What a furnace of affliction you now endure, and how the flames of this trial lick at the very walls of your heart! The threat of losing a roof, the weight of debt, the weariness of long labor that yields no fruit, the faces of children and aged loved ones looking to you for shelter, all these cry out as with one voice, and that voice pierces heaven. Do you think God does not hear? He who clothes the grass of the field and feeds the ravens, He who sees the sparrow fall, does He not see you? He sees, beloved, and He permits this anguish not to break you, but to make you. The devil whispers that you are forsaken, that prayer is vain, that God has forgotten. But cast that lie back into his teeth. For whom the Lord loves He disciplines, and He scourges every son whom He receives. You cry out for a financial breakthrough, for ### pieces of silver to escape the landlord’s hand. It is not a sum for luxury or pride, but for the shelter of your own. This is no sinful plea. Yet I say to you: do not fasten the whole hope of your heart upon that sum, as if without it God had no deliverance. The human mind in straits seizes upon one narrow door, "Send me this exact help in this exact way or we perish!" But the storehouses of our God are not so small. He can soften the heart of your landlord that he relents, even as He turned the heart of Esau toward Jacob. He can send you a man of peace, a stranger with a merciful heart, to give you respite. He can provide bread in the wilderness by ways you have not dreamed. Therefore, while you rightly make your request known with tears, also say, "Yet not my will, but Thine be done; only, O Lord, let me not be put to shame."
Do you think I am untouched by your labor, your twelve hours of daily toil that barely keeps you afloat? I sigh with you. For the curse of Adam presses hard upon the poor, and the world is a hard master. But see, in this very misery, God is teaching you a wisdom that cannot be learned in ease: that here we have no lasting city. If you had the ### tomorrow, and a new home, and all debts paid, would your soul then be safe? Yet still a trial remains, the trial of the rich, which is a harder snare. Now you possess little, and so have fewer chains binding you to the dust. Now you have a school for prayer that the wealthy rarely enter. Do not despise this school, though it be bitter. Let the sweat of your brow be an offering, and let your weariness become a psalm of dependence. I do not command you to be insensible, we are not Stoics, but I beg you to mingle your lament with hope.
But what of the practical need? Shall the children sleep in the street? God forbid. Has the church no bowels of compassion? Here must be put to the test whether our worship is pure, for charity is the sister of the Eucharist. You have come with your prayer to the household of God; now let that household not turn a deaf ear. If there are those among us who have this world’s goods and see a brother or sister in need and shut up their hearts, how does the love of God abide in them? You have asked for an angel; perhaps God will stir up a fellow heir of the kingdom, one who has been blessed with means, to be that angel. Do not cease to make your need known to the brethren, for disaster shared is halved, and the prayers of the many prevail. Yet, if help tarries, do not charge God with neglect. His delay is not denial. He waited four days to raise Lazarus, that the miracle might be more glorious. Perhaps He waits that you may see clearly that it is His hand alone that saves, and that no human arm can claim the glory.
One thing more I press upon your spirit: while you cry out for money, do not neglect the wealth that moth and rust cannot corrupt. The wise man in Proverbs asks for neither poverty nor riches, lest he be full and deny God, or in want and steal. But you are in want; so guard your heart against bitterness, against envy of the wealthy, against the lie that God is unfair. Would you rather have the rich man’s purple and his flame, or Lazarus’s sores and the bosom of Abraham? The great breakthrough you truly need is the breaking of the crust of fear and doubt around your soul, so that the light of the Resurrection may flood in. Christ did not spare His own life for you; will He not freely give you all things? Let that anchor hold. Lay hold of the promise that those who seek the Kingdom first will have all earthly need added to them.
Stand fast, then, when the powers of darkness roar against you. When the legal threat comes, remember Pilate, and see that no judge has authority except what is given from above. That persecution may be a platform for deliverance. Cry out in the night, “O Lord, help us! We are covered by the blood of Jesus, and that blood speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.” That blood does not plead for houses and gold, but for souls and resurrection. Yet because it bought your whole self, body, soul, home, and hope, commit all these into the pierced hands that rule the universe. Do not let the fear of homelessness choke the seed of faith. For you are not homeless; you are pilgrims on the way to the Father’s house, where there are many mansions. In the meantime, let the trial do its perfect work, making you perfect and complete, lacking nothing. And may the God of all comfort Himself appear as your provider, whether by a sudden windfall, a change of heart in your creditor, or the rising of the church to love you as its own flesh. I do not cease to groan with you in this struggle, and I beseech the Lord of lovingkindness to grant you swift mercy, and a testimony of His faithfulness that will shine as a beacon in this dark age.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
