Category — Suffering

Sex, Not Words

Hers was the first cabin on the right down the most desperate street I have ever walked. Like her neighbors, she hurried onto her “porch” at the sound of men’s voices. And, like her neighbors, the hard eyes in her young face stared disappointment when she recognized our missionaries.

In the few weeks she had occupied her shack of a bungalow on this lonely island in a forgotten corner of Lake Victoria, she had learned from her “coworkers” that these missionaries only wanted to talk. She didn’t come here to make conversation with men. This was a street where lonely fishermen with fast money came to pay for sex, not for words.

Just One More Whore

As our friends who had dedicated their lives to the hopeless citizens of these island fishing villages described the deep injustice of the place, she reached back into her one-bed-room for something—a straw broom. Slow mechanical strokes brushed cigarette butts, candy wrappers, and small wads of filth into the street. She never looked up; never spoke. Just one more whore living on a street of whores until the aids virus erases her from the scene.

And then, in the cruel rhythm of life on this exploited frontier, her brutalized replacement will take up housekeeping.

When we came to the end of the street, I wondered aloud for our group, “Why was she sweeping?”

Someone’s Little Girl

On the long boat ride back to our missionary’s home in Kahunda, Tanzania on the southern shore of Lake Victoria, I thought about when and where the little girl-turned prostitute learned to sweep.

Who taught her? Was it her mother, her grandmother?

What were they imagining for her when her little hands grasped the handle for the first time?

What pictures came to her little mind as she swept the dirt floor of the little house she grew up in?

What ordinary innocent dreams of husband, home, and children?

Hate Sin; Beg God

I hated sin more than ever before, begged God for her soul, and asked Him to please break the cycle of generational sin in that evil place.

And I thanked God for the privilege of sending Andy and Margaret Anderson to her world.

“But when He saw the multitudes, He was moved with compassion for them, because they were weary and scattered, like sheep having no shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, ‘The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest’” (Matthew 9:36-38).

There are a few places Judy and I go to that inspire, comfort, encourage, and heal our souls when life is hard. This is one of our favorites: Cannon Beach, Oregon.

We’ve walked that beach during some of life’s darkest days. Hand in hand we’ve cried, rejoiced, begged God for relief as we processed my diagnosis with this chronic disease, some of our children’s worst challenges and hurts, our son’s two tours in the war zone, and the many, many tests and trials of ministry.

The breathtaking landscape of that beautiful place helps in ways that I can’t really explain.

In the same way, the Apostle Peter begins his first letter with a breathtaking landscape to inspire, encourage, comfort, and heal the hearts of his readers.

First Peter is a hard book full of hard words written to Christians going through hard times.

His first paragraph takes believers to a place with a breathtaking view—a scenic theological landscape. It’s a place of hope, the first hope that came to our heart when we received God’s love by believing in Jesus—a hope of deliverance, hope for the future, hope of heaven and all we will share with God in eternity.

The hope of our so great salvation.

I don’t know what’s hard about your life today. But I do know that if you let Jesus take you by the hand and lead you to the spectacular view of what He did for you, it will comfort your heart.

Open your Bible to 1 Peter 1:3-12, and imagine Jesus saying, “There it is. Take it all in. It’s all for you. I did this just for you. On your worst day, this is still true of you. I love you. I may not fix what hurts in your life right now, but even if I don’t, all of this is yours. My Father is preserving it in heaven for you right now.”

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead (1 Peter 1:3).

I’m fascinated by Luke’s account of Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem on Monday, just four days before His crucifixion. As the crowd worshiped Him as a Moses-like liberator who would end their slavery to Rome and lead them to the good life in their land flowing with milk and honey, Jesus burst into tears (Luke 19:28-44).

We know that the Lord’s grief had to do with the coming destruction of Jerusalem (43-44), but it also had to do with the shallow peace they clamored after.

Jesus could see through the festive atmosphere of the Passover that energized the mass hysteria. He could see into their hearts.

He knew every unkind and hurtful word and act that had wounded every heart.

He knew every unkind and hurtful word or act that they had uttered or committed that had wounded the hearts of others.

