Tag Archives: Hope

Coping with Overwhelming Distress

Part Three: Be Hopeful

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peacewill be with you” (Philippians 4:8-9).

Strategy #3: “Be Hopeful. Focus on what God is doing. Not on what God is not doing.”

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked myself, full of frustration and distress over yet another report of abuse, exploitation, or horrific destruction of lives, “Where is God?” Yet, when I start spiraling downward in my mind and emotions, I have to remind myself that this line of thinking isn’t going to help me or anyone else.

Instead of focusing on everything that is wrong in the world, it’s much better when I look for and concentrate on all that is right. Instead of letting myself become frustrated with all that God is not doing that I would like him to do, it is so much more life-giving to look for and focus on all the signs of God’s goodness, care, and blessing.

As one recent example, a woman shared again with me how much pain and suffering she’s had to endure because of being sexually abused as a child and again as an adult. The damage done was profound. Her life has been irreparably scarred. Yet, I’m sharing her story with you, because of what God has been doing in her life through her long process of seeking healing. After attending two retreats for abused women and men, I saw hope in her eyes and heard strength in her voice, which I had not seen or heard in a long time. She has no answers for why God allowed this abuse to take place, but in contemplating the suffering of Jesus Christ, while being gently guided by trained facilitators and a therapist, she’s been experiencing God’s loving, transforming presence in ways she once thought impossible.

Here’s another example from a few weeks ago: With only three to six months to live, a dear friend of mine shared how he’s been experiencing God amid his losing battle to cancer. In hospice, with a tube permanently inserted into his nostril and an IV attached to his arm, he told me that he felt a great sense of peace despite recurring moments of great pain. He has reconciled with his sister, has been supported daily by family and people from his church, and is confident that his life is secure in God’s hands through his faith in Jesus. Little did he or I know that that his final day would come much sooner than expected. Instead of three to six months to live, he died just a few days before I wrote this post, less than one month after our initial conversation. God did not heal him or spare him from pain, but God was present to him when he needed God’s peace and reassurance that he would spend eternity with his loving Lord in heaven. And for that he was deeply grateful.

Likewise, over the past couple weeks here in the borderlands between Myanmar and Thailand, I’ve heard many expressions of grief, frustration, anger, fear and hopelessness, just as I’ve heard in my ministry to people living in war zones and refugee camps elsewhere. But over and over again, my students, colleagues, and friends also speak about many unexpected blessings, too. Amid so much evil, loss, and pain, they also see God providing, sustaining, and encouraging them in many ways. And they, too, feel grateful.

The lesson in all this is clear to me. I may never understand why God doesn’t do more to help those who are suffering unjustly and cruelly, but the more we choose to focus on what is good, right, true, and lovely (Phil. 4:8-9)—hopeful aspects of life which derive from the goodness and love of God—the more peace, joy, and strength we’re going to experience from day to day.

As this three-part series draws to a close, I urge you to keep leaning on your faith in Christ and relationship with God as you seek to cope with whatever overwhelming distress you may be experiencing. And always remember these three tips, which have been so helpful to me personally:

  1. Be self-compassionate. Take good care of yourself. Seek refreshment in the Lord.
  2. Be constructive. Focus on what you can do, not on what you can’t. And,
  3. Be hopeful. Focus on what God is doing, not on what God is not doing.

And the God of peace will be with you.

With the love of Jesus Christ,

Dr. Tim

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Coping with Overwhelming Distress

Part One: Self-Compassion

Are you tired of feeling angry, sad, or hopeless so much of the time? I sure am.

When I returned from Thailand in June, I came home very tired. I was grateful for all the opportunities I had had to teach and minister to refugees and church leaders along the Myanmar-Thai border, but I felt stressed and worn out. The needs were great, and I felt my limitations keenly. Then, as I saw with horror what was happening in my own country, as well as in many other places around the world, my distress began multiplying. My peace and joy dissipated. I was angry most of the time, and I increasingly felt like I was fighting a losing battle.

For my own sanity and well-being, I needed to do something different. But what?

Over the next couple months, I’m going to be writing about some of what I’ve been learning about coping with overwhelming distress. Starting with this post, I’m going to be sharing three strategies that have been helpful to me personally. I hope that they will also be useful to you as well.

