Tag: 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Sharing Hope

Feeling the vibration of my phone in my purse, I pulled it out and checked my texts. A long-time friend was reaching out to ask for prayer as her father neared the end of his life. Feeling weary and discouraged from months of dealing with doctors, caregivers, and grim diagnoses, she’d dashed off a text to a small group of us who had been supporting her. Empathizing with her grief, I replied with words of encouragement and a few verses that had sustained me in similar situations. Other friends chimed in with additional support, prayers, and Bible verses. Later, she replied to tell us how grateful she was to be reminded of the hope found in Jesus. 

In the past few years I’ve had many opportunities like this one. It’s a privilege to help someone reframe hard circumstances by looking at them from an eternal perspective. Experiences like this affirm Priscilla Shirer’s words in her Elijah Bible study: “What God says pinpoints the hinge that separates hope from hopelessness, possibility from impossibility…Elijah’s time in Cherith is what enabled his faith reflex to be so easily ignited during his interaction with the widow. He seemed almost to jump at the chance to introduce God’s provision and promise to her. He didn’t minimize her lack or pretend it wasn’t real…[but] he emphasized the word of the Lord that applied to her specific circumstance.”1

Elijah had experienced God’s miraculous provision first-hand during the eighteen months ravens fed him while living by the brook Cherith (1 Kings 17:2-6). So, when he left Cherith and encountered a starving widow in Zarephath preparing to make her final meal “Elijah said to her, ‘Don’t be afraid….For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’ She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the Lord spoken by Elijah.” (1 Kings 17:13a, 14-16, NIV)

Elijah’s experience in Cherith enabled him to offer life-giving hope to the widow in Zarephath. But this story isn’t meant to stay tucked in the pages of Scripture. Priscilla Shirer challenges us, “Listen to me: Zarephath strategically brings you face to face with someone else’s impossibility—the terminal diagnosis, the unreachable child, the failing marriage, the crippling depression. Hear them and sincerely empathize when they tell you what they see, but don’t leave the conversation without inserting what their omniscient, omnipresent, sovereign, promise-keeping God says.”2

Of course, being able to give hope to someone else implies you’re pursuing God on your own—investing time in His Word, claiming His promises, and trusting that He’s going to come through for you. Our ability to encourage others and point them toward hope depends largely on how well we know God for ourselves. A firm foundation of faith is laid one day at a time. Intimacy with the Lord builds trust and provides hope when the world tells us all is lost. Priscilla Shirer describes the benefit of doing this: “As God matures and refines us, life’s crises won’t be capable of flipping the switch inside us that rams us into fear and anxiety mode. Instead, they will trigger and innate reaction within us to call out, to cry out, to the Lord. To trust Him. To rely on His sovereignty.”3

As we learn to lean into the Lord and let Him speak to us in trials and difficulties, He’ll use those experiences to give us “Zarephath moments” to encourage others. In the New Testament, Paul affirms this saying “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV)

It’s a privilege to come along side others in their pain and struggles; it’s a joy to point them toward hope found only through Jesus. To do this effectively, here are a few suggestions to keep in mind:

1) Don’t rush your own healing process in your zeal to help others. If you’re enduring a trial or hardship, be tender and patient with yourself. Recognize your own limitations. Helping others while you’re still in the midst of your own hard situation can short-circuit your healing and be detrimental to them. You need the benefit of perspective before you’re ready to offer support. Elijah couldn’t attest to the Lord’s provision until he’d completed his tenure by the brook Cherith. 

2) Remember that others’ struggles aren’t exactly like yours. While there may be parallels between the difficulty you’ve had and the one someone else is facing, there are also differences. There’s usually not a one-size-fits-all approach to trials and challenges each of us face. And no one needs to hear how much worse your situation was in comparison with the one they’re enduring. Be honest about what you’ve experienced, but be sensitive and listen well.

3) If you’re going to share a Bible verse, take time to explain why it impacted you. Don’t make Scripture trite by throwing random verses at a hard situation and hoping they’ll stick. It’s meaningful to share promises from the Bible, books, songs, and articles that God used to encourage you, so be sure to tell your struggling friend how you benefited from them.

As you expand in your knowledge of Scripture and experience personal encouragement from it, the Lord will give you opportunities to share His truth with others who need hope too. Why not take a moment to pray about it right now? Try something like this: Lord, help me commit to studying your Word and applying it to my circumstances. Show me where I need personal healing before I can help others. Prompt me with the right words when you’re calling me to be a spokesperson for Your promises, as Elijah was for the widow in Zarephath. Help me to be sensitive and listen well. Please continue to encourage me in my struggles and lead me to opportunities to share hope with others who need it too. 

