This morning, I’m going to begin by openly acknowledging a fact of life. It’s something each one of us knows to be true, something we’ve all learned by personal experience, but which we usually try to avoid admitting publicly. And here it is: life is hard. For everyone. Ever since Adam and Eve took their one-way trip out of Eden, life has been chock full of unpleasant things like disappointment, regret, and heartache; failed dreams and unmet expectations; unfulfilled longings and dashed hopes. As Job put it, "Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble." (Job 14:1, RSV) And he knew what he was talking about. Some days it seems like we’re walking blindfolded through a minefield, never knowing if our next step will set off an explosion, or send us stumbling into a crater.
The causes of life’s difficulties are legion; they include everything from unexpected illnesses to unfaithful husbands. For example, you can spend your whole life scrimping and saving; ordering pizza instead of going to restaurants, spending summer vacations at the in-laws instead of traveling to the beach, only to see the fruits of all your labors disappear overnight. Like the Enron employees whose 401K’s were invested in now-worthless Enron stock. Or the formerly wealthy customers of the Cleveland stock broker who departed Northeast Ohio with a hundred million dollars unaccounted for. And we see stories in the paper every day about ordinary, everyday tragedies -- someone’s home burned down, a lifetime of memories turned to ashes, the fire department blames bad wiring. An auto accident, someone’s teenage son killed, his friend had been drinking. Bankruptcies. Divorces. Obituaries.
Not to mention the kind of day-in, day-out struggles that never make the paper. A child afflicted with a learning disability, or diabetes, or autism. A teenager who changes overnight from a sweet, obedient son or daughter into a sullen, foul-mouthed adolescent. A stalled career. Critical in-laws. Unfriendly neighbors. Stomach flu. Migraines. Termites. Life is filled with difficulties, from devastating tragedies to minor annoyances. We can try to deny it. We can pretend it doesn’t matter. Or, as many people do, we can spend our time and energy trying desperately to somehow make ourselves safe; as if by being smart enough, or careful enough, or strong enough, or rich enough, we could exempt ourselves from pain, insulate ourselves from suffering. But we can’t. It’s not possible. You can eat nothing but organically-grown vegetables, drink only purified water from the snow of the French Alps, run thirty miles a week, and one day the doctor may still find a lump in your breast. You can read every child-raising manual ever written, practice tough love and consistent discipline, carefully screen your children’s friends, and they can still turn their back on your values and break your heart. You can spend decades building a reputation, only to have it destroyed by one malicious rumor. You may think you’ve found the ideal husband, or wife, and still, several months or years after the wedding, you can find out they’ve got serious problems, things you never imagined having to deal with. Drug abuse. Addiction to pornography. Rage. Alcoholism. And it goes on and on. No matter how hard we try, in the end we have to face the fact that we are not gods, but men. We are not in control; we do not have the power to shield ourselves from sorrow and loss. They are an inescapable part of the human condition. As our teacher and master, Jesus Christ forewarned us, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33) The Scottish poet and farmer, Robert Burns, was plowing in his field one day, when he accidentally destroyed a meticulously constructed mouse’s nest. In response, he wrote a poem which contains this familiar line, "The best-laid schemes of mice and men, go oft awry, And leave us nought but grief and pain for promised joy." Consider this story concerning one of the kings of ancient Israel, king Ahab:
"So the king of Israel and Jehoshaphat king of Judah went up to Ramoth Gilead. The king of Israel said to Jehoshaphat, ’I will enter the battle in disguise, but you wear your royal robes.’ So the king of Israel disguised himself and went into battle. Now the king of Aram had ordered his chariot commanders, ’Do not fight with anyone, small or great, except the king of Israel. . . ’ But someone drew his bow at random and hit the king of Israel between the sections of his armor. The king told the chariot driver, ’Wheel around and get me out of the fighting. I’ve been wounded.’ . . . Then at sunset he died." -- 2 Chronicles 18:28-34
Before King Ahab rode into battle, he did everything he could think of to protect himself. He put on a coat of armor. King’s armor, the best money could buy. And then, so as not to be identified, he disguised himself with the clothing of a soldier. But in spite of all these precautions, an enemy archer drew his bow at random and let fly an arrow, which struck him in a chink of his armor, and he died. No matter how elaborate or clever the steps we take to protect ourselves, we still live in a fallen world, where bad things happen to everyone, both kings and commoners. We can build the walls of our fortress as high and wide and strong as we like, but sooner or later, they will crumble.
How do people deal with all this? Well, some use every resource at their command to protect themselves from loss. They swallow fistfuls of vitamins to ward off illness. They put up emotional barriers to keep people from getting too close. They squirrel their money away in IRA’s as a defense against poverty. But none of these tactics can make us truly safe. The illusion of control they give us is just that - an illusion. Listen to the parable that Jesus used to illustrate the foolishness of such a strategy:
. . . "The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop. He thought to himself, ’What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’ "Then he said, `This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I’ll say to myself, "You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry."’ "But God said to him, `You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’ "This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God." -- Luke 12:16-21
The rich man thought he had taken care of everything. Every contingency had been provided for. He was set for life. All he had to do was kick back and enjoy himself. But he forgot one crucial fact. He wasn’t in control; God was. And God had other plans. Now, you might object that the rich man suffered tragedy because he was ungodly. If a person lives a life of obedience and righteousness, won’t that will guarantee freedom from tragedy? No. Consider Job. The Bible tells us that, "This man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil. (Job 1:1) And yet, what happened? God in his wisdom and sovereignty decided that Job should suffer. In a short time, His sons and daughters were killed; his wealth was lost to thieves; his reputation was ruined [after all, his friends thought, why would God afflict someone so deeply unless they were guilty of some hidden sin?], and his health deteriorated, to the point that he was left alone and penniless, sitting on an ash heap, scraping his boils to keep them from becoming infested with maggots. Godliness is no guarantee of a smooth, trouble-free life. In fact, often it’s the affliction and suffering that makes us godly.
How then, do people respond when their best efforts fail and trouble invades their lives, unbidden and unwelcome? They try to dull the pain. They seek refuge in alcohol. Or drugs. Or pornography. Or food. Or television. Or sports. Or obsessive exercise. Or hobbies. Or a hundred other things. And although these give temporary relief, in the end they fall short, they betray anyone who depends on them. Because relying on anyone or anything other than God to satisfy our deepest needs is making that thing into a false god, an idol. And God will not tolerate that. He has so designed us that we can only find ultimate satisfaction and fulfillment in Him.
You’ve done this; so have I. All of us, at one time or another, have tried to find safety and security in the things of this world. All of us have tried to find a place of refuge outside of God. Perhaps some of you even now are looking somewhere else for peace and security. If so, then I’d like to invite you this morning to take the path of wisdom, to place your hope and confidence in the only One who is truly worthy of our trust. He alone can make us secure. Not by protecting all the things we value, but by giving us instead the things which are truly valuable, things which cannot be lost or stolen. Not by changing our circumstances, but by giving us joy and peace in the midst of every circumstance. Not by making us immune to disease and death, but rather giving us the hope and promise of resurrection and eternal life, where disease and death will be forever unknown. God gives to those who trust in Him His assurance, his promise, that his love for us will never fail, that he will never leave us or forsake us, and that every trial he allows into our lives will have a good and wise purpose.
This is the path of true wisdom: trusting God. As we read in the prophet Jeremiah: "This is what the LORD says: "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, but let him who boasts boast about this: that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight," declares the LORD." -- Jeremiah 9:23-24
True wisdom, and strength, and wealth come from knowing God. He is our refuge, our security, our safety. No other person or institution, no other power, but God alone. He is the one to whom we must flee, the one we must rely on.
"The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you." -- Psalm 9:9-10
". . . The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold." -- Psalm 18:1-2
Not only is God our refuge and our place of safety; He is also the source of our comfort and strength.
"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows."
