Thanksgiving is looming upon us. This year of 2013 is quickly drawing to a close and in two short weeks I will be preparing the Thanksgiving dinner for our family. Each year it is hosted by one of my husband's sisters or myself.

(This painting hung in my home when I was growing up. I have always loved it. It reminds me of my dad, of my brother, of the countless meals around the table and the prayers my dad prayed)

 We volunteered this year. 

 So now the questions loom. How to give thanks when there are empty seats at the table? How to give thanks for the hard truths learned this year? How to give thanks for the long fight where heart and soul were poured into an all out effort to make things right and yet it turned out wrong?

 How to give thanks for the wounded hearts, the bruised and battered souls?

 How to give thanks when you have battled darkness for someone, only to have darkness seemingly win? How to give thanks when that darkness snatched yet another from us, two dear ones within a few months time? How to give thanks when that same darkness seems hellbent to consume yet a third?

 "In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." He says.

 Three very key words there......"in"..........and........"everything".......

 Give thanks "in" all things. That means right there, in the thick of it, we are to lift our hands to the heavens and give thanks.

 In "everything".

for this is the "will" of God.

So we lift our hands to the heavens and we give thanks to the One who is the protector of our souls. 

We thank Him for His deliverance.

We thank Him for our trials.

We thank Him for the circumstances.

We thank Him for His promises.

We thanks Him that His promises are true, even if we do not see them now, we affirm that we will see them.

And in the act of giving these thanks we understand....

 The darkness did not win. Those we love reside apart from all darkness now. He is their light. They worship Him now in spirit and in truth, they revel in His glory, bask in His love.........darkness did not win. In truth, darkness was utterly defeated and forever dispelled.

 "My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand."

  Loved ones can be snatched from us here, leaving us to go on without them. But they were not snatched from Him. Their time in this fight is over. We have simply been left to fight on for a time. We will see them again. They were both His. Until then we should fight on, looking back on that victory that was achieved at the cross, where the Seed of the woman, once and for all bruised and crushed the head of darkness.

 Like a snake when it's head is crushed, darkness writhes and twists and does all in it's remaining power to harm......but in truth it's time is swiftly approaching, and it is dead.

 As for the darkness that still seeks to destroy.........

 If there is one thing the darkness hates, it is to see those afflicted, raise their hands to the heavens and sing praises to the King of glory! Darkness much prefers you on the floor in a heap, weeping and sobbing and bemoaning your state. Darkness seeks to defeat you, to have you cast off your faith and wallow in despair.

Darkness is the absence of light, and all that is needed to dispel it is flipping a switch. I stumble about in the darkness of my home, bumping into things like a fool when all I need do is flip the light switch. Just as I often stumble around in the trials and burdens of this life, bumping into things, crying out in despair, when all I need do is lift my hands to the heavens and praise God, and thank Him for His mercy and His grace, thank Him for salvation freely given to one who deserves it not, thanks Him for the trials and ask that He help me bring glory to Him in the midst of them......and the light pierces through the darkness and I can see again!

 So I raise my hands, I sing His praises! I believe! I am a child of the King! I rest on His promises! I give thanks!

Thanksgiving is the key.

                    The key to hope, the key to faith, the key to strength.

 Give thanks, in everything. For it is His will. Trust Him, no matter what you are experiencing, for He has made us promises, and those promises are true and amen, and whatever happens to be going on will lead to victory.

 "For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans for well-being, and not for calamity, in order to give you a future and a hope. "

 So we look forward to the Thanksgiving celebration, where family will gather together. We will eat and drink and remember the many blessings He has given, He is giving and He will give. The greatest of these blessings is the forgiveness of sins, the assurance of salvation, and the hope of eternity with Him.

"“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,
Nor have entered into the heart of man
The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”

The photo is called "Vengeance is Mine" and depicts a victorious Christ, stepping upon the head of Satan, the sword in His hand the Sword of the Word of God, and the robes in His other hand depict His stripping all authority and power from the enemy.
The artist is Chris Higham.

