Chrysostom
Beloved of All
I hear the cry of your heart, and I do not dismiss it. You say that God does not love you because everything is sabotaged, because you are struck down again and again, and because your prayers seem to hang in the air unanswered. But tell me: does a father love only the child who never struggles? Is the refiner’s fire hatred for the gold? The righteous have often been the poorest, the most afflicted, yet their hope grew brighter, like gold tried in the furnace. Do not measure God’s love by the balance of your bank account or the smoothness of your road. If He withheld every hardship from you, you might never learn how tightly to cling to Him.
You protest that prayer does not work, that He does not listen. But prayer is not a coin you drop into a machine, forcing His hand. It is the weapon of the soul, given so that you may stand firm in the storm, not so that no storm ever comes. Every day is a tempest, every marketplace a battle. If you will rise early and make God your ally through prayer, you will go forth with a security that no Lyft charge or broken car can take away. The answer may not be a sudden flood of money it may be strength to endure, or unexpected help, or simply the light of His presence in the darkness. Do you think the Apostle Paul, with his thorn in the flesh and his constant dangers, was not praying? He prayed, and the brethren prayed for him, and still he was often in want. Yet he could say, “I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.” That is the fruit of prayer, not a life free of trouble.
You say you will not make it to your birthday, that you are cursed. That is the devil’s hiss in your ear. The wicked one never despairs of your destruction. Will you, made in God’s image, despair of your own salvation? To give up on life is to hand him the victory. Even if your sins were as scarlet, God is not as man He does not fling your past in your face when you turn to Him. Say with all your remaining strength: “Turn Thou unto me, and I shall return.” This is the door through which even publicans and harlots have entered the Kingdom before the self-righteous.
You are not alone in this. Here, where you have brought your request, the Church prays for you. The prayer of the brethren can do great things. When Peter was in chains, the whole Church prayed earnestly, and an angel led him out. But you also must stay awake yourself. Do not dishonor your own struggle by saying it is pointless, nor refuse the prayers of others as if you had no need. Even Paul needed the prayers of the saints. Humble yourself under God’s hand, and do what lies within right conduct: continue to work, seek honest help, and do not use sickness as a cloak to avoid expense in a way that harms your soul. Trust the outcome to Him.
Your circumstances are like a heavy tomb, and your hopes may seem to stink after four days of death. But Christ is able to command the stone to be removed. Do not roll a stone of despair over your own heart. Let us come near to Him on your behalf, as the sisters did for Lazarus. We will pray, but you must not lay yourself down in that grave as one already dead. Rise up inwardly. Even this bitter birthday can become the day you resolve to live, not by sight, but by faith. Grace is not for the deserving it is for those who have no works to offer and can only cry out. That is where you are. That is the very place where God meets us.
You protest that prayer does not work, that He does not listen. But prayer is not a coin you drop into a machine, forcing His hand. It is the weapon of the soul, given so that you may stand firm in the storm, not so that no storm ever comes. Every day is a tempest, every marketplace a battle. If you will rise early and make God your ally through prayer, you will go forth with a security that no Lyft charge or broken car can take away. The answer may not be a sudden flood of money it may be strength to endure, or unexpected help, or simply the light of His presence in the darkness. Do you think the Apostle Paul, with his thorn in the flesh and his constant dangers, was not praying? He prayed, and the brethren prayed for him, and still he was often in want. Yet he could say, “I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.” That is the fruit of prayer, not a life free of trouble.
You say you will not make it to your birthday, that you are cursed. That is the devil’s hiss in your ear. The wicked one never despairs of your destruction. Will you, made in God’s image, despair of your own salvation? To give up on life is to hand him the victory. Even if your sins were as scarlet, God is not as man He does not fling your past in your face when you turn to Him. Say with all your remaining strength: “Turn Thou unto me, and I shall return.” This is the door through which even publicans and harlots have entered the Kingdom before the self-righteous.
You are not alone in this. Here, where you have brought your request, the Church prays for you. The prayer of the brethren can do great things. When Peter was in chains, the whole Church prayed earnestly, and an angel led him out. But you also must stay awake yourself. Do not dishonor your own struggle by saying it is pointless, nor refuse the prayers of others as if you had no need. Even Paul needed the prayers of the saints. Humble yourself under God’s hand, and do what lies within right conduct: continue to work, seek honest help, and do not use sickness as a cloak to avoid expense in a way that harms your soul. Trust the outcome to Him.
Your circumstances are like a heavy tomb, and your hopes may seem to stink after four days of death. But Christ is able to command the stone to be removed. Do not roll a stone of despair over your own heart. Let us come near to Him on your behalf, as the sisters did for Lazarus. We will pray, but you must not lay yourself down in that grave as one already dead. Rise up inwardly. Even this bitter birthday can become the day you resolve to live, not by sight, but by faith. Grace is not for the deserving it is for those who have no works to offer and can only cry out. That is where you are. That is the very place where God meets us.
