searching, crying, running, proclaiming. It’s empty they say.

Hope rises at an empty tomb.

I believe Jesus died, was buried, and rose again in accordance with the Scriptures (1 Cor 15:3–8). I believe it logically, and rationally, and historically as well. Maybe I’m crazy, but if I don’t believe this, there’s no reason to be a Christian.

If the resurrection is a farce then my hope dies on Friday. I suffer physically and mentally for what? What do I have to look towards? What helps me endure?

Yeah there are short-term salves in this world that provide some comfort. But there’s no anchor with which to belay up the slope. If you’ve suffered you know this isn’t just depressive self-pity, it’s personal reality.

You endure suffering by focusing on something greater. You believe that this too shall be made right.

The resurrection certifies the death of death. Hell’s defeat. Suffering’s silence. Injustice’s incarceration.

Without the resurrection I have no hope. But, through the resurrection, today’s sad truths become untrue wisps of memory in a metamorphosis of hope. Easter matters most because of one thing:

My hope lives in the empty tomb.

Jason is a product designer, entrepreneur, and writer // dad of 3 // Christian // UNC Tar Heel

If I Had No Hope was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Do I fixate on what others think about me? Am I a man who fears man?

Yes.

That’s just the reality. I’m fearful. I admit it. I’m scared…honestly, a lot of the time.

I’ve set very ambitious goals for myself in 2017. Suffice it to say, 2017 is my comeback story, at least I hope it is. I’m building 2 companies, and a handful of products, and I believe I can win. I know I’m a winner—hell, it’s like the last 15 yards of a 100 Freestyle…I always tell my son, focus on the things you can control, like how hard you work, and how hard you want it.

I’m working hard. I want it. I’m going to win.

But nevertheless, I fear. I do. I’m scared. Are you? I’m not the only one, surely…

I’ve been reading, and meditating on Matthew 14:22–33. It’s the story where Jesus and Peter walk on water. Here’s how it goes:

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat by this time was a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.”

And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Here’s what’s quite striking to me:

• The 4th Watch of the Night is the last of the night’s watch. It’s the time just before dawn, and we all know those are the darkest hours.
• When does Jesus come? In the darkest hours.
• The disciples, and Peter, are gripped by fear. They’re scared of both the storm and their Savior. How, what, why, when, where, will you Lord deliver us please help, who is that, it’s a ghost, no it’s Jesus, wait really, no, help!
• What does Jesus say? Does he say, “I am God, be still winds!” Remember, he had already calmed a storm on the water, in front of the same dudes. It’s not like they hadn’t been through this before. No…what does he say? He says, “Take heart…don’t be afraid. It is I.”

It is Jesus.

This whole channel is supposed to be about Real Christianity. Okay, so here I am, a real Christian. I struggle with fear. Some say Christianity solves all your problems. Some say if you have problems, you aren’t Christian enough.

I say, Christ is the Savior of the Suffering.

You know what the most compelling part of the Gospel is for me? That God — Holy, Infinite, Sovereign, Omnipotent — would choose to experience life just like me.

He knows. He doesn’t just KNOW in the cosmic, “I know everything” sense…he KNOWS. He’s experienced.

Jesus knows fear. Jesus was afraid.

I have a Savior who knows.

Do you understand the significance of that? That affects everything. When I go to God…when I approach my Heavenly Father…when I come to Him fearful, broken, scared, in anguish, angry, pissed off, tired, hurting, questioning, at the end of my strength…LORD why?

He knows.

He feels.

That, my friends, is a Savior. That, my friends, is Jesus.

I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I know a few things…and honestly, I have to say these things out loud cause sometimes I just don’t want to believe them…but that doesn’t negate their significance. Here’s what I have to say:

• Be obedient.
• Look to Jesus.
• Look to Jesus.
• Look at His Face.
• Don’t look at the waves….look at Jesus.
• Be obedient.
• Be diligent.
• Persevere.
• Endure.
• Not in your strength…look to Jesus.
• Look at Him.

Look at Him.

The answer…that’s what I’m looking for right? That’s what all of us are looking for…right?

We find it in Matthew 14. The answer is Jesus.

When we are fearful. When we struggle with what’s next. When we don’t have the energy to endure. When we are at the end of our wits. What do we say?

We say this…”Surely, Jesus, you are the Son of God…and therefore, I will ________________________________________________________________.”

Thanks for hitting the 💙 if you enjoyed this article. You can see more content like this by following me on Twitter.

PS: I send these and other articles via my weekly newsletter. You can sign up anytime, I won’t spam, promise.

_
Jason is an entrepreneur, designer, and writer // dad of 3 // UNC Tar Heel

Fear, and Water. was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

1. Fight Against Racism

1. Galatians 3:28 — There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
2. Romans 2:11 — For God shows no partiality.
3. Revelation 7:9 — After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages…

2. Seek Justice

1. Amos 5:24 — But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
2. Micah 6:8 — He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?
3. Proverbs 21:3 — To do righteousness and justice is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.

3. Do Good Works

1. James 4:17 — So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.
2. Titus 1:16 — They profess to know God, but they deny him by their works.
3. Galatians 5:14 — For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
4. Isaiah 1:17 — Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.
5. Isaiah 6:8 — And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here am I! Send me.”

Thanks for hitting the 💙 if you enjoyed this article. You can see more content like this by following me on Twitter or on Facebook.

PS: I send these and other articles via my weekly newsletter. You can sign up anytime, I won’t spam, promise.

