Silas
Beloved
Your words carry a weight of pain that is hard to put into sentences, yet you have spoken it plainly. The repeated losses, the sense of being a target, the ache in your heart that will not lift, none of this is trivial. When the mind races through every possible reason and still finds no answer, the darkness can feel absolute. The psalmist knew that frantic speed of thought, the multitude of thoughts within that bring turmoil rather than peace. Jesus knows the thoughts that run through your mind right now. He is not distant, trying to decipher you from across a vast gulf. He perceives the very origin of those thoughts, the empty loops of despair, and the genuine cry underneath them all.
When you ask why you cannot keep your money or why you keep being the target, you are brushing against a mystery that no one fully grasps. We see the immediate losses, the scams, the valuables gone, and we naturally conclude that if we were God we would arrange things differently. His thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not our ways. That is not a dismissal; it is a confession that He sees the end from the beginning while we only see the present wreckage. Scripture does not promise a life free from being defrauded or from the schemes of those who take advantage. Even the apostle Paul carried a persistent affliction he called a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to buffet him. He asked for it to be removed three times, and the answer was not instantaneous removal but sustaining grace. That does not make the experience pleasant or easy to accept, but it does mean that being buffeted does not prove you are abandoned.
Healing is real, and it often takes forms we do not expect. Much of the body of Christ extends the work of the cross beyond spiritual forgiveness to include physical restoration, because Jesus Himself bore our sicknesses. Yet healing does not always arrive in a single, dramatic moment. Scripture records one case where Jesus healed a blind man gradually, in stages. Other times He spoke a word from a distance; other times He touched; other times He sent the person on their way and the healing was discovered later. The point is that He refused to be confined to a single pattern. Your need for healing is not just physical, you spoke of feeling suicidal, of a heart that hurts so badly, of a sense of being lost in darkness. That kind of wound in the emotions and the mind is no less in need of divine healing. God often works through established processes, including the gradual restoration of a shattered interior life. If healing is happening in your mind and in your scars, it is still His healing, even if no one around you can point to an instant fix.
Protection is also a real biblical promise, but it is connected to abiding under His covering. The Scriptures warn that it is possible to remove oneself from that place of protection, not through a single misstep that triggers a trap, but through a slow forsaking of His ways. The question worth bringing before God is not only "Why am I a target?" but also "Lord, search me and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts. Show me if there is any way in me that has stepped outside Your shelter." That is a prayer born of humility, not accusation. The heart can be deceitful, and we do not always see our own condition clearly. The Lord knows the thoughts of man, and He knows that many of them, even the ones that feel profound, are empty. Yet He also knows the genuine groan underneath. Blessed is the man whom the Lord chastens and teaches through the pain, not because the pain itself is good, but because it pulls the roots of our trust out of unstable ground and sets them somewhere more secure.
One of the clearest examples of being made whole in Scripture is tied to giving thanks. Ten lepers were cleansed, but only one returned to give thanks, and to him Jesus said, "Your faith has made you whole." He received more than a physical healing; he received a wholeness that touched his entire being. When you have been scammed and battered, gratitude feels like the farthest thing from your reach, yet it is a discipline that reorients the soul away from the overwhelming evidence of loss and toward the goodness that remains. The multitude of racing thoughts finds its quietus not in solving every riddle, but in the comforts of God that delight the soul even in the middle of the storm.
You do not need to understand why it all happened before you bring it to Him. You can say exactly what you have said here, without polishing it. Ask Him to try your heart and to lead you back under the covering of His protection. Ask for healing, whether immediate or gradual, of the wounds that make death seem like a refuge. He knows those thoughts. He knows what is in man. And He is not waiting for you to figure it out before He shows mercy. His thoughts are higher, and His mercy is deeper than your present darkness.
When you ask why you cannot keep your money or why you keep being the target, you are brushing against a mystery that no one fully grasps. We see the immediate losses, the scams, the valuables gone, and we naturally conclude that if we were God we would arrange things differently. His thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not our ways. That is not a dismissal; it is a confession that He sees the end from the beginning while we only see the present wreckage. Scripture does not promise a life free from being defrauded or from the schemes of those who take advantage. Even the apostle Paul carried a persistent affliction he called a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to buffet him. He asked for it to be removed three times, and the answer was not instantaneous removal but sustaining grace. That does not make the experience pleasant or easy to accept, but it does mean that being buffeted does not prove you are abandoned.
Healing is real, and it often takes forms we do not expect. Much of the body of Christ extends the work of the cross beyond spiritual forgiveness to include physical restoration, because Jesus Himself bore our sicknesses. Yet healing does not always arrive in a single, dramatic moment. Scripture records one case where Jesus healed a blind man gradually, in stages. Other times He spoke a word from a distance; other times He touched; other times He sent the person on their way and the healing was discovered later. The point is that He refused to be confined to a single pattern. Your need for healing is not just physical, you spoke of feeling suicidal, of a heart that hurts so badly, of a sense of being lost in darkness. That kind of wound in the emotions and the mind is no less in need of divine healing. God often works through established processes, including the gradual restoration of a shattered interior life. If healing is happening in your mind and in your scars, it is still His healing, even if no one around you can point to an instant fix.
Protection is also a real biblical promise, but it is connected to abiding under His covering. The Scriptures warn that it is possible to remove oneself from that place of protection, not through a single misstep that triggers a trap, but through a slow forsaking of His ways. The question worth bringing before God is not only "Why am I a target?" but also "Lord, search me and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts. Show me if there is any way in me that has stepped outside Your shelter." That is a prayer born of humility, not accusation. The heart can be deceitful, and we do not always see our own condition clearly. The Lord knows the thoughts of man, and He knows that many of them, even the ones that feel profound, are empty. Yet He also knows the genuine groan underneath. Blessed is the man whom the Lord chastens and teaches through the pain, not because the pain itself is good, but because it pulls the roots of our trust out of unstable ground and sets them somewhere more secure.
One of the clearest examples of being made whole in Scripture is tied to giving thanks. Ten lepers were cleansed, but only one returned to give thanks, and to him Jesus said, "Your faith has made you whole." He received more than a physical healing; he received a wholeness that touched his entire being. When you have been scammed and battered, gratitude feels like the farthest thing from your reach, yet it is a discipline that reorients the soul away from the overwhelming evidence of loss and toward the goodness that remains. The multitude of racing thoughts finds its quietus not in solving every riddle, but in the comforts of God that delight the soul even in the middle of the storm.
You do not need to understand why it all happened before you bring it to Him. You can say exactly what you have said here, without polishing it. Ask Him to try your heart and to lead you back under the covering of His protection. Ask for healing, whether immediate or gradual, of the wounds that make death seem like a refuge. He knows those thoughts. He knows what is in man. And He is not waiting for you to figure it out before He shows mercy. His thoughts are higher, and His mercy is deeper than your present darkness.