Let Mike Doheny’s song “All Together” inspire you to be authentic in your personal hardships and empathetic with others. Click here to listen.

  1. Priscilla Shirer, Elijah, Lifeway Press, 2020, 104.
  2. Ibid, 104
  3. Ibid, 109 

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The God of All Comfort

Stepping into line, I clutched my son’s tiny hand and kept my head down as we inched toward his classroom door. The preschool check-in process always took a while, but was usually a fun time to catch up with other moms. Normally I would have been chatting with friends and acquaintances or smiling at people walking by. But on that day, it took every ounce of energy just to walk into the building. Participating in such a “normal” activity felt surreal when I felt so raw, exposed, and vulnerable.

It had been only a few days earlier that I’d sat at my dad’s bedside as he exhaled his final breath surrounded by family. For the two weeks prior to that I’d been consumed with making arrangements, communicating with family, and trekking back and forth to the facility where he was receiving hospice care. I’d been so removed from regular life that it felt overwhelming just being out in public to drop off my son at school. My sagging shoulders and red-rimmed eyes told everyone all was not well with me. It was almost like I had stickers all over my clothes that said, “Fragile: Handle with Care.”

I assumed most of the moms I was standing with knew I’d just lost my dad since one of them had sent flowers from the class. Despite that kind gesture, not one of them acknowledged my loss in person. Some smiled sympathetically while others avoided eye contact. I didn’t fault them for it—most of my peers hadn’t yet experienced the death of a parent and didn’t know what to say, so they took the safest route and decided to say nothing.

After a few awkward minutes, I felt someone’s arms wrap around me from behind. As I turned to see who it was, a mom I barely knew pulled me closer. Hugging me tightly, she said, “I’m so sorry for your loss. My dad died a few years ago– I totally get what you’re going through.” She went on to describe the range of emotions she’d experienced, mirroring mine exactly. What a relief it was to encounter someone who understood my pain. She didn’t try to fix it, she just identified with it.  Her presence and willingness to revisit her own hurt were a tremendous comfort to me.

In the years since then, I’ve tried to be intentional about reaching out to others who have experienced loss. God has regularly prompted me to offer comfort in different ways, whether it is writing a card, providing a listening ear, delivering a meal, or sharing music that has brought me comfort and hope.  It wasn’t until later that I realized that doing these things has been in God’s plan from the start:

 “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV)

Every person on the planet experiences painful situations at different points in life, whether they are visited upon us or self-inflicted. No matter what the circumstances are, we have a choice in how we respond. We can seize the opportunity to let God teach us through hardships, or we can wallow in self-pity and risk becoming disillusioned and bitter. Challenging experiences are conduits for learning and growing spiritually. They also provide fertile ground for receiving God’s comfort. When we lean into Him through them, we also inspire and impact others through the faith we demonstrate.

Difficulties are an opportunity to grow in our empathy for others who will experience similar situations. Our pain can equip us to show God’s comfort to people who desperately need it. We can even be intentional about praying for God to lead us to people we can bless with His comfort.

Sometimes when you’re in a season of pain it may feel like God is distant. However, Scripture promises: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18, NIV)  Ask Him to help you feel His presence and to be open to His comfort. Sometimes He does this through Scripture, a song, or written words from someone with godly wisdom.  Other times, He blesses us with people who can walk with us through our struggles.

Occasionally painful chapters in our lives tempt us to pull back from people and to isolate ourselves. While a little alone time can help to ground you, too much can cause you to spiral into unhealthy places emotionally. Even though it’s difficult, try to let others listen and encourage you. Some may have had similar experiences and can be a source of support for you.  In time, you’ll receive comfort and wisdom and you’ll be able to do the same for someone else.

In God’s economy, nothing is wasted, even our pain. All of it can be used for good when we allow Him to speak to us through it.

If you’re in a difficult season or know someone else who is, be encouraged by Jason Gray’s song “Nothing is Wasted.”

Kelly Minter, All Things New: A Study on 2 Corinthians, Lifeway Press, 2016.

Wandering in the Wilderness Doesn’t Mean You’re Lost

My desert wandering led me to become healthier emotionally, spiritually and relationally. I was never lost because God was right beside me the whole time, gently guiding and teaching me through my struggles.