He knew their fears and doubts, their addictions and cover-ups, every personal and family secret, every strained relationship, every insecurity, every lie about themselves, every failure and every regret.

Because of that, He refused to give them what they wanted. He was going to give them what they needed—liberation from the penalty and power of sin.

It seemed so plain to me that if Jesus had given them everything they wanted—freedom from Rome, removed all the hurtful people from their lives, a booming economy, better houses, better crops, more leisure time, no more fear of invading troops, and absolute earthly happiness, they would still be the same old messed up people relating to the same old messed up people in the same old messed up world.

What didn’t seem so plain to me until I started journaling about this core message—Jesus gives us what we need, not what we want—was how much I resemble the fickle crowds.

I began to write down what I wanted Jesus to do. I filled up almost two pages in my journal. And guess what? If Jesus changed all the things that preoccupy my prayers, I’d still be the same old Ed!

Seems that what I need most is for the Lord to change me, not my circumstances.

But He already has. Romans 6 tells me that I have been set free from the power of sin.

Maybe I should concentrate my prayers on asking the Lord to show me how to live out of who I am in Him, rather than asking Him to improve my messed up world.

For sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are under law but under grace (Romans 6:14).

Nothing excites me more than to hear someone say that they want to live all-out for the Lord Jesus. My pastoral heart moves toward them and Judy and I start pouring our lives into them.

There’s always some initial excitement and a lot of marvelous reports concerning God’s powerful movement in everyday life.

“You wouldn’t believe what’s happening at work. I’ve only been praying for this guy for two days. Out of nowhere he said, ‘Tell me about your church.’”

“We had no idea how we would survive if we gave what we felt God was telling us to give to the church. But we did it. The next day my boss came in to tell me that she was so pleased with my work that he had decided to give me a promotion.”

Even as the reports bubble out I’m always praying for them because I know what’s coming.

God is going to test their faith.

They’ve been living at that precipice of the Christian life that God insists upon if we want to experience His power. The precipice of radical trust, that place we live where we know that if He doesn’t show up, we’re sunk.

Some shrink back from that radical edge of life to the safety of their comfort zone, and it’s tragic. Soon they will be wondering what happened, why their Christian life isn’t as exhilarating as it use to be.

Others will keep on trusting Him, pass the test, and move on to the live they always wanted, the life Jesus wanted them to live and their redeemed heart longs for.

How about you? Is God asking you to trust Him for something big? Something that intimidates you? Something that doesn’t make sense to your friends? Something that will make you look stupid if He doesn’t show up?

Do it!

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).

God spoke to me in one of my most desperate moments. Everyone, including the best doctors in SoCal, was pretty sure I wouldn’t make it. My skin would not stay on my body, my kidneys had failed, and now my liver. Thousands of dollars of cutting edge drugs were pumping through a PICC line directly into my heart.

I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stay awake, couldn’t eat, and all bodily functions had stopped.

When I was aware of the world around me, all I could do was cry.

“So this is it,” I remember saying to the Lord at 2:00 in the morning from my lonely hospital room. “So this is how I’m going to leave this earth, hooked up to beeping machines and incapable of even praying much.”

And then the Lord said, “Ed, you’re as alive today as anybody!”

It was a critical moment, a tipping point in my life. That’s all He said, but His Spirit continued to bring thoughts of hope to my mind.

“That’s right, and as long as I’m here, I might as well serve Jesus with all my heart. Tomorrow someone who’s perfectly healthy is going to die in an accident, someone else is going to drop dead from a heart attack. All over this city people will wake up in the morning not knowing that this is their last day. And who knows, I may even be here tomorrow, and the next, and the next…”

That was almost ten years ago. Yesterday I turned sixty.

The next day turned into the next week, the next month, and the next year. And I’m still as alive today as anyone.

I can’t know what fears or struggles may be causing you to lose hope in tomorrow, but I do know this: Jesus promised to take care of tomorrow, all the assignments that are your responsibility are for today.

So serve Him with all your might!

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Jesus Christ, Matthew 6:34