Hope Renewed: A True Story - Ron

Alone and frustrated; a man with his thoughts

Flying in frontwards, back, and across.

Lost in the moment and dreading the future,

Afraid that past failures would tie in like a suture.

 

It is hard to be victorious when victory is fleeting,

And when all the forces of hell are bent on misleading.

But the struggle is real, and the battle is fierce,

And the man fights less valiantly with every enemy pierce.

He is up and moving; fulfilling his duties,

But his heart is far gone, and his thoughts are concluding

That failure is standard and maybe he’s lost,

And he can’t find the peace promised by the Cross.

 

He has preached it, taught it, and heard it proclaimed,

And for some it seems easy, so what is wrong with his brain?

Were the therapists right to say the chemicals are imbalanced

Was the Bi-Polar diagnosis not a result of his spiritual malpractice?

What was the reason for these lifelong addictions,

And why are they so strong and where is the main friction?

And why is the man, alone with his thoughts,

Considering an end to all life has wrought?

Why do his failures pile up like water

Waiting to crush this husband and father?

Where is the joy, the mercy, and grace?

And why has harsh judgment crowded their space?

 

He battles alone as wave after wave

Of trying and failing threaten him with the grave.

And maybe it is better, he realized with a start,

If his failures and disappointments ended with his beating heart.

And little by little, then more and more,

His castles all crumbled and he lost the safety of shore.

Completely unknown, lost without hope,

He put on his mask and continued to cope.

 

But the best laid plans must contend with the unknown,

And one can never know what tomorrow may bring home.

In all his inner sorrow and misery and pain,

He grew further from where he was headed when he began.

His love grew cold, his thoughts became selfish,

And his inward focus just beat him down further.

 

He was never enough, and he could never rest,

And sometimes he couldn’t breathe for the weight on his chest.

And “Where are you God?” He sometimes would cry,

And he’d weep for an answer beneath an ever-silent sky.

 

In Heaven’s throne room, perhaps the deceiver would boast,

“Look at this man-child, and judge who he loves most.

He is wallowing, now, so close to the end.

And I think that he is finally about to give in.

He claims to be Yours, but his faith is shipwrecked

And his hope is abandoned and the last time I checked,

He lives in his own power and everything he tries,

I’ve led him to think turns to ash before his eyes.

He is convinced he has failed at every turn,

And I can remind you of this, so sit back and learn.”

 

“You gifted him and blessed him and let him be a pastor,

And when he left that, I made sure he thought it was a disaster.

And he embodies that still, and holds it close to his heart.

And the failure that he keeps encroached on his new start.

And I reminded him daily that he was failing his kids,

And who knows if it was true, but I told him it is.

I told him he failed at his job and he failed with his wife

Soon he believed these things and he started dreading his life.

And he never turned to You, I’d beat him down past all that,

So what do you say for your “servant” who has fallen so flat?”

 

One can imagine the Savior, with pain in His eyes,

Stand at the right hand, and acknowledge the demise

Of hope in the man, and of faith in his heart,

And maybe with a tear, Jesus would start.

 

“These things are all true, and My child is a mess,

But My child he remains, and deceiver, it is you who must reassess.

I loved him before the world was created,

When he hated Me and would have gladly participated

In My crucifixion and torture and death,

I loved him then with My dying breath.

And my child is a wreck and sin has crept in,

And he feels too far and doesn’t know how to begin,

But I am still sovereign, and I will complete,

The work that I began, look, even now he’s on his knees.”

 

And the Word was true, for He cannot lie,

And the moment found the man far from wanting to die.

Instead, he decided to be in the Word,

And to do what he should, though it felt a bit absurd.

And little by little, and day by day,

He read more and more, and to pray and to pray.

One day he realized the weight on his chest,

And the pull on his life was because he was trying his best,

But he was failing at the one thing, the only thing, that mattered,

His relationship with Christ was worn and it was tattered.

 

He got down on his knees, alone in a room,

And cried out to God and begged Him to move.

“You can have it all,” he cried, from the depths of his soul,

“I can’t go on anymore, and there’s nowhere else to go.”

The burden was lifted and the fog dissipated,

The change was immediate and not anticipated.

And nothing else changed but a hope from within

And grace and mercy shone bright to guide him again.

And the man’s not alone, because he let others in,

And confessed and repented of his self-wallowing sin.

He found grace in the Lord, and is learning to show it to himself,

He knows his future is certain, and heaven is his wealth.

 

*This poem is a glimpse into my life over the past few years. I share it for those who may be losing hope even today, and for any that may be thinking of throwing in the towel. If you are angry at God, and His presumed silence, I assure you, I know how you feel. But feelings are not facts. We know this to be true, and the Bible tells us our hearts are deceitful (Jeremiah 17:9). I’d encourage you in these moments to ask yourself one question: “What is my relationship with Christ truly like right now?” If you find that it consists mainly of you frantically trying to bear life’s burdens all while screaming into the void, the problem is infinitely huge and insurmountable by anything you can do alone. 

You may be tempted to try harder. You may be tempted to serve more. You may be tempted to figure it all out before He will hear you. In the end, you may even be tempted to believe, like Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins sang over and again, “And I still believe that I cannot be saved” (“Bullet with Butterfly Wings,” 1995). But He hears you already. The hardest thing to do is also the simplest. Ignore the noise. Grab your Bible. Open it and read it.

For me, it was Bible reading that prompted me to pick up Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress again. One day, I read the following passage: "I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the cross; and there I hope to be rid of all those things, that to this day are an annoyance to me. There they say there is no death, and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best. For, to tell you truth, I love him because I was by him eased of my burden, and I am weary of my inward sickness. I would desire to be where I shall die no more and with the company that shall continually cry - "Holy, Holy, Holy!""

It was quite shocking—although I don’t know why—to realize that I had not felt “eased of my burden” in a long time. I was clinging to the hope of heaven but weighed down by my failure to succeed in bright and joyful Christian living time and again. I had lost hope that I would ever be unburdened in this life. I cannot fully describe the darkness that surrounded my inner life for so long. I thought that I could battle and work my way out of it. I took on everything that life piled on top of me, and I endeavored to excel. But finances failed, children broke bones, and vehicles broke down continuously. The inner turmoil only increased. Finally, I got down on my knees, alone, in our living room, and I said something like, “God, I am beyond weary of my inward sickness. I confess that I have let the most important things slip in my frantic rush to be perfect in every other way. I can’t go on like this, and You know that. You can have every part of my heart and life anew, just please take this burden and put it on the cross where it belongs.”

The difference was night and day, and I don’t know how else to describe it. David asked God to restore the joy of his salvation (Psalm 51:12). I felt that. Paul tells us that it is God who will be faithful to perform His work in us (Philippians 1:6). I claim that, am living it, and am thankful.