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The tears were unpredictable and disconcerting. I’d be sitting at the breakfast table with my kids or lying in bed trying to fall asleep and suddenly I’d find myself sobbing uncontrollably. It had been a hard year and although I’d been clinging to the Psalms and praying constantly, the emotional heaviness wouldn’t lift. I was wandering in a wilderness of pain and confusion, much like Priscilla Shirer describes in One in a Million. In her study, she says God “often chooses a wilderness journey for us to give us an opportunity to experience Him in a way we might miss in a place of ease and convenience…we have to decide if we will follow where He is leading and trust that He knows what he is doing” (p. 34-35).

For me, that wilderness time came unexpectedly. Over the span of a few months, three significant relationships in my life changed course without warning, leaving me wondering what I’d done wrong.   Each person had withdrawn from me for different reasons. My safe and comfortable world suddenly felt cold and lonely. Worse still, one of the relationships was within my circle of friends at church. So I struggled silently, not wanting to gossip or call attention to the ways our close community was being quietly torn apart. Attending Sunday worship, Bible study and small group became triggers for anxiety and discouragement. I often left feeling worse than when I arrived.

I’d been living in this wilderness for eight months when the tears started flowing inexplicably. Without warning, a flood of emotion would overwhelm me, with no clear explanation for what had caused it. Despite my efforts to lean into God, to pray and find comfort in His Word, the deep sadness seemed to be pulling me under little by little. It was a difficult time in my life, but few people knew about it. I was a master at putting up a façade and appearing to have everything under control.

Finally, when my angst seemed to consume every moment of our time at home, my husband said the dreaded words I needed to hear. “I’m here for you and I want to help you, but I think it’s time for you to go to counseling too.” After some weak protesting, I admitted he was right. Making the phone call to schedule the first appointment was one of the best and hardest things I’ve ever done. Maybe that’s why Priscilla Shirer’s words resonate with me so much: “You and I must boldly ask the Lord to let us see Him, even if the light of his presence is best seen against the veil of darkness.” (p.37)

With the help of my godly counselor, I began to peel back the layers of pain. I was able to understand myself and to see how the fractured relationships I’d been grieving were indicators of deeper issues that needed to be confronted. I’d been wandering on my own, trying to find relief, now I had a fellow traveler on my wilderness journey. She had a map and the tools I needed to find emotional healing and health. The things that caused me pain became catalysts for growth.

Although that was a dark time in my life, I look back on it now with gratitude. I learned about my assumptions and how they affected the way I saw myself. My identity was wrapped up in my relationships with people and my desire to be valued by them. That season in the wilderness was refining the parts of me that needed to be changed before God could use my gifts to bless others. I doubt I would be writing this or any other blog if I hadn’t gone through that time or done the hard work to get healthy with the help of my counselor.

Taking that journey through the wilderness enabled me to be more honest with myself. It allowed me to be authentic and to identify with others in their struggles. Instead of trying to hide the parts of me that were messy and complicated, I started using them to connect with others and to help them on their own journeys. My wilderness experience made it possible for me to do what Scripture describes:

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV)

My desert wandering led me to become healthier emotionally, spiritually and relationally.  I was never lost because God was right beside me the whole time, gently guiding and teaching me through my struggles.

Similarly, God never left the Israelites in their wanderings. He was there leading them each step of the way: “Now the Lord was going before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them in the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel day or night. He did not remove the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night from before the people.” (Exodus 13:21-22, NIV)

Each stop along their route had a specific purpose. They were not aimlessly wandering–God was guiding them intentionally throughout their journey. Let this be an encouragement if you are in a season of wandering. God is right there beside you, waiting for you to learn the valuable things He has to teach.

Not every wilderness experience requires the help of a trained counselor like mine did (but don’t rule it out if you think it might help). No matter what we’re facing, our difficulties can always be used for greater good when we trust God, stay engaged in His Word and enlist the support of wise and godly people.

I love the message of Steven Curtis Chapman’s song “Glorious Unfolding.” It reminds me never to put a period where God intends a comma. God sees so much farther than our limited view of life. Our wilderness journeys are temporary experiences designed to take us to places better than we can imagine. We can stand firm, trusting He’ll walk beside us through the wilderness and all the way to the Promised Land.

Click on the link to enjoy “Glorious Unfolding” and to watch the inspiring story the video tells.

Shirer, Priscialla; One in a Million, Journey to Your Promised Land; Lifeway Press, 2009