His website can be found here: http://www.christian-art.org.uk/cgi-bin/ca.cgi?page=home.html

 

This morning as I walked into my local Walmart a woman handed me a tiny red poppy on a little metal stem.

I stopped, and took it from her hand, and just looked at it. I had to reach down deep, real deep, to find the strength not to simply burst into tears. This little tiny flower, made of cheap fabric and wire, yet it weighs like a stone in my hand, like a thousand pound rock pressing into my very soul. The weight of it threatens to push me to my knees……

  I have always honored our veterans and the poppy has always been meaningful to me. It represented my dad and his service during WWII, it represented my own service during peace time, and it represented the countless ones who fought and died for my freedom. It represented all the patriotic flag waving parades attended across the years.............each year it has come to mean a little more to me as my own son deployed with the Army Infantry, first to Iraq, then to Afghanistan.

But today, I think I finally understand, I think I get it, this little red poppy means so very much more than all I had previously thought. I am unable to express in full detail what it means…but in the words that follow I will attempt as best I can.

 The poppy stands for Kalin Johnson,  Rudy Acosta, Michael Anaya, Kris Lorenzo, Vincent Ashlock, Frank World, David Todd, Patrick Carroll, Stephen Koch, Adam McSween, Seth Blevins, Andy Krippner, Kevin Balduf, Jamie Jarboe, Dustin Lee, Derek McConnell, Juan Navarro, Michael Demarsico…….and ………so very many more, all lives, all leaving behind lives forever scarred by their absence.

The poppy stands for Leah and her beautiful boys and the birthday they just celebrated, he would have been 36 years old this year. Deployed to heaven, gone too soon, killed in action in Afghanistan.

It stands for Cheryl, Chipster,Florence,Walline and Mary…………godly loving people, who show love and mercy to all they see, who pray so for my son, theirs gone too soon, theirs deployed to heaven.

It stands for Lisa, we agreed together on so many prayer posts, lifted up our sons and all those with them....mine came home, hers deployed to heaven.

It stands for the little blond boy, sitting in a heart shaped wave on a beach, who will never feel the arms of his father about him as he grows.

 It stands for  a young man named Michael as he lay burned and wounded in that hospital bed in Germany, his beautiful young wife beside him bending low to hear his whisper…”you have to let me go”…..and she did, with tears and sorrow.

 It stand for a leader named John, who promised families he would bring their men home, and who now sits in prison till the end of his days for doing so.

 It stands for Siobhan who laid everything down and rushed to the side of her wounded son, she and he fought like lions, through the constant threat of death, each time pushed back, each time defeated, and then one night he simply went to sleep and never woke up…deployed to heaven, we know not why.

 It stands for Jamie Jarboe, as we watched from afar, the desperate fight to live, he fought long, he fought hard, but in the end, he went home, leaving behind a young wife who tries her best to honor his wishes and his memory by assisting veterans and their families.

 It stands for Chaz, as he picks himself up off the ground at an airport, and his beautiful wife  who feels the eyes of condemnation upon her by some stranger who knows nothing at all of the story she is witnessing.

 It stands for young Mark, who graced our home with his presence, as he slyly twists his foot in a full circle and shows us his prosthetic leg.

 It stands for Harry. It stands for Anthony. It stands for all our wounded and all those who love them.

  The poppy stands for Trevor, Jon, Joe, Allen, Artie …and all of of those who fell to suicide. Behind them stand more wives, husbands, mothers, fathers and children all asking why.

  It stands for Tammy, who buried her son Jon too soon, one who lost his fight against PTSD. She often sings various lyrics from numerous old songs, and she reaches out to veterans and survivors of suicide to lend a helping hand.

 The poppy stands for a host of young men and women still out there fighting, still paying the price, still bleeding blood wounds and soul wounds the likes of which you cannot comprehend. For Francis, for Stuart and a host of others.

 The poppy stands for all those who wait, for all those who struggle, for all those lives affected by all these wars, from the one that first began this country to the one we fight right now, to the ones we will most likely fight again in the future. The fallen, the wounded, the maimed…..and every single soul that loves them.

