Ramblings: November 2021

Thursday, November 25, 2021

But If Not: Part I

Even if you didn’t grow up in Sunday school you’ve probably heard some version of the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They were the three young Hebrews who stood up to the infamous Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar and refused to bow down before his golden idol despite threat of execution. Anyone who did not bow down and worship the massive statue was to be thrown into the fiery furnace at once, an apt manifestation of the powerful king’s wrath.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were captives in a foreign land, essentially helpless, defenseless, but in a crowd of thousands of their countrymen cowering with faces to the ground, these three stood tall and fearless. They were ridiculously bold, outrageously audacious as they declared “We are not careful to answer, you, O King” (Daniel 3:16 KJV) paraphrase: “We don’t have to explain ourselves to you.” Boldly and baldly they stated they would not bow down to Nebuchadnezzar’s idol no matter what he threatened or did to them.

“Our God, whom we serve, is able to deliver us from the fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of thine hand, O King,” they said (Daniel 3:17). They were unflinching before this world-famous king whose conquering armies had just decimated their homeland and carted their people off as slaves, whose extravagant hanging gardens were among the wonders of the ancient world, and whose empire was the most powerful of its day.

In their devotion to God, the God of their homeland and their ancestors, the God who assured their identity as more than slaves in a foreign land, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego scorned the king’s threats. Their utter lack of intimidation mocked Nebuchadnezzar’s threat of terrible death, their being burnt alive in his dreadful fiery furnace. Their stance belittled him and his weapon into a petulant child with a campfire which so enraged the tyrant that he ordered the furnace be stoked hotter than ever.

Still, the men to be chained and tossed into this inferno were unafraid. Still, they were certain of their deliverance. “Our God is able to deliver us from the fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of thine hand, O King. But if not, be it known to thee, O King, we still will not bow down” (Daniel 3:17-18).

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego knew there were only two possible outcomes: either God would take them out of the furnace and King Nebuchadnezzar would be amazed, or they would die and go to be with God where they would be even more amazed in His presence. Either way, they would win. Either way, they would be delivered. Either way, they had nothing to fear for God was on their side.

Neither King Nebuchadnezzar nor his guards understood the peace these men had as they stood without trembling before such a ruthless conqueror, as they were sentenced to death, as they were bound tightly from head to foot and tossed into a furnace burning so furiously the guards nearest the furnace were themselves consumed by the flames.

Neither the king nor his guards believed in the God of the Hebrews. They thought a god who would let his people be conquered either could not or would not bother to then save three men from burning to death. Because surely a god of any real supremacy or goodness would not allow his servants to be placed in such a position at all. Surely a god who loved and cared for his people, who had the power to give life and heal sickness and smite the wicked would protect those people from invaders, would simply destroy their enemies utterly. That’s what a good god would do, right?

That’s what we want a good god to do—protect us from harm and give us all we ask for. Keep us from situations where we must choose between standing up and execution. Keep us from the furnace. From the lions’ den. From the cistern. From prison. From flogging. From eviction. From betrayal. From rape. From slavery. From being widowed or orphaned. From miscarriages or the loss of a child. From sickness, hunger, depression, and loneliness.

A good god would not let these things happen. Would not let these sufferings afflict his children. Would not let a good man die torturously on a cross for crimes he didn’t commit. From the midst of our hurt we might think so. From the cross, the pit, the furnace, from the sickbed, the graveside, the jailcell, we might think there is no good god.

But even when blind with pain, remember that there is One Good God. Every thought He has for us is good. He is incapable of evil thoughts. And although He may allow suffering in our lives, He allows it to come to pass. It will not stay; it will not thwart our destiny.

“For I know the thoughts that I think of you saith the LORD, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11).

God knows exactly when this particular trouble crushing you will end, when this particular suffering will conclude and you will be through it. He has everything planned out, meticulously, scrupulously, astoundingly detailed like a tapestry woven with a thousand colored threads. In the middle of the mess of our misery and befuddlement we can only see the tangle of overlapping strands, dangling ends, and awkward knots. God, the Creator, can see the whole completed masterpiece as a sumptuous wall-hanging across the room: every thread perfectly fitted to form an elaborate, gorgeous image.

God has a plan. God has had a Plan since the Beginning, and the most important part of the Plan has already happened. The pivotal moment occurred when the War for the World was won, long ago, through suffering. Like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, if we believe in the Good God, we know we will be delivered. We can say with absolute audacious certainty that we need not fear that fiery furnace, or the lions’ den, or the prison cell, or the hospital room, unemployment, eviction, or gangsters. We know that we Win either way, whether by God stepping in and working a visible miracle for the world to see, like eradicating the cancer or dropping an envelope of cash in the mailbox; or by God taking us out of the world and unto Himself in Heaven. We will celebrate either way: joyously here on Earth or far more abundantly when we meet again in Heaven. That is the assurance of the Christian, the person who believes in Jesus Christ as Savior.

It’s not an easy assurance. Life is hard for us broken people in this broken world dominated by Satan, the Enemy, whose only goal is our destruction. Every evil is his weapon: from depression to jealousy to arthritis to pornography to gossip to addiction to fear. Division is his delight. He’s cunning and conniving and feeds us lies like candy. Convincing people of his nonexistence has been his greatest trick, in the words of Charles Baudelaire: “la plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu’il n’existe pas!” Le joueur Généreux/The Generous Gambler 1864. Do not underestimate Satan.

Thank God, Satan constantly underestimates God.

As Pastor Raymond Woodward says, “While the devil is feverishly playing checkers God is playing chess, and He’s got him outwitted, outgunned, outmaneuvered, and out-moved every single time!”

God sees not merely several steps ahead but to the very end of the game, even beyond the game to the other side, to the victory awaiting us. He sees us in our suffering and grieves with us in our pain, but He does not despair for He knows what Good is waiting beyond the trial. God Himself shapes that coming Good, for as He promised, He considers us with “thoughts of peace” and deliberately designed that “expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11). While Satan may be playing games with our days, feverishly leaping checkers and piling sorrows upon miseries, all his schemes cannot detract from God’s Grand Master Plans for our lives.

Our trials are allowed by God—and they are limited by God. No matter the trial, it cannot thwart God’s purpose. Not only so, but the trial brings about God’s purpose.

Trials are allowed by God. Trials are limited by God. Trials cannot thwart God’s purpose. Trials bring about God’s purpose.

The prophet Jeremiah learned this even after he’d watched his city burn and his people carried off in chains. After he’d endured the worst day of his life, this long-suffering man of God took up his pen once again and wrote that God’s mercies were new every morning and His compassions were unfailing. “Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed…great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23).

Job maintained this even after he’d lost everything: his lands, wealth, children, health, even the love of his wife. With empty, boil-scarred hands, he sat in the dust and praised God. “Though he slay me, yet I will hope in him…Indeed this will turn out for my deliverance” (Job 13:15-16).

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were sure of this as they stood up before a tyrant king and his guards, as they scorned his fiery furnace. They declared their allegiance to their God even unto death.

Jesus’ assurance of this, and his shared great love for humanity, caused him to stand guilty for crimes he didn’t commit, to volunteer as tribute for torturous punishment, to sacrifice himself in place of the real agitators and convicts. He bared his back to flogging, then heaved a heavy cross upon his back and carried it through the streets and up a hill, bearing the shame of that public parade, the crowds who knew only the worst offenders warranted crosses, laid himself down naked before all those scoffers, opened his hands to the soldiers who hammered nails through them, watched with gentle eyes as he was heaved upward, the ugliest of bloody spectacles. His only response to the jeers and accusations, the temptation to call ten thousand angels to his rescue, was to ask forgiveness for his executioners, who had already accepted the blame for his blood on themselves and their children.

Then Jesus died, after hours of agony, and the jubilant mood of his human enemies was nothing compared to the ebullience of Satan’s assured victory.

“I’ve got you this time!” was probably what the devil was crowing, toasting himself and boasting his brilliance and permanent ownership of the Earth and all wretched souls therein.

To everyone watching, indeed, God’s Plan seemed a failure. Jesus’ disciples, despite his forewarnings, couldn’t believe he had died. His eleven closest followers were as lost and bereaved as the rest of his friends, grieving and terrified that they would be next on the Roman execution list. So many had seen Jesus as the One God had promised: someone for whom long ago Job, Jeremiah, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had hoped. With his death, they were devastated, wondering if God really would ever deliver them. Perhaps they’d better bow down to the system, bend down to the golden idol of the Romans, and simply forget their faith and their convictions.