-- 2 Corinthians 1:3-5
Because of this, the apostle Paul can pray with complete confidence, "May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word." -- 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17
So if all that is true; if God really is our safety, and security, our refuge and our comfort, our source of encouragement and strength; then we have a critical question to answer. How do we come to experience all these wonderful things? How do we experience peace in the midst of distressing and painful circumstances? How do we experience joy in the face of loss and sorrow? How do we experience hope when life seems to be coming apart at the seams? Is there something we can do to lay hold of the riches we have in Christ? Yes, there is. We can pray. In fact, we must pray, because that’s the only way to enjoy all these blessings. They’re available to us, they belong to us as our inheritance through Christ, but we have to take possession of them. And the way we do that is through prayer. Then, God’s comfort, as Paul says, will "overflow" in our lives; it will be more than sufficient to quiet our hearts and calm our anxious thoughts, more than adequate to remove our fears and give us peace.
Not only this, but prayer is the only way that our difficulties and troubles can accomplish in us the purpose for which God sent them. Without prayer, the best we can hope for is to simply endure our troubles, to somehow survive them. But with prayer, they become tools in the hand of God to refine our character, to make us more like Christ, to increase our usefulness, to deepen our capacity for joy. As the Christian writer E.M. Bounds puts it,
"Prayer in the time of trouble tends to bring the spirit into perfect subjection to the will of God, to cause the will to be conformed to God’s will, and saves [us] from all murmurings over our lot, and delivers from everything like a rebellious heart or a spirit critical of the Lord. Prayer sanctifies trouble to our highest good. Prayer so prepares the heart that it softens under the disciplining hand of God. . . Prayer permits God’s servant, trouble, to accomplish its mission in us, with us, and for us."
What do the Scriptures tell us to do when troubles overtake us? They tell us to pray.
God says, "[C]all upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me." -- Psalm 50:15
James writes, "Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray." -- James 5:16
And Paul the apostle instructs us, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." -- Philippians 4:6-7
What does this last passage tell us? "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything . . . present your requests to God." Now, what things do we tend to get anxious about? Well, the big things, of course. Our health. Our families. But anyone who prays at all probably already prays in crisis situations -- when someone they love is in the ICU, or when their children are in trouble, or when their marriage is on the rocks. When the stakes are highest, even non-religious people instinctively go to God for help. As the saying goes, "there are no atheists in foxholes."
But what about the so-called small stuff? Your son gets new glasses, and he’s worried about how the kids at school will react. Your daughter is having trouble making friends. Your brother-in-law wants to borrow five hundred dollars, and if you say "no", it will create a family conflict. The car needs a new muffler. Your manager wants you to work more overtime, but your family wants you home in time for supper. Your husband seems irritable lately. Your son’s grades are slipping. Your parents are in ill health. I could go on and on, because concerns like these are the stuff of everyday life. They fill our thoughts. And yet, too often we don’t even consider taking them to God in prayer. "It’s not that important," we say, or "I’ll figure it out somehow". But God doesn’t want us to figure it out on our own. He wants us to bring it to Him. What did he say? "In everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Paul says the same thing in Ephesians: "And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. (Ephesians 6:18)
Why is this important? Why does God want us to go to Him with whatever is on our mind, with even our "minor" cares and worries? Because in the affect they have on our attitude, they’re not minor at all. Day by day, little by little, they nibble away at our joy. They undermine our peace. Until eventually, our outlook on life becomes, not one of confidence in God, but rather one of fear and resentment. Grumbling. Complaining. The opposite faith and trust. Often, it’s not so much the great tragedies of life that threaten our faith, but the daily grind of cares and worries, the minor irritations and small sufferings which accumulate over time and poison our attitude. And so we must take these daily irritations to the Lord in prayer. As Peter writes, "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7). All your anxiety. God never intended for you to shoulder your burdens alone, not even the small ones. So go to him in prayer and simply turn them over. You won’t miss them, I promise.