Strategy #1: Be self-compassionate. Take loving care of yourself and look to God to refresh your heart and mind.

The Psalmist (King David) tells us that in his times of distress he found what he needed in his relationship with God, whom he knew as his loving shepherd. In the now famous Psalm 23, the first few verses go like this:

“The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul” (Psalm 23:1-3a, NIV).

David didn’t criticize himself for feeling afraid, overwhelmed, or discouraged by his circumstances. He also didn’t try to tough it out or shame himself for needing comfort or help from God. No, in his distress, David acknowledged his needs and reached out to his Shepherd for the restoration and refreshment he could not provide for himself in the same way.

As I prayed for wisdom to know what would help me in my distress this summer, the answer came fairly quickly. Contrary to the voices that sometimes creep into my head, the answer was not to “suck it up,” chastising myself for being weak. Shaming myself for complaining when the IDPs (internally displaced people) and refugees have it so much worse than I would only drain me of whatever energy I still had. Pushing harder and trying to do more was not going to help either. That would only burn me out.

Instead, what I most needed was to be kind to myself. I needed to see how very distressed and troubled I was feeling, and to respond to myself with compassion. Just as I have often tried to be gracious and generous to others amid their suffering, it was time for me to show the same empathy and consideration toward myself. And the result has been transformative.

Slowing my pace and resting more has been healing. Playing sports has been fun, and working out regularly has made me feel better physically and emotionally. Walking in the forest, boating on the lake, or just being out in nature as much as possible has been nourishing and literally a breath of fresh air. Enjoying time with family and friends has satisfied my cravings for love and affection. And getting alone to think, write in my journal, pray, read the Bible, or just sit and listen to music has been so helpful. I need to stay grounded to (re)gain and maintain perspective. It’s how I stay connected to my Shepherd as well as to myself.

By tending to my needs in these ways, I wasn’t giving up on those I cared about and have been called to serve. Not at all. I have been exercising self-compassion. I’ve been treating myself kindly and tapping into the many resources God has provided for my nourishment, enjoyment, and renewal—both for my sake and for the sake of all those God has entrusted into my care.

How about you? How are you coping with your anger, weariness, and anguish these days? 

When you take care of yourself in the ways God intends for you, it’s not self-indulgence, self-pity, or self-centeredness. It’s self-compassion, which flows from the very heart of your loving Shepherd, who sees you in your distress and wants to make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still, restorative waters. The Lord doesn’t only care about what you do for others. He also cares about you and wants you to believe that you, too, are worthy of kindness and compassion.

So, take good care, beloved ones…

With the love of Jesus Christ,

Dr. Tim

For more spiritual resources: https://fhlglobal.org/resource-library/

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Don’t Give Up!

Why Joseph refused to act like a victim

Medical staff at Mae La Refugee Camp Hospital, Zone C (now volunteering)

One of my favorite biblical characters is Joseph, whose story is told in Genesis 37-50. His father, Israel, loved him more than any of his other 11 brothers, but throughout much of his life he suffered unjustly. His brothers threw him into a pit and then sold him into slavery. He was forcibly taken from the land of Canaan to Egypt, where his new master’s wife falsely accused him. He was thrown into prison and could have been executed, but God protected him through all his trials. Eventually, he was able to use his gift of dream interpretation to gain the favor of the Pharaoh. From this one unexpected, miraculous moment in his life, he rose to second in command in all of Egypt, and God used him to save many people from starvation during a seven-year famine.

When Joseph’s brothers came from Canaan to Egypt searching for food, they were terrified that he would get revenge on them. However, instead of being bitter, hateful, or vindictive, Joseph chose to interpret his unjust, cruel treatment through the eyes of faith. His now famous statement has inspired believers ever since: “You intended to harm me,” he explained to his brothers, “but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50:20, NIV).

Wow. What an amazing perspective. Joseph had every right to nurse old wounds, play the victim, or demand retribution against his cruel brothers. But he didn’t do any of that. He chose another path.

In my work teaching, preaching, and ministering among the Karen and Karenni refugees in western Thailand, the Christians there have taught me much about what it means to live by faith, hope, and love, despite their awful circumstances and bleak futures. Along the border, most are stateless, not able to return (safely) to Myanmar nor free to travel (legally) around Thailand or to other countries. Nevertheless, they are choosing to focus on the future, not the past. They are thinking about the good they can do, despite or because of their circumstances, not about all the unjust, horrible things that happened to put them in their current situation.

Volunteers distributing rice to needy people within Tham Hin Refugee Camp, Thailand

They are going to school, providing emergency care for those who have been forced to flee their homes or villages due to the war, sharing the Gospel, providing medical care for free in the camps (due to cuts in foreign aid from USA), sharing food, and teaching children, sometimes in the middle of the jungle, after villages and schools were demolished by the military. Despite repeated bombings, destruction of their homes, and displacement, these victims of over 75 years of oppression and civil war are refusing to live as if their lives are over. They believe that God has not abandoned them, and they’re putting their faith into action, accordingly.

Joseph and others like him who have had to cope with an enormous amount of injustice, hardships, and suffering, have so much to teach us. The lesson is clear: If you want to keep from being defeated by your circumstances, keep putting your trust in God. Never stop believing that God can create an opportunity for you in the least likely of places and worst of situations.

You may not always be able to make sense of your experience or see how God is at work, but never give up hope. Never stop believing that God is going to do something good in your life—for your sake and for the sake of all those God wants to help, encourage, and bless through you. You have been chosen by God to serve his good purposes. Your life matters. Believe it and live it.

With the love of Jesus Christ,

Dr. Tim

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9, NIV)

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The Journey to Joy

How Jesus can help you get back on your feet

Right before he was crucified, Jesus said to his disciples, “You will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy…. Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy” (John 16:20, 22, NIV).

What a wonderful and hopeful promise. Yet, we all know that the journey to joy is not always an easy one. It certainly is not something that can be forced, especially when you’re feeling the heaviness of sadness or grief. Who can be joyful when you’re heart-broken, frustrated, discouraged, or simply overwhelmed by life or all that’s wrong with the world?

Nevertheless, Jesus, on his way to the cross, knowing all the suffering that still lay ahead for him and his disciples, could still speak about joy. Joy that no one could ever take away.

What did he have in mind, and is that joy available for us today?

In my previous blog post, I wrote that sometimes in our lives it’s time to grieve. When we’ve experienced great loss, we need to feel your feelings, give ourselves permission to be angry or sad, and cry our bitter tears. But grief need not be the sum of all our emotional experiences. There is a pathway to joy again for those who know where to look and where to go.  

When evil asserts its destructive forces, people will suffer, sometimes horribly. That’s a fact. Life is full of pain and suffering for every human being, and sometimes the weight of it all threatens to crush us. Yet, while we may have little or no control over the amount pain we feel—especially when we are physically sick or there are abusive people in our lives—psychologists tell us that it is possible to mitigate the extent of our suffering. And Jesus tells us, despite the worst of what we might have to endure, joy is not far off.

Jesus revealing himself to two disciples after the resurrection (Luke 24:31)

In the case of the disciples, Jesus said their grief would turn to joy. That was his promise. Not an easy life, health and wealth, power or privilege. In fact, early Christians sometimes were persecuted horribly, many lived in poverty their entire lives, and ten of the original 12 disciples were martyred.

Yet, at the same time, somehow, there would also be joy. The disciples would literally see Jesus again. They would be able to resume their close, intimate relationship. Their grief would turn to joy—a joy no one would be able to take from them (John 16:22). And that has been the experience for countless millions of people who have come to know and experience Jesus in their personal lives ever since.

For me personally, I feel so much joy every time I hear again the good news of the Gospel—even if it is for thousandth time: “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16, NIV). Knowing and believing that God loves me and generously offers me forgiveness, salvation and eternal life is so marvelous that I cannot find adequate words to describe the joy I feel. And it doesn’t stop there. Whenever I sense God’s gracious, merciful, kind, generous, healing, or life-giving presence, the peace and joy I feel is indescribable.

Over the past five years, one of my greatest sources of joy has come from commiserating with other like-minded people of faith, many of whom are also grappling with so much death, destruction, and suffering in the world. Many conversations can devolve into angry outbursts or rehearsing the same offenses and fears again and again. But the turning point for me often comes when we stop complaining or wringing our hands in fear and start praying.