That’s how it feels sometimes.

We’d be better off giving in. We’d be better off avoiding all this suffering. Surely life would be better without sickness, break-ups, theft, corruption, late fees, crime and punishment? If we had the power of a good god, we’d make better choices—we would not allow all of this hurt. I’ve certainly thought this way, certainly asserted sometimes to God that “it’s just not fair” and “enough is enough!” and wondered why He doesn’t simply STOP the trauma. Pull us out of the furnace. Pull us out of COVID-19, out of the clutches of gangsters and kidnappers, out of poverty and famine.

God’s response is always gentle. Rather than smite me or knock me back with a thunder blast, the LORD of all Creation speaks kindly to me, as a loving Father. No matter how many times I make the same mistake or repeat the same complaints, He is patient. God’s mercies are new and His compassion unfailing.

Here, He speaks through the wise words of writer Kimberly Henderson:

“I would have pulled Joseph out. Out of that pit. Out of that prison. Out of that pain. And I would have cheated nations out of the one God would use to deliver them from famine.

I would have pulled David out. Out of Saul’s spear-throwing presence. Out of the caves he hid away in. Out of the pain of rejection. And I would have cheated Israel out of a God-hearted king.

I would have pulled Esther out. Out of being snatched from her only family. Out of being placed in a position she never asked for. Out of the path of a vicious, power-hungry foe. And I would have cheated a people out of the woman God would use to save their very lives.

And I would have pulled Jesus off. Off of the cross. Off of the road that led to suffering and pain. Off of the path that would mean nakedness and beatings, nails and thorns. And I would have cheated the entire world out of a Savior. Out of salvation. Out of an eternity filled with no more suffering and no more pain.

And oh friend. I want to pull you out. I want to change your path. I want to stop your pain. But right now I know I would be wrong. I would be out of line. I would be cheating you and cheating the world out of so much good. Because God knows. He knows the good this pain will produce.

He knows the beauty this hard will grow. He’s watching over you and keeping you even in the midst of this. And He’s promising you that you can trust Him. Even when it all feels like more than you can bear.

So instead of trying to pull you out, I’m lifting you up. I’m kneeling before the Father and I’m asking Him to give you strength. To give you hope. I’m asking Him to protect you and to move you when the time is right. I’m asking Him to help you stay prayerful and discerning. I’m asking Him how I can best love you and be a help to you. And I’m believing He’s going to use your life in powerful and beautiful ways. Ways that will leave your heart grateful and humbly thankful for this road you’ve been on."

Kimberly D. Henderson, 2017 ©

Works Cited

· Henderson, Kimberly D. “When You Feel Painfully and Hopelessly Stuck in a Season You Don’t Want to Be In.” WordPress, 23 Sept. 2020, https://kdhenderson.wordpress.com/2020/09/23/when-you-feel-painfully-and-hopelessly-stuck-in-a-season-you-dont-want-to-be-in/?blogsub=confirming#subscribe-blog. Accessed 21 Nov. 2021.

· KB. “Heart Song.” Weight & Glory, Reach Records.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2daj3G0LVKY

· King James Version. Palgrave Macmillan, 2003.

· King, Martin Luther. “But If Not.” YouTube. 5 Nov. 1967, Atlanta, Ebenezer Baptist Church, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOjpaIO2seY. Accessed 21 Nov. 2021.

· Lagazettedesydney. “A Very Actual Old French Poem: The Generous Gambler.” 1864, https://lagazettedesydney.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/a-very-actual-old-french-poem-the-generous-gambler/. Accessed 24 Nov. 2021.

· MercyMe. “Even If.” Lifer, The Orchard Music, Nashville, Tennessee.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6fA35Ved-Y

· Woodward, Raymond. “But If Not.” YouTube. 1 Aug. 2021, Capital Community Church, Capital Community Church, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORmSm_VdkEg. Accessed 21 Nov. 2021. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORmSm_VdkEg

But If Not: Part II

“I would have pulled Joseph out. Out of that pit. Out of that prison. Out of that pain. And I would have cheated nations out of the one God would use to deliver them from famine.

"I would have pulled David out. Out of Saul’s spear-throwing presence. Out of the caves he hid away in. Out of the pain of rejection. And I would have cheated Israel out of a God-hearted king.

Kimberly D. Henderson, 2017 ©

Ms. Henderson noted with the reposting (2020) of her poem that it was the most shared piece of writing she had ever released to social media. My thanks to God for so inspiring her, and my thanks to Ms. Henderson for sharing her inspired words with us. Perhaps obviously, my response was to share what I would have done, who I would have saved. The following five names are all loved ones from Christian Academy of Petit Goave, Haiti, who died between June 2016 and October 2021. Four of them are children.

I would have pulled Angelo out. Out of the basin where he drowned. And I would have robbed him of Heaven, of the love of Jesus rather than the unsympathetic thumb of his matant and years of restavek servitude. I would have robbed us of the increased awareness of time, the surge of urgency to love and work, to treasure and hold close each child God bestowed on us in each moment we had, for we couldn’t know if that would be the last.

I would have healed Joozenaïka. Cured her of the fever and diarrhea drying out her frail body. Restored her to health and returned her whole and smiling to her joyous parents, their beautiful only child. And I would have robbed CAP of the medical fund begun in her honor, the collection dedicated to prevent any such tragedy from occurring again. I would have robbed partners of the awareness of this dire need to buffer for the easily treatable: burns, abrasions, and deadly dehydration.

I would have healed Anaika. Gone back to her before her birth and ensured Mom was well-nourished, provided for mother and child so together they would grow strong, so the devasting long-lasting effects of malnutrition wouldn’t shorten this little girl’s future. Then I’d be sure her kidneys were cured, all systems developed in full-working order, and she’d live long and prosper.

And I would have robbed CAP of progress. Of a whole new locale, complete with downstairs residence and extensive advantages including outdoor space for play and assembly, storage, full kitchen, added security and beauty. I would have robbed the seventh grade of a secondary school, the next level of their education. I would have robbed her family of their permanent residence, her father of his position as caretaker, her mother of a business place, her siblings of the advantages of growing up on the mission campus. I would have robbed us of this vision of God’s glorious working: His preparation of our needs, bringing beauty from ashes and so much good from the evil of death.

I would have healed Madame Marjorie. Relieved her that day of her terrible headache that she might teach in peace. Seen her back to her stern, perseverant, God-loving self at once, ready to tease and hug a moment after seeming so fierce. Kept her with her family who needed her: working husband, five children, three yet under the age of ten. Kept her with us who needed her as our third-grade teacher. And I would have robbed her children of steadfast partnership, robbed her family of the generous aid of another family.

I would have robbed Madame Marie Nadie of the opportunity of entrance into CAP, of job security particular to God’s employment. I would have robbed her family of those advantages. I would have robbed us of Marie Nadie.

I would have healed Adeline. Gone back to her birth and ensured the curse of asthma never entered her little body. Made her lungs strong, whole, hale and hearty enough to thrive in the chill mountain air, the damp cement walls, through the charcoal smoke and traffic fumes, through the ubiquitous dust. I would have kept Papa and Mama together, a healthy couple able to provide for their three children. I would have kept Adeline with us for years to come, watching her glow with health and the pride of doing well in lessons she was well enough to understand. And I would have robbed her of true perfect health and wholeness in Jesus’ arms. I would have robbed her of reunion with her Papa, Madame Marjorie, Anaika, Joozenaïka, Angelo, and Madame Missoule. I would have condemned her to years of suffering in this broken world.

And I know I would have robbed us of something, too. Of what I do not yet know.

But as I see the fruit, so painfully harvested, of Anaika’s and Joozenaïka’s deaths, I am sure that Adeline’s death was not only to her gain. Adeline is at rest now, beyond all the pain, fatigue, and fear of asthma, the constant struggle simply to breathe. She no longer needs our help. Even as I weep at the thought of not seeing her when I return to CAP, Haiti, for her mother’s grief, I thank God that Adeline isn’t suffering anymore.

And I look forward to what God has in store. What beauty will God grow from these ashes?

What goodness is God working from the evil of Marjorie’s sickness and death, her husband’s widower-hood, her children’s motherlessness? How will God show us that all things, even the too-recent and too-close-together excruciating losses of Marjorie and Adeline, work together for the Good of us who love Him?