If we do this, what are we promised? That "the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." I like the way the New Living Translation puts it: "If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand." Now, there are a couple of things for us to note about this promise of peace. First, that it’s beyond our understanding. We can’t explain it. We can’t grasp how it could be true that all we have to do is express our concerns to God, and the result will be his glorious peace washing over our soul. We can stew over something, turning it over and over in our mind, for hours. We can talk about it with all our friends. We can discuss it with the pastor, or with a counselor. And still it may trouble our minds. Yet, when we finally take it to God in prayer, this verse says that we will experience peace. How does that work, we want to know. Talking with everyone else didn’t help. And when we stop praying, we re-enter the same world we just left. Our circumstances haven’t changed. So why should we feel better? I don’t know. It’s a mystery. We don’t need to understand it, we just need to do it. And God promises his peace in return.
The second thing to note about this promise is the word "guard". I like the idea of God’s peace standing guard over my heart and mind; protecting my thoughts and my emotions. I have an image of a soldier, a marine guard, standing at the entrance of an army base in Kandahar, armed with a rifle. He’s challenging any suspicious-looking person who tries to get in. "Halt! Who goes there?" Some anxious thought comes along and tries to get in, the guards waves his gun and tells it to take a hike. Some worry, some fear tries to climb over the fence, and the guard fires off a warning shot and sets it to flight. The idea here is that when God’s peace is standing watch, those destructive influences can’t afflict us, can’t torment us, can’t rob us of our peace. As Isaiah 26:3 says, "You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you."
Let me make one more point. What we’re talking about here is not just feeling better. Less anxious, less worried, less fearful. That’s part of it, of course, and that’s important. But the blessing which the Holy Spirit gives us when we bring our concerns to God also includes the strengthening of our faith. It includes perseverance, and patience, and tenacity. It involves the ability to continue obeying and following God, rather then becoming discouraged and giving up. Anybody listen to the radio show "Prairie Home Companion"? On "Prairie Home Companion," with Garrison Keillor, they frequently advertise a product called Powdermilk Biscuits. "Powdermilk Biscuits, heavens they’re tasty! You can find them in your grocers, in the big blue box with the stains that indicate freshness. Powdermilk Biscuits: they give shy people the courage to do what needs to be done." Through prayer, the Holy Spirit gives us the courage to do what needs to be done, even in the midst of circumstances that make our hearts so heavy that we want to give up. Prayer gives us the power to bear up under affliction, instead of giving up. It enables us to honor God with our faith and obedience, even when no one would blame us for just crawling into a corner and turning our back on the whole mess. And so, when God blesses us with peace and fortitude in response to prayer, it’s not only for our sake, but also for the sake of his glory. A faith that shines in affliction is a faith that greatly honors God.
In closing, I’d like to appeal first to those of you who have never placed your trust in Christ. You’ve never confessed your guilt, never asked for his forgiveness, never trusted in his death on the cross as the payment for your sins. And so you’re trying to deal with all the sorrows and difficulties of life on your own. It’s exhausting. It’s discouraging. And it’s not the way God intended for us to live. Won’t you come to Christ today, receive him as your Lord and Savior, and experience the joy and peace that only He can bring?
And some of you may have trusted in Christ, but you’re still trying to "go it alone". You’re still trying to work things out on your own, without getting God involved. Worry, and fear, and anxiety are your frequent companions. And I urge you also, to take your concerns to the Lord in prayer. How foolish, how unnecessary it is, for us to struggle and suffer under the weight of our cares, when Christ has offered to lighten our load, and even to take it completely upon Himself! Listen again to the words of this old hymn, written by a man named Joseph Scriven, a man who knew what it was to suffer loss:
What a Friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer! O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.
Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere? We should never be discouraged - Take it to the Lord in prayer. Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share? Jesus knows our every weakness - Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care? Precious Savior, still our refuge - Take it to the Lord in prayer. Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? Take it to the Lord in prayer; in His arms He’ll take and shield thee - Thou wilt find a solace there.
Do you know that friend? Are you resting in his love? Are you taking your cares, both great and small, to him? Won’t you do that today? Let’s stand and sing that song together, in closing.
(For an .rtf file of this and other sermons, see www.journeychurchonline.org/messages.htm)
