Hope for Your Heart: Finding Strength in Life's Storms (24 page)

For centuries the prophet Jonah has held a dubious distinction as one of the foremost biblical characters often pointed to as a
bad
example, a role model
not
to emulate. Anyone who has attended Sunday school or has read a book of famous Bible stories remembers how Jonah went from divine spokesman to discouraged sulker. Instructed by God to travel to the city of Nineveh to warn the wicked people of impending judgment and doom, Jonah heard but did not heed. He said essentially, “Sorry, not me!”

Jonah hopped a ship sailing for Tarshish, which was 180 degrees in the opposite direction from Nineveh. En route a fierce storm arose, and the sailors, fearing for their lives, cast lots and determined that Jonah was to blame. When confronted, Jonah “fessed up” and eventually was tossed overboard, which caused the seas to calm.

Then came the big fish, sometimes called a whale, which swallowed the dog-paddling prophet. Jonah spent three days and three nights inside the stomach of the fish before suffering the indignity (and relief) of being vomited onto dry land. Not surprisingly, when God gave the same orders a second time, Jonah complied.

He went to Nineveh, and lo and behold, the evil people there repented and begged the Lord for mercy. The king issued a proclamation calling for all the people to fast, give up their sinful ways, and plead for God’s grace. Indeed the Lord heard their cries and withheld his judgment.

The ending we want is for Jonah to say, “Hooray! Praise God! My preaching and prophesying worked. All of those formerly evil Ninevites will be spared because of the Lord’s great compassion.” But no. He started grumbling and grousing. He became angry that God did not send down fireballs and lightning bolts from heaven to destroy the wicked people. In fact, he got so distraught that he twice asked God to end his life. “Now, O Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live” (Jonah 4:3; see also v. 8).

How could this man go from winner to whiner so quickly? The short answer is that he was much more interested in revenge than in reconciliation. Historians tell us that at the time of Jonah, the Israelites were very proud of their special status as God’s chosen people. They basked in the glow of the Lord’s favor, and they did not want neighboring countries to experience His blessing.

Jonah, you might say, wore black-filtered glasses. He could see only what was bad and dark and depraved about the people of Nineveh, and he didn’t expect them or want them to turn to God and be reconciled to Him by His grace. He wanted them to be ruined, not redeemed.

Before we judge Jonah too harshly, let’s admit that we might have done the same thing if we were in his sandals. And in fact we often have similar attitudes toward groups or individuals whom we do not feel are deserving of God’s grace and mercy. We want vengeance. We hope for God’s justice to come crashing down on their heads. Sadly, we wish they would “get what’s coming to them.”

As with Jonah, God tells us to go out of our way to show grace, extend an olive branch of peace, and demonstrate divine love. We’re to do so even with those who have hurt us and wronged us. God is a God of justice, and He will deal with people in His time and in His way. That’s His job, while our job is to seek reconciliation and resolution whenever possible.

When you struggle to heal broken relationships, meditate on the following fundamental reasons for hope:

Many people, like Scott, say they feel dead inside after suffering a traumatic offense. Believing that healing is out of the question, they haven’t the strength, or even the desire, to forgive those who wounded them. That is an understandable reaction to great pain. Yet tragically some people remain in this state of shock for years, even for a lifetime.

What’s needed at such times is hope’s reviving assurance that “with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). When we cling to that truth in spite of our pain, we remember there is no wound He can’t heal and no wrong He can’t right. Nothing lies beyond His reach . . . not even death itself.

One day when Jesus was teaching His disciples, a “ruler” approached and knelt before Him. The man explained that his daughter had just died and asked Jesus to “‘come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.’ . . . And when Jesus came to the ruler’s house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, he said, ‘Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.’ And they laughed at him. But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl arose” (Matt. 9:18, 23–25 esv).

Hope doesn’t care who laughs or shouts or threatens. Hope knows that when God takes us by the hand, we
rise
. . . no matter what we’ve suffered. Restored to life by hope in God’s healing power, we may also feel the quickening of forgiveness in our hearts, where only bitterness and revenge had been.

I have spoken at many conferences on the topic of forgiveness and have provided a practical illustration that has helped free people from the bonds of bitterness.

Think of a relationship in your life that is troubled or even “hopelessly” broken. Have you ever said, “I want to forgive, but how can I simply let my offender off the hook?” If these words have passed through your lips or even crossed your mind, be assured that you are not alone. That is precisely why you need to know how to handle “The Hook.”

Make a list of all the reasons you have for holding a grudge against your offender. Don’t be afraid if your reasons sound harsh or petty. Be honest and be thorough.

Now imagine a meat hook around your neck and a burlap bag hanging from the hook in front of you. And imagine that all the pain caused by the offenses against you are dropped into the burlap bag. So now you have hundreds of pounds of heavy rocks . . . rocks of resentment . . . hanging from the hook around your neck.

Ask yourself,
Do I really want to carry all that pain with me for the rest
of my life?

If not, then surrender each offense to God, forgiving the offender and giving the pain to God.

Also take the one who offended you off of your emotional hook and place him or her onto God’s hook. As you do, you will restore your hope that God can help you make the relationship whole again, and you will open yourself up to receiving God’s healing. Here is a prayer that can help you express forgiveness toward your offender.

Lord Jesus, thank You for caring about how much my heart has been hurt.

You know the pain I have felt because of (
list every offense
).

Right now I release all that pain into Your hands.

Thank You, Jesus, for dying on the cross for me and extending Your forgiveness to me.

As an act of my will, I choose to forgive (
name
).

Right now, I move (
name
) off of my emotional hook to Your hook.

I refuse all thoughts of revenge. I trust that in Your time and in Your way You will deal with my offender as You see fit.

And, Lord, thank You for giving me Your power to forgive so I can be set free.

In Your holy name I pray. Amen.

Many of the stories appearing in books, movies, and on television today depict a culture that values a vigilante form of justice. “Good guys” using deadly force, committing their own crimes in the process, deal with the “bad guys.” The message is simple: If you don’t administer your own revenge, no one will. If you can’t
see
justice being done, you have failed, and the offender will “get away with it.”

The psalmist showed us a much better way when he wrote:

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul;

in you I trust, O my God.

Do not let me be put to shame,

nor let my enemies triumph over me.

No one whose hope is in you

will ever be put to shame,

but they will be put to shame

who are treacherous without excuse.

Show me your ways, O Lord,

teach me your paths;

guide me in your truth and teach me,

for you are God my Savior,

and my hope is in you all day long. (Ps. 25:1–5)

The kind of justice we hand out with a vengeance always causes more harm than good. But when we leave such matters to the Lord, we are freed from the fear of being “put to shame” or left at the mercy of our enemies. We put our hope in His ways and in His paths, making authentic forgiveness and reconciliation possible.

Scott told me he couldn’t imagine what purpose his rift with Andrew might have served. To him the pain was pointless and futile. That’s because logic alone is too narrow a lens to allow us to see what God sees. He understands there are things we need to know that we can learn only through hardship. He is willing to let the storms brew and rage in order to prepare us to receive even greater blessings.

In other words, He has a
plan
. “A man’s steps are directed by the Lord” (Prov. 20:24).

After we talked, Scott decided to trust God with all the sticky issues of blame and pride and regret he’d been carrying around for years. He went to Andrew’s wedding, willing to face uncertainty and vulnerability to more pain. After a few awkward moments together, it was obvious that deep down both men wanted to find the road back to a healthy, untangled relationship.

“There’s no question we have more work to do,” Scott told me later. “But just knowing I don’t have to face it alone makes all the difference.”

The precious fruit of our hope in God is the chance to untangle knotted cords of resentment and to restore relationships we thought were lost forever. When we surrender to His healing power, His righteous justice, and His perfect plan,
nothing
is impossible.

On April 2, 2001, the worst accident in fifty years involving an American fishing boat took place on the Bering Sea. The
Arctic Rose
, a 92-foot commercial fishing trawler, went down in frigid waters 205 miles northwest of St. Paul Island. All fifteen crewmen aboard drowned. No radio call for help was sent.

The Coast Guard began an investigation that lasted nearly three years. Eventually the
Arctic Rose
was discovered 428 feet under the sea, but only one body, that of Captain David Rundall, was found.

Based on an underwater video of the wreck, the inquiry came to certain conclusions. Although the exact cause was not definitively determined, a possible reason for the disaster was discovered. The underwater cameras revealed that several of the ship’s doors and hatches had been left open. Since not all the crew members were experienced seamen, more than likely they were not diligent in keeping the ship watertight.

Investigators found that leaving watertight doors open contributed to the sinking of the boat. Waves over twenty feet high struck the boat from the rear and side, sweeping through open doors and hatches. In less than three minutes the boat was flooded beyond recovery, and it sank within eight minutes.
¹

Not all open doors are positive opportunities. Some are doors to disaster. This is certainly true in our lives! One potentially dangerous door we leave open is bitterness. A refusal to shut the door to bitterness can lead to unforgiveness, grievous grudges, and ruined relationships.