 The poppy stands for those who have come home, and yet remain there, who battle against PTSD, the ones enduring the nightmares, the anxiety, the anger, the depression, the hopelessness. For Andrew who once sat in a closet, gun to his head and who now writes books and poetry and strengthens his brothers and sisters. For Boone who uses the demon of PTSD against itself and directs his rage towards helping his brothers and sisters come together and stand together and fight PTSD. All the way Boone! It stands for Joe Dyer whose photo carrying an Iraqi boy to safety touched the heart of America but who died battling the demons of PTSD.

It stands for Bill, still battling the memories of Vietnam.

  Behind each warrior who battles PTSD stand more mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, wives, husbands and children, watching their loved ones struggle against darkness, doing all that they can to help, fearing the dark, raging at the dark, and lighting candles against it.

 And now the poppy begins to become very personal to me……the poppy stands for Allen, and for Mandy, and Luke and Reddik, for Steve and Judy, for all the blood, the tears the sacrifice, the loss and the sorrow.

 It stands for the flag passed to two little boys, and the looks on their faces as they accepted it. It stands for the young woman who is burying the love of her life.

 The poppy stands for my son Joshua, who never served a day and yet has served every day for many years. He bore the burden of an older brother fighting, he bore the fear of loss, he bore the worry and the stress and now he bears his brothers wounds, now home, the physical war behind him, but the mental one rages on.

 The poppy stands for my family, for the nights on our knees, on our faces, for the fear, for the worry, for the pride, for the sacrifice, for the nights without sleep, for all the cries sent up to heaven, for all the pleas for prayers, for the days spend hovering by the phone, for the sorrow and pain felt at each loss, each wound. For the loss, for Mel who could not endure it all……

 The poppy stands for Adam, my oldest son, for his service and sacrifice in Iraq and Afghanistan, for his actions, for the good and the bad, for his fighting with all of his heart and soul, for his wounds received, the physical and the mental, for the innocence lost, for his guts and his bravery and his willingness to do whatever it takes to bring his guys home, for the price he has paid for that, for the lives he saved and the lives he took. For the fight he is engaged in now, a fight for life and soul. For the great love we his family have for him, for the pride we have in him. He is a man. He has stared into the face of fear and hate, death and evil. He bears the scars of those encounters, and fights still to overcome wounds received to his soul.

 This then is why, when that woman passed me that poppy this morning, it near took me to my knees, right there at Walmart, it stole the breathe from my lungs, brought the tears to my eyes, and I took it from her, and I nodded, for I could not speak, and I looked at it, and I pinned it to my chest.

  So I ask you, regardless of what the poppy might mean to you………pin it to your chest, it is heavy this tiny flower, this lite as air piece of fabric and wire, it weighs the soul, weighs down deep……..weighed down with the terrible cost of war, the blood, the wounds, the death, the destruction, the hate, the pain, the loss, the fear….it is heavy but nonetheless, carry it and remember.

 There is one more thing……..the poppy in all its heaviness, all that it represents of pain and loss and sorrow and sacrifice, also reminds me of my Lord. He too understood death and blood and pain and sorrow. He was whipped near to death, a crown of thorns pressed into his brow, he carried a heavy wooden instrument of torture to a high hill, whereby he was nailed to it, and lifted up, naked and laid bare to the world, to be mocked and scorned, his side pierced with a spear…..the sinless Lamb of God willingly took all this upon him, all the sin and death and horror and ugliness of this world, that we might be set free from the price of all our sins.

The blood that ran down was red like a poppy, and it has the power to wash away all sin. And upon remembering this, the back became stronger, the weight of the tiny flower eased, and once again it was a flower of remembrance for all that has been sacrificed.

I am so very honored to wear it.

 If you are willing, and if there is someone for you, that gives that poppy weight, please leave their name in the comments so we can honor their memory. God bless you all, and God keep our veterans.

 I watched the Billy Graham special today and I was blessed by the testimony of the young rapper ( Lecrae), and by the young lady singer (Lacey Sturm). The entire video was a blessing but two things were said that really struck me.

 The young man mentioned the preacher that first spoke the gospel to his heart, and how that preacher looked out across a room of young gangster, ex-cons and told them, "How dare you tough guys call my Jesus a wimp!" and then proceeded to tell them the things our Lord endured on their behalf. Things most of us would not be able to endure, and that we certainly would not endure for others, most especially others who turned against us, spat on us and mocked us.

 Too many people, especially younger people, and those who think themselves to be tough, think Jesus was some kind of meek and mild man, they see Him as weak. Those who hold this view have not read the scriptures well and have looked at too many pictures of our Lord depicted as a nice looking guy holding a lamb. Jesus is a warrior king, all one has to do is read the description given of Him in the book of Revelation to know that He is by no means a wimp.

"Now I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse. And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes were like a flame of fire, and on His head were many crowns. He had a name written that no one knew except Himself. He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God. ..............Now out of His mouth goes a sharp sword, that with it He should strike the nations. And He Himself will rule them with a rod of iron. He Himself treads the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God. And He has on His robe and on His thigh a name written: King of Kings and Lord of Lords."

  The punishment that He endured up to and including His crucifixion also demonstrate the strength and endurance of Our Lord.He was scourged before he endured the cross, which was basically a whipping with a special whip, used by the Romans for such punishment. Typically the whip had several lashes on it, and each lash would be tipped with bits of metal or bone. These bits of metal or bone would rend the flesh of the person being whipped.

"For scourging, the man was stripped of his clothing, and his hands were tied to an upright post.  The back, buttocks, and legs were flogged either by two soldiers (lictors) or by one who alternated positions.  The severity of the scourging depended on the disposition of the lictors and was intended to weaken the victim to a state just short of collapse or death.  As the Roman soldiers repeatedly struck the victim’s back with full force, the iron balls would cause deep contusions, and the leather thongs and sheep bones would cut into the skin and subcutaneous tissues.  Then, as the flogging continued, the lacerations would tear into the underlying skeletal muscles and produce quivering ribbons of bleeding flesh.  Pain and blood loss generally set the stage for circulatory shock.  The extent of blood loss may well have determined how long the victim would survive on the cross. "

 Needless to say the scourging our Lord endured was brutal, and terribly painful. Yet He endured it willingly, and went on to carry his own cross, atop his ripped flesh, to Golgotha, where He was nailed to it, the torn flesh of His back pressed up against the rough and brutal wood of the cross. Wimps would have died before they ever got to Golgotha.

 Which leads me to the second thing that was said that struck me, "He lived the life that I cannot live. He died the death that I should die." Mr Graham spoke about how people do not like to hear this truth. They do not like to hear that they are worthy of God's condemnation. But truth is truth whether one wants to believe it or not. Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, came down to this dirty disgusting sin ravished world, walked as a mere man, preached to the people, healed the people, fed the people, set captives free and raised the dead, then delivered Himself up to be crucified and killed.

 Because all throughout the scriptures God had taught His people that sin requires a sacrifice to atone. But there was never anyone or anything worthy to pay the debt once and for all. Until Christ came. He the perfect sinless man, died in our place, on a Roman cross that our sins might be paid for. And then He, the perfect God, rose from the dead that we might not have to die.

 Because of Him, our sins are paid in full. He is willing to give us a new name. We no longer have to be called, liar, cheater, thief, murderer, rapist, adulterer,coveter, blasphemer, whore, whore-monger, deceiver, coward, idolator nor any other name by which you may call yourself or that God almighty knows you to be. The blood of Christ is able to wash all that away.

 As Mr Graham said, people do not like to be told they are sinners. You basically have two types in the world, for the most part. Those who truly think they are pretty decent people and those who know they are not. The first will die without a Savior because they do not believe they need one, the second will die without a Savior because they think their sins to grievous for God to ever forgive. Both are wrong.