When I pour out my heart to God with a brother or sister in Christ, a deep peace often settles over me. And more than once, I’ve opened my eyes to see one or more of my prayer partners beaming with the same joy that I was feeling. In such moments, I don’t feel so alone or hopeless anymore. Jesus’s living presence has been revealed. I see him in them, and they see him in me. God has not abandoned me in my suffering. There is still goodness in the world. Jesus Christ is present and at work in me and among others who know, love, and serve him as I do.

As Jesus said: In this world you will have much grief, but your grief will turn to joy.

No matter how much you may have lost or what you may be going through right now, Jesus’s promise to his disciples is for you, too. You don’t have to suffer alone, without hope and without joy.

The journey to joy begins and ends with Jesus. See where he is. Embrace him. And you will have a source of comfort and joy, forever.

With the love of Jesus Christ,

Dr. Tim

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13).

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A Time to Grieve

Sometimes weeping is exactly what we most need to do. (A Biblical Reflection for Holy Week)

The Pieta in a frieze depicting Mary’s grief (In the choir, Chartres Cathedral, France)

In the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, the preacher writes: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die… a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance…” (3:1,4).

So, what time is it? What time is it for those living in places like Myanmar, Eastern Congo, Ukraine, Gaza, and many other places around the world, for those whose lives are consumed by unimaginable hardship, violence, and loss due to war, earthquakes, famines and other apocalyptic like disasters? What time is it in America? What time is it for you?

For me, there is not one simple answer. On one hand, the problems and suffering of the world call me to take my responsibility as a global citizen all the more seriously, to look for more ways to support my brothers and sisters in Christ around the world, to speak out against injustice at home and abroad, to protect the vulnerable and abused, to share the Gospel with those who do not know the hope that comes through Jesus, and to link arms with others who are trying to exhibit the love of Christ in concrete ways to those in need.

At yet, sometimes it all feels like too much. Sometimes weeping is exactly what I most need to do. And it’s not just me. One of my closest colleagues in Myanmar, who does more than anyone I know to help others in need, wrote to me after the 7.7 magnitude earthquake and admitted, “Sometimes I feel very depressed.” Another colleague from Ukraine confided to me, “I am war fatigued, to say the least.” At such times, as much as I would like to bury my painful feelings, run away, or just collapse in weariness, what I usually need most is to stop trying to help anyone else for a moment and take some time to grieve.

  • By grieving, I release the tremendous pain I feel before it explodes inside me or utterly depresses me.
  • By grieving, I can feel and not forget how much I loved whomever or whatever I lost.
  • By grieving, I can rage against the powers of death and destruction, refusing to be defeated by evil.
  • By grieving, I feel the depth of my frustration and tap into my determination to live.   
  • By grieving, I admit to myself, “So much is out of my control. There’s so much I would like to have been able to do but couldn’t.”
  • By grieving, I give up expecting unrealistic miracles. Instead, I reach the end of myself and reach out to God and others for the comfort and strength I need.

On Good Friday, Christians remember the awful day when evil forces conspired to kill Jesus. In the photo you see, Mary, the mother of Jesus, is depicted with her hands outstretched, her face contorted with grief, and her eyes turned heavenward. Her beloved son, Jesus, had just been brutally nailed to a cross, executed for daring to challenge the religious authorities, who were blind to God’s working through his life and indifferent to the needs of the poor, needy, and vulnerable.

In her moment of unimaginable pain, with Jesus’s lifeless body draped over her knee, Mary could only see and feel her great loss. She didn’t know that resurrection was coming. Even if she had all the faith in the world, the horror of it all remains. What must it have been like for Jesus’s poor mother? What is it like for those burying their dead in Mandalay, in bombed out villages, in IDP camps? For those who are still searching for lost ones, who have disappeared or are presumed dead under the rubble of fallen buildings?