Heed the wisdom of the writer of the book of Hebrews: “See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many” (12:15). A seemingly small action, like not shutting the door to grudges, can cause unforgiveness to flood every compartment of your heart and sink your significant relationships. Failing to close those doors can lead to disastrous consequences . . . it can be a matter of life and death.

The Bible leave us with no other option. Colossians 3:13 says, “Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

Simply put, to keep from drowning, batten down the hatches to bitterness, resentment, and hatred. Shut the doors and keep them shut!

Then, finally, you will see for yourself that forgiveness will protect you from a watery grave and give you free sailing.

What is right for you to hope for . . . what is reasonable? And more importantly, what
should
you put your hope in . . . how much do you know?

In
Our Greatest Gift
, Henri Nouwen presents a fascinating parable of hope. He tells about twins, a brother and sister, talking to each other in their mother’s womb.

The sister says to the brother, “I believe there is life after birth.”

Her brother protests vehemently, “No, no, this is all there is. This is a dark and cozy place, and we have nothing else to do but to cling to the cord that feeds us.”

The little girl insists, “There must be something more than this dark place. There must be something else, a place with light where there is freedom to move.”

But she cannot convince her twin brother.

After some silence the sister says hesitantly, “I have something else to say, and I’m afraid you won’t believe that either, but I think there is a mother.”

Her brother becomes furious.

“A mother!” he shouts. “What are you talking about? I have never seen a mother, and neither have you. Who put that idea in your head? As I told you, this place is all we have. Why do you always want more? This is not such a bad place, after all. We have all we need, so let’s be content.”

The sister is quite overwhelmed by her brother’s response and for a while doesn’t dare say anything more. But she can’t let go of her thoughts, and since she has only her twin brother to speak to, she finally says, “Don’t you feel these squeezes every once in a while? They’re quite unpleasant and sometimes even painful.”

“Yes,” he answered. “What’s special about them?”

“Well,” the sister says, “I think these squeezes are there to get us ready for another place, much more beautiful than this, where we will see our mother face-to-face. Don’t you think that’s exciting?”

The brother doesn’t answer. He is fed up with the foolish talk of his sister and feels the best thing is simply to ignore her and hope she will leave him alone.
¹

I love that phrase, “I think these squeezes are there to get us ready for another place, much more beautiful than this.” Many of us do, in fact, feel squeezed and squelched and squashed. Life has a way of tightening its grip to the point of making us feel suffocated and smothered.

What we are being prepared for, of course, is the world beyond this one. We are being made ready for our eternal home in heaven. The Bible clearly presents the promise of heaven and the transition from here to there: “Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.”
²

Looking forward to our eternal home should bring light to even the darkest circumstances. This is one of the greatest sources of comfort and hope we have, as we cling to the promise of an extraordinary life beyond this life. For the Christian, we know that once we are “away from the body,” we will be “at home with the Lord,”
³
the apostle Paul tells us.

When you have an endearing relationship, the thought of losing that loved one can be painful. And then when that loved one is no longer living, sometimes the words spoken aren’t accurate.

When my “you-light-up-my-life” friend Sue breathed her last breath, I heard the words “We’ve lost her.” The truth is, Sue wasn’t
lost
. Sue knew exactly where she was—she had arrived at the port of paradise . . . she was experiencing the splendors of heaven.

But as believers we must always remember, God is moving us along to our final destination—heaven. What we are being prepared for in this life is the next life.

Those who have the blessed hope of heaven know unfalteringly that death is not the end—it is a transition into an eternal beginning. I discovered some years ago a word picture that is wonderful.

Death

I’m standing on the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails

to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She’s an object of beauty and strength

and I stand and watch her until, at length,

she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and the sky

come down to mingle with each other.

And then I hear someone at my side saying,

“There, she’s gone.”

Gone where?

Gone from my sight, that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar

as she was when she left my side.

And just as able to bear her load of living freight

to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in
me
, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

“There, she’s gone;” there are other eyes watching her coming,

and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout,

“Here she comes!” And that is dying.
⁴

We can look ahead with great eagerness to the day when we shall arrive at the shores of heaven and at long last see the Lord Himself . . . our Anchor. To those who have served Him faithfully, He will say, “Well done, good and faithful servant! . . . Come and share your master’s happiness!”
⁵

It is hard to imagine more meaningful words than those, nor could there be a more blessed reward than spending eternity with our Master, who no longer will need to anchor us through the storms of life because in heaven there are no storms
.