Have you ever come to a place of utter desperation? Maybe financial problems plaguing you. Maybe a separation or divorce. Maybe dealing with a wayward child, or dealing with a potentially terminal illness. Days, weeks and months go by as you do all you can, in your own strength, to handle the issue that never seems to come to resolve. You come to the end of yourself – the desperation has overtaken you.
There’s a story of a widow who lived in the town of Zarapheth with her young son. They were dirt poor and starving – to death. She was hopeless and contemplating suicide. Holding on to her son tightly, she called out to God as a last resort; her pleas returned to her like a boomerang.
Whether believing in God, or not, everyone eventually prays for help.
Someone came alongside the widow and prayed for her, standing in the gap for her and her needs. Her prayers were answered. No doubt she was grateful for her blessing; it saved her son’s life as well as her own.
Sometimes, when we believe all hope is lost, that can be the moment God steps in and answers our prayers – rarely the way in which we expected. Once there is a resolution, even if its not exactly what we were hoping for, our peace returns to us, or, for the person who doesn’t believe in answered prayers – a type of homeostasis returns.
The widow and her son lived on for some time, enjoying everyday life. Some time later, her son became seriously ill. Her faith was again lost. Forgotten was the answered prayer of the past. All focus remained on her very dark and present situation.
So often people quickly forget that hope is real and mustn’t be forsaken. Hope is something we need to breathe in – it’s a living thing inside us that needs nurturing. Hope is the anchor, the anchor of faith that we all need in our lives.
The widow gave up hope as her son came sank closer to death. She lashed out in anger. She lost her hope. But God, once again made a believer out of her.
How many times have our cries resulted in our tears being wiped away, only to find that at the next crossroad, we keep taking the same left turn over and over again. What is the answer to remain at peace always and filled with hopeful expectation? “This hope [this confident assurance] we have as an anchor of the soul [it cannot slip and it cannot break down under whatever pressure bears upon it]—a safe and steadfast hope that enters within the veil [of the heavenly temple, that most Holy Place in which the very presence of God dwells].” Hebrews 6:19 Amplified.
Stand firm. Believe. Hope. Give thanks.
A couple of years ago, I was preparing to run a 5K. I had spent several weeks adding on a block or two of distance and pushing myself a little bit harder every day. I had never run before; I was careful not to push so hard that I might injure myself before the race. I just wanted to do it to prove to myself that I could do it, to prove to myself that I was tough. There was however a life lesson throughout the process which did not manifest itself to me until such time as I would be open to absorb it and learn from it. Unfortunately for me, that time was later rather than sooner. Welcome to my world.
A pit can be a hole, a grave, a feeling in the bottom of your belly – or it can be a place of refreshment – like in race car driving – the pit is where the drivers pull in to be refreshed and to have their vehicles refueled and repaired. But we certainly don’t think that way about our pits, do we?
When you find yourself in a pit, do you look at it as a place of refreshing and reparation, a place of being refreshed?
A pit is a place of trial and testing that God has pre-ordained whether it is directly from Him or He permits it. He gives us tests and trials. They are gifts, though we don’t always see the gift because we, if we are honest with ourselves, we are rarely Kingdom-minded.
The purpose of a trial is not to take away from you; it’s to add to you. God’s economy is about abundance and provision not lack and need.
He doesn’t live inside us because He has nowhere better to go. He lives there to make Himself known to us intimately. From Him, through Him and in Him are all things. That is a kingdom mindset.
We cannot be believers, disciples, or ambassadors of Yeshua and allow the people watching us, see us living anything but as Kingdom dwellers here on earth, especially when we’re in the pit. We can’t lead anyone from a pit without an attitude of gratitude.
Our tests and trials are given to us to lead us into a path of growth – into a fresh anointing of the Spirit for the glory of Jehovah.
When we go through trials we are meant to be learning how to walk with God and submit ourselves to Him by sitting at the feet of His throne, by listening to Him – to His plans, to learn His ways of thinking especially in regard to our relationship with Him.
The spiritual sitting at His feet takes place before His throne; from time to time, the physical sitting takes place in a pit. But this should come as no surprise to us. “A servant is not greater than his master.” John 15:20. Should we live an easier life than Yeshua?
A time in the pit is a “pit stop” it’s not a “pit stay”. If you begin in the pit from a faithless perspective, your situation will not end well. If you begin from a place of trust and gratitude you will end the way God planned it to end.
The first words we have to speak when we find ourselves in a pit are found in: Psalm 103:1-5
“Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases; Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.”
When we bless Him, He blesses us and we can be fruitful and bless others.