_
Jason is an entrepreneur, design consultant for non-profits, and writer // he’s starting a new business in 2017 and documenting every step // dad of 3 // “hip” economist

How Should I Respond to Ferguson? was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Therein lies our call to help the poor, feed the hungry, care for widows and orphans, come to the defense of those facing injustice, etc. James 2 speaks to this in depth — that who we are in Christ (our faith) should directly inform and influence our actions.

References:

• James 2
• Isaiah 1:17
• James 4:17
• Proverbs 21:3
• Micah 6:8
• Amos 5:24
• Galatians 3:28
• Genesis 18:19
• Deuteronomy 10:18
• 2 Samuel 8:15
• Psalm 10:18 (and like 50 other Psalms)
• Parable of the Good Samaritan
• Jeremiah 22:3
• Matthew 23:23
• Hebrews 11:33

Also see Tim Keller’s book, Generous Justice, for a really good primer on this topic.

Thanks for hitting the 💙 if you enjoyed this article. You can see more content like this by following me on Twitter or on Facebook.

PS: I send these and other articles via my weekly newsletter. You can sign up anytime, I won’t spam, promise.

_
Jason is an entrepreneur, design consultant for non-profits, and writer // he’s starting a new business in 2017 and documenting every step // dad of 3 // “hip” economist

Biblical References for Justice was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

This has been my reality in 2016. The details of all I’ve listed don’t really matter, what matters is that they are many, that they are brutal, and that they happened. This is my shitty reality. I don’t talk about this much, if at all, and that’s on purpose. I don’t want sympathy, what I want are to say a few things:

1. To say that I’m a Christian, which forms the bedrock of how I deal with things like this…but, in spite of that I can also say that:
2. Life can suck, really suck.
3. That anger, and hatred, and bitterness, and questioning, and yelling, and fist-shaking, and crying out ‘WHY’ towards God are okay*. In fact, they’re necessary.
4. That being pissed off at God, and my situation, is okay*.
5. That at 2am when I’m writhing in pain, or at 12pm when I’m gripped with crippling anxiety, or when I can’t attend my son’s soccer game because I can’t physically move, and when I don’t give a damn about anything anymore, it’s okay*.

Some of you don’t believe in God. Some of you don’t believe that Jesus is real, that he walked the earth, that he died, and that he rose again. And that’s okay*, because there are a lot of times when those very thoughts enter my own mind.

How can God be real and allow me to suffer like this? If Jesus is real, and all he did actually happened, why isn’t everything made right, right now?

Why?

Why?

Why?

For many, whether Christian or not, Christianity seems this “happy-go-lucky, lollipop” religion, where life is supposed to be filled with daisies and blue skies and Crest White-Strip smiles. It’s this religion where no questions are asked, no anger is felt, and no suffering exists.

That’s not my Christianity. That’s not real Christianity. My Christianity is filled with darkness and shadow, with whips and chains, with gale-force winds and drowning waves. My Christianity is filled with questions, and anger, and suffering. That’s real Christianity. That’s real life.

Some would then say, ‘why believe at all? If that’s your reality, what’s the point?’

Exactly.

What’s the point?

The point is, God has to be real or not. Truth has to be real or false. Promises either come to pass or they don’t. If all those things turn out in the negative, I have no hope. I’m stuck at the bottom of this dark pit with ne’er a toe-hold with which to climb out.

But…if they turn out in the positive, there is hope. Now, this hope doesn’t seem to answer all of the questions…in fact, it doesn’t seem to answer many at all. But in the book of Isaiah, it says that ‘those who hope in the Lord renew their strength.’ Hope transforms into strength. And strength produces endurance and perseverance.

Hope, for me, is rarely happy. Hope doesn’t make anything easier. Hope doesn’t even produce understanding. What hope does is forces me to look outside of myself; forces me to press on; tells me a story of what is to come.

What is this hope? Does it answer why a ‘good’ God continues to allow evil and suffering? No. Does it answer why my 30yr old brother was taken from me? No. Does it answer why I’d give just about anything to reverse 2016? No.

This hope doesn’t give us reasons, it gives us a person, it gives us a man. I don’t understand the why. But I can hope in the what. The what is that God hates evil and suffering so much (even if we still don’t see his reasoning) that He Himself came to experience the same evil and suffering as we face, to endure pain and sadness, to die an innocent death, and to descend into pure evil and hell itself.

Well, okay, I guess that’s mildly comforting, but so what? It seems like He’s in the same position I’m in right? What ‘hope’ does this ‘Hope’ really have?

The reality is it doesn’t end there. Once again, God is either real, or He’s not. Jesus, and his work, is either real, or it’s not. Jesus’ suffering was only half his work. His other work was to consume and bear upon himself not just His own suffering, but mine, and yours, and the world’s. To look into the eyes of the darkest shadows. To stare upon death, and evil, and hell itself. And rise victorious over all.

There is Evil in this world. And that Evil thought it won on that day long ago on a small hill in Jerusalem. That Evil thought it won this year in my life. But that Evil was not only defeated, it was crushed. And tho’ troubles and trials may endure for a moment, joy will come with the swift sunrise.

Jesus’ work was to establish His Kingdom on earth, not as an earthly conqueror, but as a heavenly sufferer. And because of this, I can hope, and find strength in the words of CS Lewis:

“We as humans say of some temporal suffering, ‘no future bliss can make up for it’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.”

