

Being in a body of believers whose leadership is embracing this topic has breathed within me the realization that I am NOT alone in my struggle. There is hope for me and the many like me who silently struggle.
It is amazing the ways that God has of speaking, of teaching anyone who has ears to hear; even using cats. One of the three that graciously allow us to share their home and care for them has been an illustration God has used before, but especially more recently. Kathy and I are members of The Bridge Church in Wilmington, N.C. and recently the lessons have broached topics that not many will come near. The series “I Am Done” spoke to how the superficial ‘I’m fine’ so often masks sorrow and pain that we are afraid to share with anyone (or even admit to ourselves). We see others and ask them, “How are you?” not really wanting to know, just being ‘polite.’ When asked the same, we almost always automatically respond, “Fine.” But we are far from fine or okay or great; even committed disciples of the Christ are often anything but that. The series had four separate lessons; “I Am Defeated,” I Am Depressed,” I Am Discouraged” and “I Am Disillusioned.” Not the usual sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows that are proclaimed from far too many pulpits each Sunday; instead a frank look into the souls of the majority of us who are afraid of what seems a world of division that is bent on self-destruction. Yes, in Christ we, more than anyone else on this sad planet, do have hope; but life on this world WILL involve pain no matter who you are and denying that (or worse, ignoring it) does the Gospel no favor. The Good News cannot be perceived as good unless we also face the very real BAD news. Today we began a new series, “Hurting Out Loud, The Psalms of Lament,” beginning with Psalm 130. The opening verse screams with the anguish that we all have experienced, whatever the cause. Clayton spoke of how weeping is a vital prolog to worship; heartfelt and genuine worship cannot come unless that person has had a season of weeping or, as Chuck Swindoll once put it (paraphrasing), ‘God cannot use anyone unless He has first crushed them.’ This may seem cruel and heartless; how can a God of love do such you may ask. Only a heart that has been through the crucible of suffering can be open to God’s work in their heart, and it is that suffering that often does speak loudest to anyone. Still, we choose to ignore this; instead, we pretend that all is well and by wearing this façade we hold our Creator at arm's length. ![]() Getting back to our cats, or rather to one in particular, C.J. She is a rescue (as all of our owners, excuse me, cats are), but when she first arrived in our home was full of worms. The treatment for this was an extensive course of medication that, unfortunately, was neuro-toxic. This critter became somewhat ‘different.' She is usually very lovable, but can without warning return petting with claw and fang! She is one of the neediest animals I’ve ever seen (outside of a mirror anyway) that constantly seems to need assurance that she is loved. I can be in the same room with her, and if I am out of sight of her, she begins the most piteous wailing imaginable. Sometimes just speaking to her will silence the anguished cries, but it can be necessary to go to her to comfort her. ![]() Another cat that owned me was Charlie. He adopted our family when we lived in Cape Carteret and was feral; much more comfortable outside than in and not usually willing to suffer being petted (though he did make an exception for me). To say he was self-sufficient was an understatement of galactic proportions! He was unafraid of any creature; once fighting off a bobcat that had wandered onto his turf and killing a hound that had begun to attack my brother. Yes, Charlie was his own ‘man’ unwilling to accept any master; he would come inside briefly during inclement weather, but soon would be standing at the door wanting to go. I used to think that Charlie was my all-time favorite cat but recently have come to change my opinion on that. C.J., as pitiable as she is, has supplanted Charlie simply because she is so pitiful and needy. C.J. is much more like me than Charlie; indeed despite what I’d like to pretend at times, Charlie is NOTHING like me! Tony, as with C.J., is a creature broken by life who is destitute of any ability to survive in a world gone mad. Even surrounded by those who do love me, I often feel isolated and bereft of hope. I cannot ‘see’ God, and so feel all the more isolated and alone; I smile at others and keep my façade in place, but within I am, like C.J., calling out for comfort and reassurance. Sadly when such does come from God, I am prone to fight back and push such comfort away.
Being in a body of believers whose leadership is embracing this topic has breathed within me the realization that I am NOT alone in my struggle. There is hope for me and the many like me who silently struggle.
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