 All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, all are condemned because of that sin. None have the power within themselves to be decent human beings who keep God's commandments. In order to stand before God righteous on your own power you must faithfully and always, never failing even once, keep each of God's commandments. Not one of us can even keep the 1st one, let alone the other nine.

 And if you add to that, the words our Lord spoke when He walked this earth, you are even more utterly doomed. Jesus said that if we call our brother fool we are guilty of murder, and if we look at someone in lust we are guilty of adultery. That right there takes out everyone, for rarely does a day pass that we do not call someone a fool, and lust is everywhere. The porn industry alone sees to that.

 So the truth of the matter is simple. It was you and me that rightly should be nailed to a cross. We are guilty. We are deserving of God's wrath and His judgement. When that thief, crucified next to our Lord spoke, he in truth spoke for you and for me. "And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong."

 Our sins, the sins of the entire world, were poured upon Jesus on the cross. Ever dark and nasty deed, every murder, every rape, every lie and theft and deceit. My sins, your sins, and the sins of all those who came before us and all who will come after, poured out upon the Lamb of God, that He might die under them, and thereby atone for them.

 And in so doing, He made a way for us, that despite our unworthiness and our inability to do what is right and what is required by God, He in His great mercy, made a way for us to stand before Him. Those who believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as their Savior and Lord, can stand in the very presence of God, for when He looks down upon you, He sees the righteousness of Christ, not the filthy dirty clothes you wear. He sees the perfect sinless life of the god-man Jesus, and not your countless sins. He gives you a new name.

No longer are you Murderer, no longer are you Deceiver, no longer are you ________, but you are now a child of the King, clothed in His righteousness, destined for glory......go and sin no more!

 

I wholeheartedly recommend Mr. Graham's final message to America, the video is only about 28 minutes long. It has some wonderful testimony's in it, and you can watch it in it's entirety here:

 And I also recommend the below link. Here you can learn more about the things our Lord endured on your behalf.

 http://cbcg.org/scourging_crucifixion.htm

 Here is the link to the song sung in the video, called Mercy Tree sung by Lacey Sturm.



 And here is the link to the song "Tell the World" sung by Lecrae

  

Suicide has become personal to my family. It has touched us personally. Two family members took their own lives in 2013 leaving behind shattered lives and heaps of sorrow. They are at peace now, but their peace came at a terrible price for everyone else.

  Our society is currently enduring an epidemic of suicide, with more than 22 veterans a day taking their own life, combined with people from other walks of life, the exact figure unknown. Each one of those deaths represents far more than just the loss of that one life. Now the loss of that one life is terrible, it is unacceptable, it is heartbreaking, but add to it all the sorrow that it leaves in its wake, and the domino effect that it creates and it is simply incomprehensible.

  I have contemplated suicide. I am now 53 years of age, but once, long ago, when I was about 17, I could see no good reason for my continued existence. I felt lost and alone. All that I had attempted in my life, to be accepted, to find love, to have hope, had turned to dust. I wanted to die. And yet today I look back on that time and it is as if it were someone else. I have experienced so much, seen so much, been blessed with so much over the years, and none of it would have been had I taken my life. There were a lot of hard times between then and now, but looking back, they were more than worth it. Life is worth it, if not today, then hold on for tomorrow, hold on for next week, hold on for next year. In the end it will be worth it.

 Let's consider the debris left in the wake of your suicide. Someone will find you, once you have completed your task. It might be your mom, your dad, a sister or a brother, perhaps your wife, God forbid it be one of your children, but whomever, it will be a living breathing soul who comes across your body. They will take that memory to their grave. Perhaps you will be one of those who makes a point to do it somewhere so that a stranger finds you. Even that stranger is a living breathing soul, they too will suffer from the experience.

 Then comes the time when the family must inform everyone. Consider your mother, she will drop to her knees as if someone slugged her right in the gut.  Your dad will try to be strong for everyone else, he wishes with all his heart that he could drop to his knees and scream at the heavens....but he must be strong for the others. Consider your siblings, life is already tough for them, but now they will carry your death with them. Consider your spouse? Did they do enough? Did you know how much they loved you? Did they do something wrong, say something wrong? Why?  Why?  Why? Everyone will ask themselves this question over and over and over again.....to their very graves.