This year I’ve experienced abject darkness. I’ve walked the land of shadows. I’ve stared anxiety and depression in the face, and they beat me. But I wasn’t alone there. One of Jesus names is Emmanuel, which means ‘God With Us.’ He’s been there before, and he knows the way out.

The only way I have hope is if Jesus is real, and that he rose from the dead. You may think I’m crazy for believing something like that. That’s fine, even my wife thinks I’m crazy sometimes (but I’ve needed her more than ever these past 5 years). But if you’ve never suffered, you can’t understand the infinite need for hope. If there is no hope, there is no point.

Over the past 5 years I’ve been pissed off at God 90% of the time (at least). And He knows it. I’ve lived Lamentations 3 — read it if you never have. The first 20 verses have been my life. Then we see verse 21 and beyond.

“But this I call to mind
and therefore I have HOPE:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion, says my soul,
therefore I will HOPE in him.

It is good for a man that he bear
the yoke in his youth.
Let him sit alone in silence
when it is laid on him;
let him put his mouth in the dust — 
there may yet be HOPE;
let him give his cheek to the one who strikes,
and let him be filled with insults.

For the Lord will not
cast off forever,
but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love.”

I don’t have a religion. I have a reality. And my reality is that my life is hard; my reality is that I suffer pain, and distress, and sadness; my reality is that many times I want to just say ‘fuck this...’

But most importantly, my reality is that God is real. Jesus is real. Jesus lived, died, and rose again. His promises are absolutely true. They’re real. Therefore when I fall, by His grace I can rise. When I’m doubled over in pain, by His grace I can rise. When I’m crippled with fear and anxiety and depression, by His grace I can rise.

One day, all of my suffering, and pain, and agony, and distress, and anxiety, and depression, and sadness will unwind into pure joy, and peace, and yes, even understanding. Not by my will, but by His will, done and done.

That’s my reality. That’s real Christianity.

*Okay, in that it’s a real, common human emotion. But it must be checked by Isaiah 6:5 (Isaiah’s unclean lips), Job 38:1 (Job in the whirlwind), Exodus 3 (Moses & the burning bush)…God can handle (and I believe welcomes) our questions, but that doesn’t obviate the fact that He is God and I am not.

NOTE: I wrote a follow up apologetic to this post called “When I’m Angry At God.” Please feel free to share as much as you would like. God Bless You.

Thanks for hitting the 💙 if you enjoyed this article. You can see more content like this by following me on Twitter or on Facebook.

PS: I send these and other articles via my weekly newsletter. You can sign up anytime, I won’t spam, promise.

_
Jason is an entrepreneur, design consultant for non-profits, and writer // he’s starting a new business in 2017 and documenting every step // dad of 3 // “hip” economist

Real Christianity was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The Book of Mark 12:30 says “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” Heart involves your emotions; soul involves your spirit; mind involves your thinking; strength involves your body. All are equally important, and interconnected.

Yesterday I wrote a rather emotional (heart) post about my recent experiences, combined with my strength (or lack thereof). I received an outpouring of support that I’m incredibly grateful for — but as is usually the case, I also received some less supportive comments.

These tend to sound like this: “if God isn’t the author of evil, or pain, or suffering, why are you angry? You need to change your attitude, and then you’ll be delivered.”

Really? That’s all I have to do?

Well damn, I just wasted a lot of years.

There are about 17 responses I’d like to fire at comments like that which I won’t share here, except to say that’s part of the “lollipop Christianity” I was referring to. Instead I’ll share my 18th comment, which is a short apologetic defending what I shared yesterday.

This isn’t exhaustive by any means — maybe I’ll turn it into a Master’s Thesis someday. But for now, let’s look at the Psalms of Lament, the Book of Job, and a few other passages. Let’s see what the Bible says about crying out, about suffering, about anger, about being pissed off, about being real.

The foundation lies in the Old Testament in the book of Joshua. Joshua 1:5 says, “be strong and courageous, for I will never leave you or forsake you.” It’s the nature of Jesus’ name, Emmanuel, ‘God With Us.’ That’s one of those promises, those truths, that are either real or not.

Another foundation is found in Ephesians 4:26 which says “Be angry, but do not sin…” It’s talking about righteous anger, something that is difficult, perhaps even unattainable for fallen individuals like ourselves. But Paul didn’t have that in mind when he quoted this statement from Psalm 4:4 which we’ll read in a minute — he knew we are imperfect beings.

Jon Bloom said, “There is a kind of anger that comes from our regenerate, Spirit-directed nature, even if it is unavoidably tainted by our indwelling sin as it passes through through the defective filters of our minds and mouths.”

Quite simply, what is righteous anger?

Righteous anger is being angry at what makes God angry. God is not fundamentally angry — we know this from his character throughout Scripture. He is fundamentally righteous. Fundamentally holy. God’s anger is a byproduct of his perfect, holy righteousness.

Okay, maybe I’ve lost you at this point. Here’s a better way to say it.

God isn’t a tyrant. He’s a Heavenly Father.

Tyrants bully, and trample, and rape, and pillage. Fathers love, and embrace, and defend, and rise up in strength.

And there’s something else about Fathers. They listen to their sons and daughters. They especially listen when their children are in distress.