I only imagine how great their grief must be. But I do know this. For those who turn to God amid their pain and loss, and for those who put their faith in Jesus Christ, they do not “grieve… as those who have no hope” (1 Thess. 4:13). Why not? Because through a relationship with Jesus Christ, we do have hope. Hope that we are not alone or abandoned by our Creator. Hope for life after death—not just a reincarnation into another life of suffering, but eternal life with new bodies, hearts, and minds, re-created to live in fellowship with God forever. This promise is for all those who know and love their Creator and who put their faith Jesus Christ as their Savior and Lord. It’s by Christ’s sacrificial death that we are forgiven. It’s by the Holy Spirit that our hearts and minds are renewed. And it’s by believing that we are saved (Romans 8:1-6; 10:9-10).

That’s the hope we as Christians live by. But for this holy week, we must pass through Good Friday first. The night is so very dark, and our tears flow. It’s a time to grieve.

With the love of Jesus Christ,

Dr. Tim

Next time, I will write about “The Journey to Joy”.

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The Light of Day

Why keeping our eyes on Jesus is so helpful

What do you think? Is the sun rising or setting in this photo? Without context, it’s not always so easy to tell the time of day.

Likewise, when darkness casts a thick shadow over our personal lives, or over our country and so many other places around the world, we may feel confused and uncertain about what’s really happening. What does all this turmoil, violence, and destruction mean for us and the people we care about? Is the light we’ve been depending on going to keep shining, get brighter, or God-forbid, go out altogether?

Personally, I’ve been going through all the stages of grief lately (shock, bargaining, anger, depression–but not yet acceptance) over the cataclysmic changes in my own country and all the upheaval and fallout globally. As I’ve written about before, I especially feel a lot of empathy for my students, colleagues, and friends trying to cope with ongoing, unimaginable oppression, abuse, and hardship in their war-torn contexts—especially those trying to survive in Eastern Congo, Myanmar, and along the Thai-Myanmar border, where I am serving now.

But this blog post is not about social and political problems, or even empathy for those who are suffering the most in our lives or around the world. It’s about how you and I can cope with the prevalence of darkness in our lives, especially when the light appears to be dimming in so many places for so many reasons for so many people. At times, I am tempted to despair. And you may be, too.

But I don’t. Despair, that is. And here’s the reason why.

The Apostle John wrote about him in the Bible, when he said:

“In him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:4-5, NRSV).

John was speaking, of course, about the incarnation of God in the form of Jesus Christ. He was saying that Son of God came into this world to shine the light of God into our darkness. Despite appearances to the contrary at times, our Creator is good and does care for us. Regardless of how bleak our circumstances or how unloving or hurtful others may be, in Jesus, there is light. There is love. And there is hope.

The key is to know where to look for the light and how to let the light of Jesus shine more brightly in our hearts and minds. You may have your own way of drawing on the light of God, but in my experience, if I want more of God, I have to reach out to him as a matter of intentionality and discipline. I have to pay attention to what’s beautiful, good, and inspiring in creation and in my family and among my friends. I must surround myself with others who can encourage me with their experiences with God, especially my brothers and sisters in Christ who remind me that I’m not alone and that God does answer prayers. And then what probably helps me the most is getting outside myself to do something loving and kind for somebody else. When I help lighten the burdens of others or simply show up to encourage them in their distress, I often feel better. I intend to be a conduit of God’s love to them, but I wind up experiencing God’s love for me in the process. And the light in my life gets brighter for me as well as for them.

These are dark days for many people. Perhaps for you, too. But do not assume that the light in your life is about to go out. Suffering may be an unavoidable part of human experience, and great losses are inevitable for all of us in this life. However, John’s word of hope remains true: “In him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

May Jesus be the Light of your day today and shine more and more brightly in your heart and mind in the days ahead.

With love always,
Dr. Tim

Photo: Sun rising in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

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A Different Kind of Happy

Saw Newton, two of my Karen students, and I being hosted by the pastor of one of the churches in Umpiem Refugee Camp, on the Thailand side of the Myanmar-Thai border.

Faith-inspired happiness

This holiday season, I’m thinking a lot about those who are far away from home, those who cannot go home, those who no longer have a home to go to, and those who may still live at home but no longer feel safe or happy in their own home. That means, I’m thinking a lot about so many of you–my students, colleagues and friends in Myanmar, Thailand, and the Congo, and also about so many others I know who are carrying such heavy burdens right now. I know this past year has been tough in many ways for so many, and the year ahead may be full of even more uncertainty.