Even as we toured what would become CAP’s new locale for the first time, a magnificent two-story house with rooms painted pleasant pastel colors, I choked on tears not merely for the grief of Anaika’s absence, but for the wonder at God’s working. Only a month after her death, God was walking us through this building, set in a compound with space for Recreation, for storage, for construction of a kitchen, a building so perfect for our needs we couldn’t have better listed a description. Of course, there were a hundred obstacles to moving CAP from our faithful building on the National Road, the only building the seven-year school had known. However, as God tumbled Jericho He brought down all of these.

The money to rent the building. The money to renovate, to build an outdoor toilet and an outdoor kitchen. A brand new, more powerful generator and a technician to hook it up. A vehicle and helping hands to move furniture. Fuel just enough to power the generator and the vehicles. A new director. A new third grade and fourth grade teacher and teachers’ assistants. A cistern, water tanks, a pump, and a water truck. Feed My Starving Children Manna Pack rice and a storage room too small to hold it all. Five extra days of cleaning and organizing with Beverly, Claudia, and I from the States, the impossible obstacle of our presence overcome by flights on little planes and long drives circumventing hot spots, buying gas on the side of the road as we passed gas stations chained closed.

Those five days of cleaning and organizing were supposed to be five days of school with children overrunning a campus not prepared for students: due to the ongoing horrors of kidnapping, threats, and protests, schools were closed and most people stayed home. We didn’t see the children, but we worked hard Monday to Friday and God used our team of many helping hands to great end. He also brought the Manna Pack rice and the water truck through by 5:00 Friday afternoon before darkness drove us home and national lockdown drove us prematurely out of the country.

Now November is coming to a close and Haiti is still in turmoil, the U.S. Embassy still ranking Haiti at a Level 4 “Do Not Travel,” and there is yet no end in sight. Gangs outnumber and outgun the police. They seem to outwit and outmaneuver the few remaining legitimate government officials. Fuel prices are a steal at $11.00 per gallon. Nuns, priests, missionaries, pastors, nurses, and patients in ambulances have been shot at and killed on the road. School children have been injured in abduction attempts and campuses have been overtaken by gangs. More than a month has passed since seventeen missionaries were kidnapped, including five children. Children die from this deliberate violence and from lack as the fuel shortages and roadblocks deprive them of basic resources.

Anaika stayed at three hospitals that ran out of oxygen. Adeline died because the local hospital had none to give.

We could easily despair, we could easily be angry, we could easily claim that we could do better.

However, remember Joseph, who suffered betrayal, slavery, and imprisonment in a foreign land. God used Joseph to save his entire family and to plant the Israelite people in a land where they would flourish.

Remember David, who suffered the insane jealousy and wrath of his king, the betrayal and death of his son, life on the run hiding in caves, the death and assault of a son and a daughter. God used David to deliver the Israelite people from the Philistines, used him to model us a man after God’s own heart, used him to write the Psalms.

Remember Esther, who suffered the indignity of being groomed for a ruthless king, the fear of discovery, the burden of her people’s fate, and the risk of execution. God used Esther to save the Israelite people from genocide and show Himself to the Babylonian empire.

Remember Jesus, who suffered like no other when he was on the cross, the only truly good man to die.

(“Jesus suffered like no other when He was on the cross / Why do the good die? That only happened once” KB “Heart Song”). God used Jesus to save us all, once for all time. Jesus who was and still is the Perfect Plan. Jesus, who confounded Satan, defeated him forever when he rose again to life. God’s Plan went beyond Jesus’ ministry on Earth, beyond the cross, beyond death. The Plan saw the Expected End, the Good that was to follow.

God didn’t pull Jesus off the cross. He didn’t spare him the pain. As He didn’t spare Esther, David, Joseph, Jeremiah, Job, Shadrach, Meshach, or Abednego their pain and trials. As He didn’t spare Angelo, Joozenaïka, Anaika, Marjorie, or Adeline. Instead, God used Jesus on the cross to save everyone. He used these people in their pain to help others, to do greater good than they could have imagined, and to make them stronger.

