What Remains

 "And be sure of this; I am with you always, even to the end of the age." Matthew 11:20

You cannot go through life, even as a believer, and not suffer loss. Sometimes devastating loss. Losses can traumatize, paralyze, and cripple us. Losses can hold us captive. They can form prison cells that we never leave. Yet, as one person put it, we can get past what we cannot get over.

In my prayer journal I have written down an exhortation from a source I cannot remember. It says in essence that in the midst of loss, even deeply painful loss, we must not be trapped in focusing on what we've lost, but must focus instead on what remains.

I think I have the "right" to speak on this as one who has suffered a great deal of loss in my journey with Him. All of it was painful, but not all of it was bad. Some things in our life need to go, to be removed. That's part of the journey of faith. However, there are other losses that seem to make no sense. Things that are cherished. The death of loved ones. Of professions and ministries. Of marriages and relationships. The pain can be crushing. We must grieve them, but we cannot be held prisoner by them. Too often, we are. I know. I was.

Perhaps one of the most crippling losses I suffered was in my ministry. I planted a church in 1992, and the first years were exhilarating, with growth and excitement. I had labored hard, but it was not my labor but His that brought it about. I was rejoicing in my ministry. Then, in 1995, it all began to change. I was in a highly transient area. Many of my people, very good people, were being transferred and moving to other places, and it was happening all at once. I had been harboring dreams of an ever expanding ministry, reaching more and more people. Now it all seemed to be crashing down, and I couldn't understand why. Why would the Lord, who had engineered it all, now allow all of this? I sank into a kind of despair, and I couldn't get my mind and heart off of what I'd lost. It lasted for nearly two years. Then the Lord confronted me with that quote from above. I was mourning what was gone, but I had no joy in what remained. I mourned the lost blessings but was oblivious to the blessings that remained.

What remained was a core of people dedicated to Him, to His church, and to my leadership. Yet, I had not seen this and I lacked gratitude for it. Worst of all, I realized that my despondency likely caused me to miss blessings that He had for me but that had gone unnoticed. With that, I began to heal over the losses and once more have hope over the future.

As I said, we will experience loss. It will be painful. Take the time to grieve, but don't end up living there. Rejoice in what remains. Rejoice that the greatest truth of what remains is that He, Jesus Christ, remains.

The wine only appears to be gone. His best wine is yet to come. Press on.

Blessings,
Pastor O