I saw you leaning over the bulbs you had just planted. Your hands caressed the soil as if it was velvet. A drop of sweat fell from your brow. The rose pushed through the soil and bloomed beneath your gaze. It reached up and kissed you. You sat down and began to speak. I wondered, as I watched in awe, to whom were you speaking. You seemed filled with joy; I wanted what you had. My gaze was fixed upon you.
You sat in the dirt and leaned back against the fence as you reached for a mason jar filled with water. You looked refreshed as you quenched your thirst. The late morning sun began to blaze upon you – the rose looked weary though it had not toiled as you had. You removed a handful of seeds from your pocket and put them in your mouth then spit them to the ground. Each seed took root before my very eyes. Sunflowers grew immediately providing shade and shelter for you and the rose. Your mason jar in hand, you poured the left over water around the rose. The roots drank it up; the rose bloomed. You smiled and began to speak again. Who were you speaking to? As if at your command, your empty jar replenished itself with cool water. If I hadn’t seen it, I would have never believed it.
One after another, roses of differing colours began to sprout around you. You began to draw in the dirt; writing something perhaps. I was watching from a distance, marveled by this power you possessed; humbled by your dedication to the seeds you had sown. Every seed grew up strong in your presence. My curiosity drew me closer to you. I quietly inched my way closer to see what you had drawn in the sand – you hadn’t drawn at all – you had written something. I stepped on a dry twig; you looked in my direction. I felt as if you could see through the shrubs I was using as a veil – as if you could see right through me. The sun began to peak in the sky. I was hot, afraid to move, afraid you would discover me, frightened that you could see into the very depth of my soul – where nothing grew. My heart pounded in my chest in anticipation of what was to come – what might be – if I would surrender.
You closed your eyes and picked up the mason jar, pouring water into the palm of your hand and then you blew, ever so gently, into your hand. My breath was taken away. The tiniest droplets of water began to fall upon me. It wasn’t rain; it was more like a refreshing mist. The flowers seemed to be moving closer, bowing their blossoms as if to read what you had written in the dirt. You smiled and looked up into the crystal blue sky and the flowers began to sing. They sang in harmony but from where did the music come? I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew the music was coming from your heart. I thought to myself, if I were to live but a moment more could it be in your arms? Your head slowly turned toward me as if to answer my request. You held out your arm – your spirit hearkened to mine, “Come.” Suddenly I knew that I was yours – that you had come for me – that we could be separated no more. It was predestined; I had always been yours. My clothes became brilliant as the sun. As I drew near to you, you seemed to draw near to me, but you had not moved. You reached for my hand and when we touched I tingled from the inside out. You looked through my eyes into my soul and I knew I was pure, I was beautiful. I felt your grip tighten every so slightly – you didn’t even have to speak. I looked down at what you had written in the soil. My heart leapt in my bosom. I was filled with knowledge and understanding. You had written the name of your betrothed – the love of your heart, the lover of your soul – it was my name…Hope, the name you gave me, a desire for you that you had planted within my soul from the beginning. You left the garden, but you stayed with me always and forever. You established my roots firmly; you gave me rest. You gave me shelter and my jar shall always be full.
Recently, a show aired on television that showed how the ancients refined gold and silver. The refining of metals dates back to 550 BC at Sardis, where the first coins were minted. The refiner would heat the fire to 700 degrees to melt the silver and then pour it into clay jars. The impurities would float to the top and stick to the edges of the pots. How did the refiner know when the silver was pure? He knew when he could see a perfect reflection of himself in the silver.
I have to admit that I often struggle with the knowledge that I have been made in God’s image because at any given time I can take a spiritual look at myself in the mirror and I have yet to see His perfect image staring back at me. After watching this show, it became clear to me that the fact that I do not see His reflection it does not mean that I am not made in His image and it does not mean that I will never see His reflection looking back at me. Refining gold and silver is a process.
Malachi 3:2-3 describes Yeshua’s coming as follows: “For He will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver.”
When I accepted Yeshua into my heart, my life changed immediately. My image did not. I became a child of God, but I did not always look like one to those around me, especially in the beginning. The process however commenced immediately.
I look at many circumstances, events – and from time to time – a crisis here and there. In retrospect, I can see that in all of things, God has allowed the heat to be turned up in order to separate the dross from my character by this very process. I am called to reflect grace and mercy, not unkindness and judgment. I am called to reflect courage and faith, not cowardice and fear. I am called to live and walk in integrity, not dishonesty. The purification or refining in my life is a continuous process, one that deepens my dependency on Him, one that brings me into a more intimate relationship with Him, and one that brings me closer to having His reflection look back at me in that spiritual mirror.
Knowing Him is loving Him. Loving Him is doing as He did in the same nature and spirit as He did. His Refiner’s Fire is not limited to the Levites….