 Each conversation had with you will be replayed, over and over, by everyone who loved you. It is a broken record that we cannot turn off. Some will deal with it better than others, but it plays for them all. Those left behind will always ask why? Why did you do this? Why did you choose this path? The pain is gut wrenching, and for the survivors of suicide, those left behind after you have gone, there really are no good answers. You just try and live with the pain, you just try to silence the questions.

 Consider your children. I wonder if you have ever heard the screams of a little boy when he is told that his father is gone? Ever watched his face as he attempts to make some sense of the thing that makes no sense at all? It is not a pretty sight, and that scene too will live in the minds of everyone until their grave.

 Think of all the family gatherings and memorial times, from this very moment until the very last one of your surviving family and friends have passed on. Not one will ever be the same. You will not be there, and everyone will feel that, each time they gather.

 Your death also can cause a domino effect. Especially if you are a veteran and suffer from PTSD. When you go down it will hit your fellow warfighters hard.....real hard, especially if they actually served with you, but even those who never met you, but served themselves will feel the pain of your passing. It will drive home their own struggles, it will knock them off whatever rung of the ladder they have managed to climb to, and it will set them back. For some, it will enable them to pick up the gun, pick up the bottle and follow you into the night.

 Warfighter suicides also hit the families of those who have a loved one battling PTSD or TBI. What those families need most is HOPE! Hope that this demon can be defeated, that life can return to some semblance of normal, and your death sends the opposite message. Each one will cry for you, even the strangers. They will wonder in their hearts......how long do we have, when will this happen to us? What can we do? It strikes fear into their hearts.

 I have seen with my own eyes, the terrible pain that suicide leaves behind. I have felt it. My own heart has been ripped from my chest and stomped into the ground by it. I have sat with the mother whose child chose to leave. Seen the pain on the faces of the family, sat with the wife whose husband is gone, sat with the husband whose wife has gone, seen the faces of the little boys, and seen my own face in the mirror. I have questioned myself, and continue to do so to this day. I play out the "I should have said", "I should have done", and the "Oh God why" over and over again.

 Perhaps you are one of those who will take great care in writing out a letter to them, where you will tell them how much you loved them, how none of this is their fault, how it was all you........it does not help. Sure, receiving a letter instead of not receiving one is better, at least they have something to help them process the wrongness of all this, but it will not give them peace, it will not remove their pain, it will not stop the endless questioning.......nothing can remove that pain, the only thing that can make it stop is death...more death. Perhaps your loved ones will seek assistance to quiet their pain, some with prescribed pills, others with self medication. Pain heaped upon pain.

 For all the warfighters that are contemplating suicide. Please stop and think about your brothers and sisters. PTSD and TBI are terrible things, but they are to be fought against, not succumbed to. People are banding together, warfighters are banding together, holding each other up, struggling through the darkness together, AND IT IS WORKING! But every loss wipes out ten success stories. Every loss screams to the wounded, it's not working, its not worth it, just give up. That is the message your death sends to struggling fellow warfighters.

 My words might seem harsh, they are not intended to be. I have a great love for our warfighter community. I have met so many of you, one of you is my own dear son. I have never met a stronger bunch, you are some of the most tenacious, gutsy people I have ever had the honor of knowing. I love you all. These words are not meant to be harsh.

 This morning I sat in my bed, coffee in hand, dog at my side, giving thanks that it is Friday and I was browsing my Facebook news feed. I came across a song posted, and I clicked on the link and listened to a sad haunting melody. I then began to browse the comments and saw a post from a warfighter, asking for an ear. He said he could not go on anymore, that he was thinking always of suicide and of ending his pain. I do not know this man, but in an instant the tears were falling down my cheeks, and my heart was filled with love for him. My prayers began to raise to the heavens for this man, somewhere in America, sitting at his computer last night at around 10pm, telling the world that he was done, he was finished, he could not go on anymore.