Job was confident, even as he sat in those ashes, that God was refining him. “When he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold,” he said (Job 23:10). If you read the book of Job to the end, you know this is true: after Job’s trials, the loss of everything, even the disease of his flesh, you know that God blesses him more abundantly. He has “twice as much as he had before,” even better behaved and more laudable children (Job 42:10-17). He lives a long and prosperous life: like gold.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego do not burn up in Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace. They come forth as gold, unsinged, without even smelling of the smoke. They lose nothing except their bonds. God does not save them from the fire; He saves them in the fire.

After the three have been cast into the inferno and the guards who passed them in have been consumed by the flames, Nebuchadnezzar sees figures moving within the furnace.

“Did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire?” he exclaims. “Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God” (Daniel 3:24-25).

The king sees four men in the furnace. By his own admission, this king who has ordered the execution of three men for their faith in a deity in whom he does not believe, the fourth figure appears so glorious he compares him to the “Son of God.” God doesn’t save his servants from the furnace; He saves them in the furnace.

Astounded, King Nebuchadnezzar goes near the opening of the furnace and calls for Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to come out. This time, when he addresses them, he calls them “servants of the Most High God” (Daniel 3:26). God’s three servants come out, unchanged save their bonds have vanished.

Pastor Raymond Woodward says, “There is freedom in the furnace of affliction when God is there with you. The only thing you stand to lose in that fire is the chains that bound you on the way in.”

God allows our affliction, our pain, but He does not ignore or enjoy it. He mourns and weeps with us, and He walks with us all the way. As God’s servants we are called to walk through the fire whether it burns us or not, knowing that God is walking through the fire with us, as He stood in the fire with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego so long ago before the very eyes of King Nebuchadnezzar and his guards. We remember that even should God not spare us the pain of the fire, He will deliver us, one way or the other.

I know God delivered Angelo. I know He delivered Joozenaïka, Anaika, Madame Marjorie, and dear Adeline. I know they are with Him in Heaven now, free of abuse, suffering, affliction, trial, trauma, and sickness for once and for all. I know that one day I will meet them again, in an ongoing celebration with all those who have gone before to Heaven, including those heroes Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, Job, Jeremiah, Esther, David, and Joseph. I cannot wait to meet these heroes, to see my beloved children again. Most of all I cannot wait to meet Jesus face to face.

Meanwhile, I take heart knowing He is with me here and now.

Knowing that He has not forgotten His children at CAP. He has not forgotten the fifteen Christian Aid missionaries still in captivity. He has not forgotten any of the Haitians nor any of the residents suffering under the near-anarchy of the gangster-run country. He has not forgotten a single of His suffering persecuted children in Ethiopia, North Korea, Afghanistan, or Columbia. He holds each one close and is walking beside each one even as He somehow walks beside me.

I do not know what my Expected End is. I only know that already God has made me better than I was before. Already He has proven Himself over and over, stronger than depression, anxiety, loneliness, joint pain, migraines, allergies, fatigue, and political correctness. Already I see myself a little closer to gold.

God’s Plan is more masterful than Satan’s. His chess playing and tapestry weaving long ago outwitted, outgunned, outmaneuvered, and out-moved Satan’s cheap cheating at checkers. Some of His Plan He’s revealed, with the new CAP location and secondary school for CAP’s seventh grade because of Anaika’s death. These glimpses of the masterpiece by the Grand Master make our beloveds’ passing more meaningly, if not exactly easier.

My Friend, as Ms. Henderson said, I want to pull you out, I want to stop your pain, but I know that’s not the Way. God will grow beauty out of this hard, out of the ashes. He will work this for your good. God does have an Expected End for you, and He only has thoughts of peace toward you.

Maybe we won’t become legends like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, however, even if we don’t and even if we must burn in the furnace, let’s be strong and remember that when this is over, we will come forth as gold.

Our trials are allowed by God. Our trials our limited by God. Our trials cannot thwart God’s purpose. Our trials bring about God’s purpose.

Madame Marjorie with two of her children

Adeline

Joozenaika

Anaika

Angelo

Works Cited

Henderson, Kimberly D. “When You Feel Painfully and Hopelessly Stuck in a Season You Don’t Want to Be In.” WordPress, 23 Sept. 2020, https://kdhenderson.wordpress.com/2020/09/23/when-you-feel-painfully-and-hopelessly-stuck-in-a-season-you-dont-want-to-be-in/?blogsub=confirming#subscribe-blog. Accessed 21 Nov. 2021.