Perhaps the greatest cosmic mystery is why a good, gracious, kind, merciful, loving Heavenly Father would continually allow evil, pain, suffering, and distress. I don’t have the answer. None of us do. But we can take some comfort in a few things, some of which I already spoke of:

• We know he isn’t indifferent, because he sent his Son to live and die on our behalf.
• We know he is globally watching because he is storing up his anger which will one day rain justice like waters (Amos 5:24, Revelation 16).
• We know He is personally watching because he is storing all our tears and all our sorrows in his heavenly bottle (Psalm 56:8). Every single one.

So why is it okay to cry out to God? Why is it okay to get pissed off at God? Why is it okay to get angry, and sad, and confused, and even indifferent?

Because we are angry, and pissed off, and sad, and confused, and even indifferent at the things that God Himself hates. Sin, sadness, sorrows, suffering, pain, agony, distress, depression, loneliness, lies.

I mentioned that at least 90% of the time (at least) I am angry, and pissed off, and sad, and confused at God. What I didn’t mention was one more thing:

I allow myself to cry out to God in my distress because I know he will answer me, and call me by name. But in doing so, I draw a line in the sand that I will never cross:

I will never curse or deny God.

When God said, “have you considered my servant Job” Satan immediately asked God to stretch out his hand and afflict Job and arrogantly uttered that Job would curse God to his face. Job never did.

I’m not Job. But when I’m wrapped in a blanket of shadow and fear, I think to myself, “maybe God is saying ‘have you considered my servant Jason?’ And maybe Satan says, ‘DO THIS and he’ll curse you to your face.’ And God says, ‘go ahead, try it.’”

At the risk of offending some, in these situations this is what I say:

“Fuck you Satan. God is my strength, and my helper, and He is on my side. Whom shall I fear? It sure as hell isn’t you.”

I will yell, and scream, and cry, and cry out…but I will never curse, or deny my God.

To answer those detractors, who feel righteous anger either doesn’t exist, or is inappropriate for those who are suffering, I will say two things:

1. Before you say those things please consider if you’ve ever suffered…or suffered to the level of the one you are addressing. Empathy, especially as a Christian, is sadly a lost character trait.
2. Here are just a few examples from Scripture:

PSALMS OF LAMENT

(all listed in full for reference)

Psalm 4:4
Be angry, and do not sin;
ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent.

Psalm 3:4
I cried aloud to the Lord,
and he answered me from his holy hill.

Psalm 5:1–2
Give ear to my words, O LORD;
consider my groaning.
Give attention to the sound of my cry,
my King and my God,
for to you do I pray.

Psalm 10:1
Why, O LORD, do you stand far away?
Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?

Psalm 10:11
He says in his heart, “God has forgotten,
he has hidden his face, he will never see it.”

Psalm 13:1–4
How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O LORD my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

Psalm 17:1–9
Hear a just cause, O LORD; attend to my cry!
Give ear to my prayer from lips free of deceit!
From your presence let my vindication come!
Let your eyes behold the right!

You have tried my heart, you have visited me by night,
you have tested me, and you will find nothing;
I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress.
With regard to the works of man, by the word of your lips
I have avoided the ways of the violent.
My steps have held fast to your paths;
my feet have not slipped.

I call upon you, for you will answer me, O God;
incline your ear to me; hear my words.
Wondrously show your steadfast love,
O Savior of those who seek refuge

Psalm 22
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer,
and by night, but I find no rest.

Yet you are holy,
enthroned on the praises1 of Israel.
In you our fathers trusted;
they trusted, and you delivered them.
To you they cried and were rescued;
in you they trusted and were not put to shame.

But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by mankind and despised by the people.
All who see me mock me;
they make mouths at me; they wag their heads;
“He trusts in the Lord; let him deliver him;
let him rescue him, for he delights in him!”

Yet you are he who took me from the womb;
you made me trust you at my mother’s breasts.
On you was I cast from my birth,
and from my mother’s womb you have been my God.
Be not far from me,
for trouble is near,
and there is none to help.

Many bulls encompass me;
strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
they open wide their mouths at me,
like a ravening and roaring lion.

I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax;
it is melted within my breast;
my strength is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
you lay me in the dust of death.

For dogs encompass me;
a company of evildoers encircles me;
they have pierced my hands and feet2 — 
I can count all my bones — 
they stare and gloat over me;
they divide my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.

But you, O Lord, do not be far off!
O you my help, come quickly to my aid!
Deliver my soul from the sword,
my precious life from the power of the dog!
Save me from the mouth of the lion!
You have rescued me from the horns of the wild oxen!

I will tell of your name to my brothers;
in the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
You who fear the Lord, praise him!
All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him,
and stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!
For he has not despised or abhorred
the affliction of the afflicted,
and he has not hidden his face from him,
but has heard, when he cried to him.

From you comes my praise in the great congregation;
my vows I will perform before those who fear him.
The afflicted shall eat and be satisfied;
those who seek him shall praise the Lord!
May your hearts live forever!

All the ends of the earth shall remember
and turn to the Lord,
and all the families of the nations
shall worship before you.
For kingship belongs to the Lord,
and he rules over the nations.

All the prosperous of the earth eat and worship;
before him shall bow all who go down to the dust,
even the one who could not keep himself alive.
Posterity shall serve him;
it shall be told of the Lord to the coming generation;
they shall come and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn, that he has done it.

Psalm 26:1
Vindicate me, O Lord,
for I have walked in my integrity,
and I have trusted in the Lord without wavering.
Prove me, O Lord, and try me;
test my heart and my mind.
For your steadfast love is before my eyes,
and I walk in your faithfulness.