At the same time, as we move into a new year, I see something else at work in your lives. Something hopeful.

The Psalmist wrote: “The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desire of all who fear him; he also hears their cry and saves them. The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.” (Psalm 145:18-20, NRSV)

Repeatedly we read such hopeful messages in the Bible. Though evil doers cause so much pain and destruction, God is still able to fulfill our heart’s desire and accomplish his good purposes in our lives. Even in our darkest night, nothing can extinguish the light of Jesus Christ or snuff out God’s forgiveness and salvation. Amid our suffering and long wait for God to bring justice to this broken world, the Holy Spirit comforts us by reminding us that God is watching over us.

We may not always perceive God’s care, and too many of the world’s population see no hint of God’s justice throughout their lifetimes. But the consistent witness of the Bible is that the world is not spinning out of God’s control, despite appearances to the contrary. No one knows when God may undermine evil doers, overthrow cruel tyrants, and subvert systems of oppression, but God will ultimately right the wrongs and save those who love him and put their trust in him. Our job is to continually pray for God’s will to be done and for God to deliver us from the evil one (Matt. 6:9-13) and to focus on the good that is within our power to do—loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves (Matt. 22:37-40).

When I stop to think about all this, I feel happier. I’m happy to be loved by my Creator, to know him, and to believe that my life has meaning and purpose because of God’s ongoing work in my life. I’m happy to not have to face the troubles of this world alone. I have support. I have help. I’m also happy that I am surrounded by other people who, like me, know and love God and want to serve him by helping others and contributing to the world. We have so much in common that even our shared tears, along with all we are working for and experiencing together, fill the empty, longing places in my heart.

And all this makes me happy, very happy, most of the time. Of course, I struggle with sadness, anger, frustration, despair, and fear like everyone else. Sometimes, all I can do is cry out to God or try to distract myself from my pain. But having such a personal relationship God and surrounding myself with other like-minded and like-hearted followers of Jesus has made all the difference. It’s this kind of faith-inspired happiness I treasure the most. And that’s what I am wishing, hoping, and praying for you, too, as we go into another year.

So, Happy New Year. Take heart. “The LORD is near to all who call on him, who call on him in truth.”  

With the love of Jesus,

Dr. Tim

President, Faith, Hope, and Love Global Ministries (www.fhlglobal.org)

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When They Die Too Soon

A Biblical Reflection on Handling the Premature Death of a Loved One

Monument in the Mae La Refugee camp, near the Myanmar-Thai border, in Thailand

When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed.They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again….” (Acts 20:36-38, NIV)

Recently, another one of my former students from Myanmar was tragically killed. Not yet 25 years old, La Seng sacrificed his life for something he believed in. He died a hero and inspiration to many. One of his closest friends, in mourning his death, told me that La Seng was a symbol of love and integrity. He showed by his life—and by his willingness to risk death—what it means to live by his faith and put love into action.

Yet, his death was deeply disturbing, too. He was way too young, and the hole he left was big. Those who knew and loved him feel devastated. To me, he was like a spiritual son. God had used our special connection to guide and encourage him at a critical point in his life. He had found peace in the direction he chose. Alongside his willingness to serve his country, he led a ministry to children and became known among his classmates and friends as someone who was exceptional conduit of God’s love and grace.

What good could possibly come out this loss and so many others like it? How are we supposed to handle it when someone like this dies too soon and leaves such a big void in our lives?

In Acts 20, the Apostle Paul doesn’t answer this question directly, but his farewell speech to the elders of the church in Ephesus (in modern day Turkey) offers many helpful insights. He called the elders to meet with him one last time on a beach a several days journey from their home. He knew that he would be arrested, abused, and unjustly killed at some point in the future, and he wanted to prepare them and say goodbye. Knowing that their hearts would be broken, he prayed for them and urged them to remember their experience with him, to live by what he taught them about Jesus, and to follow the example that he had set for them.

At one point he said, “Now I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified.” Then later he added, “In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’” (Acts 20:32, 35)

The lesson from Paul’s words and example is profound. In your times of great loss and suffering, you are not alone. You are not without hope. All is not lost. Your painful experiences and heart-breaking losses don’t have to break or defeat you. God still has a purpose for your life. And Jesus shows you the way.

