Overcoming Discouragement

The Devil’s Favorite Tool

There’s an old story told by preachers long before microphones and livestreams.

It goes like this:

One day the devil decided to have a garage sale. He laid out all his tools on a table—hatred, envy, jealousy, deceit, lust, pride, and lying. Each one was marked with a price tag. But over in the corner was one tool—well-worn, smooth from use, and priced far higher than any of the rest. Someone asked, “What’s that one?”

“That,” said the devil, “is discouragement. It’s the most useful tool I own. When I can’t make people sin, I can make them give up. And once they give up, I can do anything I please.”

That story isn’t found in the Bible, but it might as well be. Because if you’ve lived long enough, you know how sharp that tool can feel.

Discouragement drains color from your days. It doesn’t just attack your strength; it attacks your hope.

Some of you came here today smiling, shaking hands, singing the hymns—but inside you’re running on fumes. Maybe it’s finances. Maybe it’s a relationship that’s slowly falling apart. Maybe it’s the quiet sense that you’ve prayed and worked and tried, and nothing’s changing.

I want you to know something right at the start: you are not the first person God has loved who has felt that way.

---

Everyone Gets Tired

Even the best people in Scripture faced it.

Moses got tired of leading.

David wrote psalms in tears.

Jeremiah wanted to quit preaching.

Paul admitted he “despaired of life itself.”

And Elijah, the prophet who called down fire from heaven, ended up under a broom tree praying that he might die.

Let’s pause on Elijah for a moment.

1 Kings 19 paints one of the rawest pictures in the Bible.

Right after the high of Mount Carmel—fire falling, idols shattered, a national revival—Elijah collapses. Jezebel threatens him, and the mighty prophet runs. He ends up in the desert, sits under a tree, and prays, “It is enough, Lord. Take my life.”

Think about that: the same man who faced down hundreds of false prophets now says, “I’m done.”

God doesn’t lecture him. God lets him sleep. Then He wakes him with food, twice, and sends him on.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a nap and eat a good meal.

But what happens next matters most. Elijah climbs Mount Horeb and pours out his heart. God listens. Then He says, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And what comes?

A wind, an earthquake, a fire—but God isn’t in them. Finally, a still small voice.

That’s how discouragement is healed—not by noise and hype, but by a quiet word from God reminding us, “You’re not finished yet. I still have purpose for you.”

---

The Three Roads of Discouragement

When discouragement hits, we usually take one of three roads.

1. We give in.

2. We deny it.

3. We face it with faith.

Let’s walk those roads one by one.

---

1. Give In

Some of us simply collapse. Like Elijah, we run to the wilderness and sit down under the tree of exhaustion. We stop answering calls. We stop expecting good things. We let our hearts whisper, “It’s over.”

Maybe it’s because something you built fell apart. Maybe a prayer you prayed came back with silence. Maybe you look around at the world—wars, corruption, hypocrisy—and you wonder, “What’s the point?”

Friends, giving in always feels easier than standing up. But when you give in, you surrender your influence, your joy, and the very story God is writing through your life.

Elijah thought he was the last faithful one left in Israel. God gently corrected him—there were still seven thousand who had not bowed to Baal. You are never as alone as you think you are.

If you’re tempted to give in, remember this: God does some of His best work with people who’ve hit bottom. That’s where His strength becomes yours.

---

2. Deny It

The second road is denial. It’s the “I’m fine” road.

We slap on a grin, post another verse online, tell ourselves to “stay positive.” But pretending to be strong doesn’t make you strong.

Peter tried that.

On the night of Jesus’ arrest, he declared, “Even if all fall away, I will not.” But within hours, he was cursing and denying that he even knew Jesus. When the rooster crowed, the Bible says he went out and wept bitterly.

There’s freedom in those two words—wept bitterly. It means he finally faced himself. He stopped pretending. And that’s when restoration began.

Jesus met Peter again by a charcoal fire—the same setting where the denial happened—and asked three times, “Do you love Me?” He didn’t shame him; He re-commissioned him. “Feed My sheep.”