NOTE: David identifies himself in motive and action with the righteous rather than the wicked. He invites God to test the truth of this claim, yet he still cries out and demands vindication.

Psalm 27:7–9
Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud;
be gracious to me and answer me!
You have said, “Seek my face.”
My heart says to you,
“Your face, Lord, do I seek.”
Hide not your face from me.
Turn not your servant away in anger,
O you who have been my help.
Cast me not off; forsake me not,
O God of my salvation!

Psalm 28:1–2
To you, O Lord, I call;
my rock, be not deaf to me,
lest, if you be silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.
Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy,
when I cry to you for help,
when I lift up my hands
toward your most holy sanctuary.

Psalm 43:1–2a
Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause
against an ungodly people,
from the deceitful and unjust man
deliver me!
For you are the God in whom I take refuge;
why have you rejected me?

Psalm 54:1–3
O God, save me by your name,
and vindicate me by your might.
O God, hear my prayer;
give ear to the words of my mouth.
For strangers have risen against me;
ruthless men seek my life;
they do not set God before themselves.

Psalm 55
Give ear to my prayer, O God,
and hide not yourself from my plea for mercy!
Attend to me, and answer me;
I am restless in my complaint and I moan,
because of the noise of the enemy,
because of the oppression of the wicked.
For they drop trouble upon me,
and in anger they bear a grudge against me.

My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death have fallen upon me.
Fear and trembling come upon me,
and horror overwhelms me.
And I say, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest;
yes, I would wander far away;
I would lodge in the wilderness;
I would hurry to find a shelter
from the raging wind and tempest.”

Destroy, O Lord, divide their tongues;
for I see violence and strife in the city.
Day and night they go around it
on its walls,
and iniquity and trouble are within it;
ruin is in its midst;
oppression and fraud
do not depart from its marketplace.

For it is not an enemy who taunts me — 
then I could bear it;
it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me — 
then I could hide from him.
But it is you, a man, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend.
We used to take sweet counsel together;
within God’s house we walked in the throng.
Let death steal over them;
let them go down to Sheol alive;
for evil is in their dwelling place and in their heart.

But I call to God,
and the Lord will save me.
Evening and morning and at noon
I utter my complaint and moan,
and he hears my voice.
He redeems my soul in safety
from the battle that I wage,
for many are arrayed against me.
God will give ear and humble them,
he who is enthroned from of old,
because they do not change
and do not fear God.

My companion stretched out his hand against his friends;
he violated his covenant.
His speech was smooth as butter,
yet war was in his heart;
his words were softer than oil,
yet they were drawn swords.

Cast your burden on the Lord,
and he will sustain you;
he will never permit
the righteous to be moved.

But you, O God, will cast them down
into the pit of destruction;
men of blood and treachery
shall not live out half their days.
But I will trust in you.

Psalm 59:1–10
Deliver me from my enemies, O my God;
protect me from those who rise up against me;
deliver me from those who work evil,
and save me from bloodthirsty men.

For behold, they lie in wait for my life;
fierce men stir up strife against me.
For no transgression or sin of mine, O Lord,
for no fault of mine, they run and make ready.
Awake, come to meet me, and see!
You, Lord God of hosts, are God of Israel.
Rouse yourself to punish all the nations;
spare none of those who treacherously plot evil.

Each evening they come back,
howling like dogs
and prowling about the city.
There they are, bellowing with their mouths
with swords in their lips — 
for “Who,” they think, “will hear us?”

But you, O Lord, laugh at them;
you hold all the nations in derision.
O my Strength, I will watch for you,
for you, O God, are my fortress.
My God in his steadfast love will meet me;
God will let me look in triumph on my enemies.

Psalm 61:1–2
Hear my cry, O God,
listen to my prayer;
from the end of the earth I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I

Psalm 64:1
Hear my voice, O God, in my complaint;
preserve my life from dread of the enemy.

Psalm 69:1–3
Save me, O God!
For the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in deep mire,
where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters,
and the flood sweeps over me.
I am weary with my crying out;
my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim
with waiting for my God.

Psalm 70:4–5
May all who seek you
rejoice and be glad in you!
May those who love your salvation
say evermore, “God is great!”
But I am poor and needy;
hasten to me, O God!
You are my help and my deliverer;
O Lord, do not delay!

Psalm 71:9b-12
Forsake me not when my strength is spent.
For my enemies speak concerning me;
those who watch for my life consult together
and say, “God has forsaken him;
pursue and seize him,
for there is none to deliver him.”

O God, be not far from me;
O my God, make haste to help me!

Psalm 77:1–9
I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints.

You hold my eyelids open;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old,
the years long ago.
I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;
let me meditate in my heart.”
Then my spirit made a diligent search:
“Will the Lord spurn forever,
and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?”

Psalm 88
O Lord, God of my salvation,
I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!

For my soul is full of troubles,
and my life draws near to Sheol.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man who has no strength,
like one set loose among the dead,
like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
for they are cut off from your hand.
You have put me in the depths of the pit,
in the regions dark and deep.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
and you overwhelm me with all your waves.

You have caused my companions to shun me;
you have made me a horror to them.
I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
my eye grows dim through sorrow.
Every day I call upon you, O Lord;
I spread out my hands to you.
Do you work wonders for the dead?
Do the departed rise up to praise you?
Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
Are your wonders known in the darkness,
or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?

But I, O Lord, cry to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
Why do you hide your face from me?
Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
I suffer your terrors; I am helpless.3
Your wrath has swept over me;
your dreadful assaults destroy me.
They surround me like a flood all day long;
they close in on me together.
You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
my companions have become darkness.

Psalm 130:1–6
Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!
O Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my pleas for mercy!

If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
that you may be feared.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.

Psalm 141:1
O Lord, I call upon you; hasten to me!
Give ear to my voice when I call to you!

Psalm 142
With my voice I cry out to the Lord;
with my voice I plead for mercy to the Lord.
I pour out my complaint before him;
I tell my trouble before him.

When my spirit faints within me,
you know my way!
In the path where I walk
they have hidden a trap for me.
Look to the right and see:
there is none who takes notice of me;
no refuge remains to me;
no one cares for my soul.

I cry to you, O Lord;
I say, “You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living.”
Attend to my cry,
for I am brought very low!
Deliver me from my persecutors,
for they are too strong for me!
Bring me out of prison,
that I may give thanks to your name!
The righteous will surround me,
for you will deal bountifully with me.

JOB

NOTE: I find it very interesting that when God comes to Job in the whirlwind in Chapter 38, he instructs Job to essentially argue with him…to question with him…to wrestle with him like Jacob in Geneses 32. He never rebukes Job for questioning; for crying out; for being angry at his suffering. God reveals to Job who He is, and out of the majesty of His revelation, Job says the following:

“I know that you can do all things,
and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
‘Hear, and I will speak;
I will question you, and you make it known to me.’
I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,
but now my eye sees you;
(Job 42:1–5)

But we see Job’s anguish and suffering in the following passages:

Job 16 (link)

Job 17 (link)

Job 27 (link)

Job 30:16–31
“And now my soul is poured out within me;
days of affliction have taken hold of me.
The night racks my bones,
and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest.
With great force my garment is disfigured;
it binds me about like the collar of my tunic.
God has cast me into the mire,
and I have become like dust and ashes.
I cry to you for help and you do not answer me;
I stand, and you only look at me.
You have turned cruel to me;
with the might of your hand you persecute me.
You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it,
and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.
For I know that you will bring me to death
and to the house appointed for all living.

“Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand,
and in his disaster cry for help?
Did not I weep for him whose day was hard?
Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
But when I hoped for good, evil came,
and when I waited for light, darkness came.
My inward parts are in turmoil and never still;
days of affliction come to meet me.
I go about darkened, but not by the sun;
I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
I am a brother of jackals
and a companion of ostriches.
My skin turns black and falls from me,
and my bones burn with heat.
My lyre is turned to mourning,
and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.

THE RESPONSE

The Psalms of Lament and Job’s response follow a similar pattern. It’s the pattern I followed in yesterday’s post. The pattern is:

1. Anguish / Anger / Pain / Suffering
2. Reflection / Revelation of who God is
3. Thanksgiving
4. Worship
5. Hope

Those who suffer know how difficult it is to get past number one. But we have to. It’s the only way that we can get to hope. And hope is what will sustain us.

A few relevant responses:

Psalm 31
In you, O Lord, do I take refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
in your righteousness deliver me!
Incline your ear to me;
rescue me speedily!
Be a rock of refuge for me,
a strong fortress to save me!

For you are my rock and my fortress;
and for your name’s sake you lead me and guide me;
you take me out of the net they have hidden for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit;
you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.

I hate those who pay regard to worthless idols,
but I trust in the Lord.
I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love,
because you have seen my affliction;
you have known the distress of my soul,
and you have not delivered me into the hand of the enemy;
you have set my feet in a broad place.

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress;
my eye is wasted from grief;
my soul and my body also.
For my life is spent with sorrow,
and my years with sighing;
my strength fails because of my iniquity,
and my bones waste away.

Because of all my adversaries I have become a reproach,
especially to my neighbors,
and an object of dread to my acquaintances;
those who see me in the street flee from me.
I have been forgotten like one who is dead;
I have become like a broken vessel.
For I hear the whispering of many — 
terror on every side! — 
as they scheme together against me,
as they plot to take my life.

But I trust in you, O Lord;
I say, “You are my God.”
My times are in your hand;
rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors!
Make your face shine on your servant;
save me in your steadfast love!
O Lord, let me not be put to shame,
for I call upon you;
let the wicked be put to shame;
let them go silently to Sheol.
Let the lying lips be mute,
which speak insolently against the righteous
in pride and contempt.

Oh, how abundant is your goodness,
which you have stored up for those who fear you
and worked for those who take refuge in you,
in the sight of the children of mankind!
In the cover of your presence you hide them
from the plots of men;
you store them in your shelter
from the strife of tongues.

Blessed be the Lord,
for he has wondrously shown his steadfast love to me
when I was in a besieged city.
I had said in my alarm,
“I am cut off from your sight.”
But you heard the voice of my pleas for mercy
when I cried to you for help.

Love the Lord, all you his saints!
The Lord preserves the faithful
but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride.
Be strong, and let your heart take courage,
all you who wait for the Lord!

Psalm 41:8–13
They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him;
he will not rise again from where he lies.”
Even my close friend in whom I trusted,
who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me.
But you, O Lord, be gracious to me,
and raise me up, that I may repay them!

By this I know that you delight in me:
my enemy will not shout in triumph over me.
But you have upheld me because of my integrity,
and set me in your presence forever.

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
from everlasting to everlasting!