The death of those who die too soon may feel like a waste, but their death need not be wasted. When you lose people whom you’ve admired, respected, or loved, all that they gave to you is still within you. Nothing can remove the sting of their death, and your grief may linger for years. Yet, the memory of them can remain a source of inspiration and strength for the rest of your life. And God’s “word of grace” can minister to your broken heart and nourish and feed your soul.

You can move beyond focusing so much on the pain of your loss and turn your attention to those who are still living, those you who need from you what God has equipped you to offer. And, by God’s grace, the road filled with too many early deaths can become a pathway overflowing with life.

“And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the power forever and ever. Amen.” (1 Peter 5:10, NRSV).

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Deep Calls to Deep

A Reflection on God’s Comforting and Inspiring Presence in Nature

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God. …Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. By day the LORD commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life” (Psalm 42:5, 7-8, NRSV).

Some of my most treasured experiences have come from sitting by the lake in northern Wisconsin, watching yet another beautiful sunset and sharing the moment with the love of my life. With so many troubles and concerns always on my mind—especially for my students, colleagues, and friends who have been suffering for years in Myanmar, Thailand, and Eastern Congo—taking time in nature is so therapeutic.

When I contemplate the wonders and beauty of God’s creation, listen to the cry of the gulls soaring overhead, and almost feel the velvet-like softness of the rippling waves gently rolling to the shore, I feel peaceful once again.

What is it about being in nature that draws me to God and transforms me? How is it that I can start out weary and drained and leave renewed and reinvigorated?

“Deep calls to deep,” the Psalmist wrote. I get it. Somehow in the presence of God’s handiwork, it becomes easier for me to perceive God’s presence. I can believe again that I am not alone in this world and that there is something good and hopeful that is worth believing in and working for.

In this vision of goodness, beauty, kindness, and love, my desire to participate in God’s sacred love flow is rekindled. And while I cannot say what hope there may be for those I care and feel so much compassion for, I know that I cannot turn away from their pain or mine. I cannot carry all the burdens that so easily overwhelm me. It’s too much. But I can continue to care and to love to the best of my ability. I can offer whatever I have to those who need a helping hand, a smile, a word of encouragement, a relevant Bible verse, or just a listening ear. I can let God’s love flow through me, trusting that the Holy Spirit will use me if I simply make myself available within my limits.

I think the secret of this kind of renewal of the heart and mind is this. The more I lift my eyes to look at my Creator and contemplate the goodness in creation, the more my despair dissipates. The more my angst over my powerlessness recedes, and the more comfortable I am with my limitations. It’s not resignation or surrender, it’s acceptance and trust.

I have such limited ability to save others anywhere near as much as I would like to. But by re-grounding myself in God and renewing my weary and broken heart, I find new strength to reach out once again and be present to those in need. In those moments of deep connection with my Creator, the Holy Spirit reminds me that God is still actively at work in the world for good, and I still can participate and contribute, despite my frailty and limitations. And that is enough.

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Grieving Our Losses

…honestly, yet hopefully

[Four minute read]

Serving victims of oppression, brutality, and destruction in Myanmar, Thailand, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo has forced me to grapple with unimaginable trauma and despair afflicting those living in or fleeing war zones. Their suffering and losses are often unimaginable to someone like me, who grew up in a comfortable, relatively safe, Midwestern town in the United States. Yet, there they are. Right in front of my eyes.

Sometimes, all they have left is their tears. Sometimes, all they can feel is their rage. Their future has been decimated. Their hope shattered. Biblical promises fall flat. God seems cruelly absent.

Just recently, one of my former students in Myanmar, Pastor “Kyaw”, texted me with some tragic news. His village had been bombed. Several were killed or injured. For many, everything they owned went up in flames. More than 200 homes now lie in ruins, including his own. As is true for some three million people throughout Myanmar, most of the people have sought shelter in an internally displaced persons (IDP) camp or have fled the country. Their village has become a ghost town.

How are they going to survive? How are they going to cope psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually? What will be the long term of effect of such trauma and loss?