 But something else happened within that post, in seconds other warfighters were posting, sending him messages, sending him their phone numbers, begging him to reach out. I do not know the results of those attempts, but I do know that contact was made, and hopefully today that man has been strengthened enough to continue the fight.

 I know its not easy. I have seen firsthand the terrible struggle of PTSD and TBI, I have felt the darkness, I battle the darkness for someone I love right now. I have also seen firsthand the struggles of mental illness, of Bipolar and schizophrenia and depression. I hate these dark things, and I will fight them until the end of my days. They steal life, they steal hope, they steal beauty from this world. But it does not have to be so. We can all band together, fight together, lift up those who have fallen, hold them up until their strength returns to get back into the fight. Push back the darkness, fight it with everything you have in you, and reach out when you cannot fight anymore. There are more people than you know who are standing with you, praying for you...please keep fighting!

 Let us help you, please let us help you, let us all fight together, for a better tomorrow, for renewed hope, for life! Please I beg you, please reconsider. If you are thinking of suicide, if the thought even crosses your mind, please reach out. It is not the answer. It is so terribly painful for so many people, many of them people you may never know. We need your strength, we need your courage, we need you in this fight! So I am asking you, endure the pain, please, endure it in the hopes that it will ease over time, that we will together find ways to control it, ways to push down the darkness. Others have done so, they have come through the long dark valley. Please stay with us, put out your hand and take the hand of another brother or sister and lets walk through this together.

Written from my heart, and with all my love, to all the Warfighters, to their families, and to those who battle mental illness and their families. Standing with you today, and ever day, until the end of my days.

“And he (Nebuchadnezzar) ordered some of the mighty men of his army to bind Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and to cast them into the burning fiery furnace. Then these men were bound in their cloaks, their tunics, their hats, and their other garments and they were thrown into the burning fiery furnace. Because the king's order was urgent and the furnace overheated, the flame of the fire killed those men who took up Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. And these three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, fell bound into the burning fiery furnace.

Then King Nebuchadnezzar was astonished and rose up in haste. He declared to his counselors, “Did we not cast three men bound into the fire?” They answered and said to the king, “True, O king.” He answered and said, “But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.””

Most people know the story of the three Hebrew men, tossed into the furnace for their refusal to bow down and worship a false god; it has always been one of my favorite ones. I cannot count the times I have read this out loud to my sons when they were growing up, or the times I have gone back to it myself for comfort.

This morning was one of those days, and I sat and read this story and something that I had not considered before came to my mind.

Nothing is said about whether or not the three Hebrews also saw the fourth man, the one who was like a son of the gods, and nothing is even said about whether the persons watching saw him or not, the only certain thing is that King Nebuchadnezzar saw him.

Life is like a fiery furnace sometimes. We are bombarded with trials, painful trials, trials that can suck away our strength and our joy. Often in these trials we cannot see clearly. One could assume that these three young men were afraid, sure they spoke with faith and confidence when they refused the kings request to bow to the idol, but they were human, just like us, they had to be fear, and dread, and maybe even some doubt. They did not doubt God, they simply could not have known for certain if God would deliver them this side of life, or on the other. It is also possible that they walked about this fiery furnace with no knowledge of the One who walked with them, the text is not clear on what they saw, only what the king saw. They walked in faith, in the midst of flames, unaware that God Himself walked with them, for the One for appeared like “a son of the gods” was no less than our Lord Jesus Christ. (Look up Christophany.)

When life is hard, when the fires burn high, we can remember our Lord. We are not alone in the furnace. He walks with us, and He will bring us through. I may not be able to see Him, but it is certain that the enemy of my soul sees Him…………and that is enough for me.

We as believers do not walk alone, we are never alone, there is no place and no circumstanced where we should be afraid. We should face adversity, sorrow and even death with the sure knowledge that we are not alone……He walks with us. He has promised that He will never leave us, He will never forsake us and that nothing can separate us from His love and care.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.”

 So let us then be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Let us stand fast and face whatever He allows in our life, face it with faith and courage.

Fight the good fight