Silas
Beloved Servant
When the pressure feels so heavy you can hardly breathe, it is easy to believe the lie that you are alone and that the walls are closing in forever. Scripture does not shy away from this kind of anguish. Job reached the very bottom, crying out in confusion and wishing he had never been born. His friends, instead of offering pity, gave long speeches that only added to his guilt and pain. Yet in that dark place, where even his hope seemed to be giving up the ghost, God was not absent. The enemy could only go as far as God allowed, and even those bitter limits were held in the hand of the One who sees the end from the beginning. You are not being singled out for destruction, even though the financial strain makes it feel that way.
When every earthly prop is kicked out, we finally look up rather than around. Looking around at the bills and the empty accounts only feeds despair, but looking up acknowledges that the cattle on a thousand hills belong to the Lord. He is not in need, and He is certainly not headed for bankruptcy. The story of God’s people is filled with moments where, in their deep poverty and struggle, they discovered a supernatural grace to be generous anyway. That kind of giving does not come from pressure or a pledge card; it flows from a willing heart that trusts the Provider more than the provision. Right now, the thought of giving anything might sound terrifying, but it is often the very act of putting God first in our finances, according to our ability and even beyond it, that breaks the grip of fear. It turns our eyes from the sinking sand to the solid rock.
Do not listen to the inner voice or the outside counselors who speak deceitfully for God, telling you that your trouble proves He has abandoned you. That was the error of Job’s friends. A rush cannot grow without mire, and when the water vanishes, it withers quickly. You may feel withered and cut down, but the desolation of a dry season does not mean the root is dead. Your life is but a wind passing by, and eternity is long. In hell, the rich man lifted up his eyes in torment, but that is not your portion if you belong to Jesus Christ. The terrors of God arrayed against Job were not a sign of His hatred but a mysterious work in a life He held firmly. When we get to the bottom, we finally stop trusting in our own ability to scramble out, and we cry out for the God who alone spreads out the heavens and treads upon the waves of the sea.
Take a step back from the panic. Use what time you have in this brief life to store up treasure in heaven, living with an eternal consciousness. Ask the Lord for the grace to see if there is something tangible you can do, however small, to give freely to another in need, trusting the administration of that service to supply not only their wants but to produce many thanksgivings to God. Let that be the first breath you take: not a desperate grasp for cash, but a simple act of love that declares God is still on the throne. The hope of the resurrection stands unshakeable when every dollar fades. You will not awake from this sleep of despair until the heavens are no more and Christ calls you forth. Until then, do not give up. Look up.
When every earthly prop is kicked out, we finally look up rather than around. Looking around at the bills and the empty accounts only feeds despair, but looking up acknowledges that the cattle on a thousand hills belong to the Lord. He is not in need, and He is certainly not headed for bankruptcy. The story of God’s people is filled with moments where, in their deep poverty and struggle, they discovered a supernatural grace to be generous anyway. That kind of giving does not come from pressure or a pledge card; it flows from a willing heart that trusts the Provider more than the provision. Right now, the thought of giving anything might sound terrifying, but it is often the very act of putting God first in our finances, according to our ability and even beyond it, that breaks the grip of fear. It turns our eyes from the sinking sand to the solid rock.
Do not listen to the inner voice or the outside counselors who speak deceitfully for God, telling you that your trouble proves He has abandoned you. That was the error of Job’s friends. A rush cannot grow without mire, and when the water vanishes, it withers quickly. You may feel withered and cut down, but the desolation of a dry season does not mean the root is dead. Your life is but a wind passing by, and eternity is long. In hell, the rich man lifted up his eyes in torment, but that is not your portion if you belong to Jesus Christ. The terrors of God arrayed against Job were not a sign of His hatred but a mysterious work in a life He held firmly. When we get to the bottom, we finally stop trusting in our own ability to scramble out, and we cry out for the God who alone spreads out the heavens and treads upon the waves of the sea.
Take a step back from the panic. Use what time you have in this brief life to store up treasure in heaven, living with an eternal consciousness. Ask the Lord for the grace to see if there is something tangible you can do, however small, to give freely to another in need, trusting the administration of that service to supply not only their wants but to produce many thanksgivings to God. Let that be the first breath you take: not a desperate grasp for cash, but a simple act of love that declares God is still on the throne. The hope of the resurrection stands unshakeable when every dollar fades. You will not awake from this sleep of despair until the heavens are no more and Christ calls you forth. Until then, do not give up. Look up.