In talking with Pastor Kyaw, Psalm 137 came to mind. I’m sure the ancient Israelites were asking themselves the same questions during their exile in Babylon (6th Century BC). They had been conquered by an invading army. They were forced from their beloved villages and country. They had lost everything that was “home” to them and were now captives in a foreign land. As far as they could see, they had no hope. No future.

“By the rivers of Babylon—there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion…. O daughter Babylon, you devastator! Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!” (Psalm 137: 1, 8-9, NRSV)

According to the famous psychiatrist, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, those who suffer significant loss typically move through five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance (On Death and Dying, 1969). 

  • “Denial” is when you are still in shock or just can’t get your head around what just happened or what bad news the doctor told you is going to happen. 
  • In “Anger,” you rage, sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly. You never dreamed that something like this would happen to you. And if someone betrayed you or let you down—whether it is yourself, someone else, or God—you might be really angry about it, and wind up lashing out with hateful or violent words to hurt whomever you blame for your loss.
  • In the “Bargaining” stage, you might obsess on how you might have prevented the tragedy. “If only I had done [this or that] ….” Or, if you’re grappling with bad news for the future, you may make desperate promises to yourself, to others, or to God. “I promise I will do better….” hoping to somehow prevent the inevitable.
  • In “Depression,” the horrible truth has finally sunk in, but it may feel like too much to bear. Your energy and drive are gone. You may be plagued with guilt, shame, or despair. You may not even want to get out of bed in the morning. 
  • Fortunately, depression need not be the final stage in grief. For most people, at some point, there comes “Acceptance.” Here, you finally accept what you cannot change in the past or something that is going to happen. You may retain an emotional tie to someone or something you have lost, but the bond you feel ceases to be debilitating. Your strength and motivation to live return. 

I don’t know for sure which stage the ancient Israelites were in when Psalm 137 was written. It’s obvious they were in a lot of pain, and they certainly hadn’t reached the acceptance stage. They were still weeping and raging. The psalmist was even dreaming of the most cruel kind vengeance imaginable. His feelings were raw and real, but only one snapshot within his undoubtedly long grief process.

Thus, we should not think this psalm is blessing hatefulness or brutal retribution. Rather, it acknowledges the need for honesty about our darkest and most troubled feelings en route to healing and wholeness. Our instinctive reactions may look really ugly at times, but honesty must precede transformation.

When I feel distraught or full of rage, as painful as it may be, it’s usually best if I let myself feel my feelings. I try not to condemn myself for feeling hateful or vengeful, but I don’t act on these feelings. I recognize that I’m grieving, and such reactions are normal. I need to be honest about how I’m feeling, but I don’t have to stay stuck there. Truly, I don’t want to waste my life being angry all the time.

After Jesus’ horrific killing, followed by his astonishing resurrection, the time came for him to say goodbye to his disciples. One more loss for the disciples. Yet, according to the Gospel of Matthew (28:19-20), Jesus urged his disciples to look forward, not backwards. He told them to focus on their calling, which in their case was to preach, teach, and demonstrate the truth of the Gospel. And he assured them that they would not be alone. “And surely,” Jesus promised, “I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20b). 

When I come to the depression stage, sometimes, I just need to feel sad. My sadness honors the fact that I cared a lot about whatever was (or will be) lost. Yet, as upsetting or devastating as the situation may be, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling sad. Depression is not my destiny. I may not feel hopeful at the moment, but I can choose to believe that God is present and at work in my life for good. And I can reach out to Jesus to ask for help to escape the darkness and despair.

I don’t know what kind of loss you might be grieving right now, or what stage of grief you might be in. But based on my ministry among victims of war and great loss, my personal experience, and the teaching of the Bible, I can assure you there’s more to your life and future than whatever you’re experiencing at the moment. It won’t always feel this awful. There will be a better day. No matter what you may have lost, you still have an important purpose in life. There’s work for you do—people who need your love and care. Other grieving or struggling wayfarers, who need a word of encouragement or simply a helping hand. …those who do not know the hope you have of an enduring relationship with God through Jesus.

So, grieve your own losses honestly. Be compassionate and patient with yourself as you work through the various stages of grief. Yet also remain hopeful. You are not alone, and Jesus Christ has called you to share in his ministry of love in this broken world full of so much sorrow and pain.

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