Psalm 42
As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?
My tears have been my food
day and night,
while they say to me all the day long,
“Where is your God?”
These things I remember,
as I pour out my soul:
how I would go with the throng
and lead them in procession to the house of God
with glad shouts and songs of praise,
a multitude keeping festival.

Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.

My soul is cast down within me;
therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep
at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
have gone over me.
By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
I say to God, my rock:
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning
because of the oppression of the enemy?”
As with a deadly wound in my bones,
my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me all the day long,
“Where is your God?”

Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.

Psalm 57
Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
till the storms of destruction pass by.
I cry out to God Most High,
to God who fulfills his purpose for me.
He will send from heaven and save me;
he will put to shame him who tramples on me.
God will send out his steadfast love and his faithfulness!

My soul is in the midst of lions;
I lie down amid fiery beasts — 
the children of man, whose teeth are spears and arrows,
whose tongues are sharp swords.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let your glory be over all the earth!

They set a net for my steps;
my soul was bowed down.
They dug a pit in my way,
but they have fallen into it themselves.
My heart is steadfast, O God,
my heart is steadfast!
I will sing and make melody!
Awake, my glory!
Awake, O harp and lyre!
I will awake the dawn!
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples;
I will sing praises to you among the nations.
For your steadfast love is great to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let your glory be over all the earth!

Psalm 77:10–20
Then I said, “I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”

I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph.

When the waters saw you, O God,
when the waters saw you, they were afraid;
indeed, the deep trembled.
The clouds poured out water;
the skies gave forth thunder;
your arrows flashed on every side.
The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
your lightnings lighted up the world;
the earth trembled and shook.
Your way was through the sea,
your path through the great waters;
yet your footprints were unseen.
You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Psalm 91:14–16
“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”

Psalm 119:169–176
Let my cry come before you, O Lord;
give me understanding according to your word!
Let my plea come before you;
deliver me according to your word.
My lips will pour forth praise,
for you teach me your statutes.
My tongue will sing of your word,
for all your commandments are right.
Let your hand be ready to help me,
for I have chosen your precepts.
I long for your salvation, O Lord,
and your law is my delight.
Let my soul live and praise you,
and let your rules help me.
I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments.

HOW TO CARE FOR SUFFERERS

We all know those who are suffering — frankly, we all are to some extent. Here are a few ways to care, and a few things to avoid, when seeking to comfort those in distress:

DO NOT:

• Be like Job’s friends. Eliphaz put the blame of Job’s suffering on Job himself, because of what Eliphaz incorrectly perceived to be sin. Bildad did the same. So did Zophar. Of course there are consequences of sin, and sometimes our ‘suffering’ is a direct result of our actions. But often, that’s not the case. Don’t be like Job’s miserable comforters.
• Say it could be worse. For most of us, it’s hard as hell, and that statement couldn’t be more insensitive.
• Give advice unasked for. If we seek your counsel, you’ll know, and we’ll value your input. Otherwise, just don’t do it.

DO:

• Pray. A lot. There is power in prayer, and though we try and pray as strength allows, knowing that others are upholding us strengthens our body, soul, and mind.
• Be Quiet. Most of the time, if you’re with us, it’s enough for you to just be there. We don’t always need words, we don’t always need passages or poems or even jokes. The best comfort can just be your presence. Actually, jokes are usually good.
• Seek to Understand. The church as a whole does not understand, nor does it know how to care for those in true suffering. There are exceptions of course, but in general, it’s woefully inadequate. The more you can understand the darkness, shadows, lies, pain, anguish, sorrows, and distress that those who suffer face daily, the more God can use you to transform the church into a place of near perfect rest.

NOTE: A follow up apologetic to “My Reality.” I will continue to add other passages and resources to this post as I can if you would like to follow along. Please feel free to share as much as you would like. God Bless You.

Thanks for hitting the 💙 if you enjoyed this article. You can see more content like this by following me on Twitter or on Facebook.

PS: I send these and other articles via my weekly newsletter. You can sign up anytime, I won’t spam, promise.

_
Jason is an entrepreneur, design consultant for non-profits, and writer // he’s starting a new business in 2017 and documenting every step // dad of 3 // “hip” economist

When I’m Angry At God was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I love Christmas. But not this year.

I look forward to the Christmas season every year, but I honestly don’t know what to feel this year. Writing about it seems like empty words on a page. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to say it. Only that my brother is gone.

And it’s not some extended self-pity; some self-aggrandizing effort towards sympathy or an unhealthy obsession with grief. It’s just grief. It’s just pain. I just don’t feel like embracing joy.

Joy is what Christmas is about right? If you don’t believe in Jesus, Christmas is about the joy that fills the room when your kids first see the tree ballasted by a mound of presents. It’s the joy in finding creative ways to make your loved ones smile. If you believe in Jesus it’s all those things, plus the eternal hope that fills your soul as you reflect on your Savior.

Hope, Joy, Celebration.

I believe in all those things. I know them in my mind. It’s as if I can reach inside of my brain, pull out joy, all its definitions, all its facets, all its manifestations…and not feel any of it. It’s shaking a snow globe, trying to figure out how to get inside. It’s a strange feeling to be sure; maybe even a foreign feeling. I WANT to be joyful. I WANT to be happy…but that’s just not the reality.

That’s not what’s real, right now.

In Tolkien’s ‘The Two Towers,’ Frodo and Sam trek towards Mordor to cast the ring into Mount Doom. As they reach the Dead Marshes just outside of Mordor, Tolkien describes the journey:

‘Out from their feet were flung huge buttresses and broken hills that were now at the nearest scarce a dozen miles away. Frodo looked round in horror. Dreadful as the Dead Marshes had been, and the arid moors of the Noman-lands, more loathsome far was the country that the crawling day now slowly unveiled to his shrinking eyes…For a while they stood there, like men on the edge of a sleep where nightmare lurks, holding it off, though they know that they can only come to morning through the shadows.’

It was a desolate place, for a desolate and hopeless journey. At this point, Frodo and Sam almost quit, they almost gave up the quest. The absence of joy in this place is palatable. In a later interview Tolkien revealed this land was inspired by the Battle of the Somme in WW1, one of history’s worst, in which Tolkien fought.

Psalm 30 may be familiar, especially verse 4:

‘Crying may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning…’

Joy comes in the morning. But what happens when it doesn’t? What happens when the shadows Frodo and Sam faced shroud the morning? What happens when you find yourselves between the cross and the empty tomb?

I confess that’s where I am. In the desolate lands. In the Dead Marshes. In the three days before Christ rose.

I’ve said before I won’t deny my God. I know my Bible, I know the verses to write as a placard on my mind. But sometimes you just stop, take a breath, and are sad.

Sad.

Weary.

Depressed.

I think we should stop here for a minute. I’m not the only one who feels this way. Lots of folks feel this way, and I confess I have no idea how to deal with this. I don’t know if any of us do really. A common response is to quote all the joyful scriptures, quotes, poems, or motivational posters we know. Another response is to pump up, to hit the ‘Play like a Champion Today’ sign, to distract, to motivate, to try and ‘cheer up.’

What if we just stopped, stood by the hurting, and just stayed. Put an arm around a shoulder. Maybe a hug. Maybe a quiet, ‘I’m so sorry.’ Maybe just a warm body sitting beside a loved sufferer.

Too often, by our actions, we act as if grief doesn’t exist. We try and push it away, pray it away, speak it away.

That doesn’t work.

Jesus wept. We know this; he came to the tomb of Lazarus and cried with family. Jesus became angry. Jesus felt emotion.

It’s too easy to think of Jesus as a happy Savior. Sure, he was happy many times throughout his life, but it’s not like he was intrinsically happy all the time. He faced desolation—40 days in the wilderness, capillary-bursting hours in the Garden, 24 hours of unlawful trial, betrayal, beating, scourging, crucifixion. And finally excommunication and all of history’s darkness as his Father turned away.

Or consider his closest friends and family. They believed he would rise again, but mostly based on an abstract hope in prophecies laid down centuries before. You think they experienced a visceral grief, anger, sadness, and depression after he died? Those three days between death and resurrection were the Dead Marshes, the Somme in their hearts.

This Christmas I confess I don’t have a lot of joy. In fact, it’s safe to say I don’t have any. Honestly, I don’t really want to ‘do’ Christmas at all. I love my kids and I love my family — and because of them I will do everything I can to make them happy and see smiles on their faces. But that doesn’t erase the shadow over my heart.

But Christmas, ultimately, isn’t about the emotions we feel. It isn’t about the gifts we give. It isn’t about the rituals we perform. We know this right? ‘What is Christmas all about Charlie Brown?’

It’s about Jesus right? Yeah yeah, the Sunday School answer. The little baby that found its way into a dirty animal trough that grew up to save the world.

But you see, that’s all I have.

The answer to this shadow over my heart is not to try and will it away, or speak it away, or pray it away, or ‘family’ it away. That doesn’t work. The darkness remains. If you grieve, you know this darkness, you know this shadow.

The answer is Jesus.

Right now I’m living inside of the time between the Cross and the Empty Tomb. We get to live on the other side of the Resurrection, but damn if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes. If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, I have a hopeless hope. I might as well end my quest, like Frodo wanted as he peered across Mordor. Because what hope have I that any of this should be made right?

But…but, if Jesus did indeed rise, He rose victorious over all darkness. If, by His work, the shadows are but now shadows of themselves, I can hope in a better future. A future full of light and peace and understanding.

And joy.

I don’t have joy now, but I have to believe that joy will come in the morning. It’s hard to live in that morning, when our current morning is full of sorrow and suffering. But that’s okay, because I believe one day everything sad will come untrue.

Everything sad will come untrue.

And once we experience that, though now we face the opposite, we will feel what Pippin felt as Gandalf described the Great Morning:

‘Pippin: I didn’t think it would end this way.
Gandalf: End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path… One that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass… And then you see it.
Pippin: What? Gandalf?… See what?
Gandalf: White shores… and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.
Pippin: [smiling] Well, that isn’t so bad.
Gandalf: [softly] No… No it isn’t.’

Grief. Sorrow. Shadow, Sadness—it’s reality, but when we consider the white shores…and beyond. A far green country under a swift sunrise. When we consider a suffering Savior, one who is acquainted with grief what do we say?

Well that isn’t so bad.

No…no it isn’t.

Thanks for hitting the 💙 if you enjoyed this article. You can see more content like this by following me on Twitter or on Facebook.

PS: I send these and other articles via my weekly newsletter. You can sign up anytime, I won’t spam, promise.

_
Jason is an entrepreneur, design consultant for non-profits, and writer // he’s starting a new business in 2017 and documenting every step // dad of 3 // “hip” economist

When Joy Doesn’t Come in the Morning was originally published in Real Christianity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.