People are born for trouble as readily as sparks fly up from a fire. 

Job 5:7 (NLT)

 

I’ve heard it said before that we are either in crisis, coming out of crisis, or headed into crisis. I suppose that can be a bit depressing, but wherever you are in relation to a crisis, this book is for you. 

In almost 25 years of pastoral ministry, I’ve had hundreds of lunch meetings, but none as powerful as the one I shared with a friend in the spring of 2017. What I assumed would be a relatively normal lunch conversation, changed my life forever.

I was meeting with Russell, a brilliant man, whose intellect can be a bit intimidating. His brain power and sheer knowledge of life is amazing. I always tease him as being the smartest man to ever come out of Arkansas. He is also one of the most caring and genuine people I have ever met. 

As we walked into the restaurant, I was excited about eating one of my favorite meals. Russell greeted me and asked, sincerely, how my day was. It was a Tuesday, and we were in the middle of merging three large churches into one. Tuesdays were my most challenging day of the week. The majority of the day was spent in meetings: elder meetings, all staff meetings, team meetings, event meetings… you get the idea. It was a mentally, emotionally, and spiritually demanding day. I don’t recall on that particular Tuesday who or what was agitating me, but something was. When Russell asked how I was doing, I unloaded. Not recalling specifics, I imagine I vented about staff, communication, impending decisions, the upcoming Easter production, and I’m sure a slew of other issues. Russell kindly listened and responded caringly, but then it hit me like a Mack truck. 

I vividly recall stopping dead in the tracks of my verbal tirade. My friend’s only child, Adalyn, was in the hospital! Since her birth just a few months earlier, she had left the hospital for a very brief homecoming, only to return in worse condition. Russell’s wife, Heather, was living at the hospital, advocating and caring for their daughter. Heather literally never left. As a couple, they were staying in the nearby Ronald McDonald House. Like an anvil falling from Heaven, God crushed me. Instantly, I realized how much of a self-absorbed jerk I was. 

While I was whining about work, my dear friend’s daughter was fighting for her life. In that moment, I was so sick to my stomach I didn’t care to eat. I quickly tried to change the subject and asked Russell how he was doing. He began to cry. I knew he had some heavy things to talk to me about. We ordered, got our food, and found an empty booth in the midst of a very busy lunch hour. The noise of the bustling restaurant seemed to just fade away. As long as I live, I’ll never forget the conversation we had over the next few minutes. Tears began to stream down Russell’s face as he asked me, “Why?” 

I braced to answer questions about his daughter and her medical struggles, but this sweet man wasn’t asking about Adalyn. That very day, friends that he and Heather had met in the hospital had lost their child and another couple was nearing the end of the journey with theirs. Russell looked me straight in the eyes and asked, “Why are these sweet, innocent children dying? Why is God letting this happen?” He wasn’t ranting or yelling; he was asking, pleading for the truth. We were sitting in an extremely busy place, surrounded by people, both sobbing. What could I tell him? What explanation could I give? What would comfort him or bring peace to his heart? And his question about God – how could I defend or advocate for God? What rationale could I make that didn’t sound too churchy or preachy? I felt hopelessly inadequate. Then, I felt deep in my soul the Holy Spirit simply say to me, “Tell him.”

For the next few moments in my head, I argued with God. “Lord,” I thought, “he might hate me. He might leave the church. Lord, the truth is really heavy and hard. The truth will hurt him. It will be too bitter of a pill to swallow. I’m sure you just want me to listen and care.” I’ve never been a good listener, but I was fighting God for permission to just listen that day. Yet the Lord was adamant – tell Russell the truth. 

“Russell,” I said, “I need to go to the car to get my Bible. I’ll be back in a second.” I knew what the Lord wanted me to say, but I was afraid. I was scared of offending him, but deep down I was even more afraid of what he would think of me when I told him the truth. I didn’t want to recklessly hurt my already hurting friend. I know the truth is not what most people want to hear or can handle hearing during their time of grief and crisis. This was different. Russell wanted answers and I had clearly sensed the still, small, mighty voice of God tell me to answer his question.

I walked to the car, grabbed my Bible, and then headed back into the restaurant. I sat down and flipped to a page with a sticky note I had scribbled some notes on. For the previous three or four years, I had written a series of notes in my Bible. Around 2013 or before, I can’t really remember, the Lord had shown me in the Bible what I thought were the four most important truths in Scripture, in the world, and I would even say in the universe. At first, I thought this Biblical hypothesis may be just an extreme oversimplification. However, since writing them down, reading Scripture, and checking them against God’s final authority over and over again, I’ve become convinced that they are, in fact, the four most important truths.

That day, sitting in a booth surrounded by people taking a quick lunch break, we opened the Bible and began talking through these truths. My friend Russell listened. And being a preacher, I have a decent sense of when people are listening, when they are pretending to listen, and when they have checked out. He listened intently. He didn’t protest. He didn’t argue. We were handling heavy truths and he didn’t buckle. I watched God illuminate profound realities for my friend and for me. I left that restaurant changed. I walked to my car and sobbed – a shaking, ugly cry that only God and I witnessed. God had used me that day to help my friend. God had also mercifully revealed my prideful, selfish heart. 

This book is what I told him and what I believe the truth of the Scripture clearly and consistently teaches. Whatever trial or storm you are facing, or even victory you have gained, I believe that these four truths can transform you, sustain you, and carry you through to the finish line. They are the four most important truths and they are true for all time.

Truth #1 – God is in complete control.

Truth #2 – All things exist for God’s glory.

Truth #3 – God’s ways are not our ways.

Truth #4 – God loves you and me.

I want to end this introduction by adding a sincere and genuine warning label. When I was a child, one of my favorite books was The Monster at the End of This Book: Starring Lovable, Furry Old Grover. Grover was my favorite Sesame Street character. The premise of the book is that Grover is trying to stop the reader from turning the pages because there’s a monster at the end of the book. In the end, the monster is just Grover. There isn’t a monster at the end of this book, but there are some tough things right at the beginning. 

Unlike Grover, who is trying in vain to keep the reader from turning the page, I am trying to encourage you and, in extreme cases, beg you to keep going. Proceed with caution, but please proceed. Keep reading and face, not a monster, but important truths. These truths aren’t simple, easy, or without mystery, but they will be an anchor in the waves of grief, a firm foundation in an ever-changing world, the grid for a truly Biblical worldview, and peace when everything seems to go wrong.

Russell was ready for the truth, but you may not be. And that’s okay. When you are, pick this book up and read it. Maybe you are ready, but your spouse or friend isn’t. Timing is key. Even though this book is short, it might take you some time to read. Not because you’re a slow reader, but because it might require time for you to process, and you might find some of these stories triggering. It’s a little strange to say, but reading this book and believing the truths in it will take courage. “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear.” It is okay to be afraid, just know that someone (not something) else more important than fear awaits you. And that someone is God. King David wrote, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3).

 

Prayer of confession and belief – 

God, I want to encounter you for real. I want to see you and know you. As I draw near to you, I know that you draw near to me. Amen. 

 

Psalm 46
God is our refuge and strength,

    a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,

    though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

    though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

    the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;

    God will help her when morning dawns.

The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;

    he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

    the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

Come, behold the works of the Lord,

    how he has brought desolations on the earth.

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;

    he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

    he burns the chariots with fire.

“Be still, and know that I am God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,

    I will be exalted in the earth!”

The Lord of hosts is with us;

    the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah