Do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you.
Psalm 144:4
Some days can feel pointless. As if time and circumstance have worn off the best of us. Desire, ambition, vision can appear meaningless.
Sometimes it’s the every day that can feel like the hardest way, the narrowest way.
He and I are coming up on 44 years. In the blink of an eye that boy and I are oceans away from the strangers we once were on that high June day. The day a tuxedo and gown made us feel like the world was ours. Yet, time and trial are two of The Father’s most gracious gifts.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I grumbled from under a blanket of discouragement. This . . . the heavy lifting of enduring to the end. The long-suffering of staying the course, keeping watch, being prepared—even when it feels like we’re getting nowhere. He brought my recovering body breakfast, and prayerfully left the room. Because he knows—whoever prays, believing, shall cast mountains into the sea.
Whatever our lot . . . let’s promise to keep believing, keep praying, keep pointing each other to Christ. Let’s not count on social media to sooth us, the television to move us, the refrigerator to fill us. They never bring light to the light that is Christ. We need a true view of suffering: “Rejoice to the extent you partake in Christ’s sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy.“
My church 