Despair can lead a person to dark places, to a deep hole cut off from daylight and feeling the warmth of the sun. In its chilly, damp pit hope is lost. And some who find themselves in such a place feel abandoned as death is a welcomed alternative to living.
Sometimes we find ourselves in despair and without hope because we’re susceptible to anxiety and depression. Many of us fight those battles on a regular basis, and in battle fatigue our inner self cry out from the pit. Other times we find ourselves disoriented because circumstances beyond our control rip apart our world. We thought we were in control of our own destiny until “destiny” took control of us. A job loss, a diagnosed illness, a betrayal of a friend, a pandemic. Any of these, and more, can strip away hope, layer by layer, leaving you in the depths of despair.
While we suffer, we tell ourselves that those who are more spiritual and are grounded firmly in faith never had to endure what the common folk endure. They’re immune. They’re exempt from suffering. The spiritual waters run so deep that pain never penetrates those fathoms. Or maybe their pedestal stands above the agony.
Enter the Apostle Paul, maybe one of the most important leaders of the early church. Because most of his letters survived, he has shaped so much of the church’s belief system (i.e., theology). Because he’s an apostle who received visions from Jesus and planted churches all over the Mediterranean, we’ve glossed over much of who he really was. And what was he? He was a wounded warrior, just like us.
When God called him, he wanted Paul to know that his calling meant suffering for the name of Jesus (Act. 9:16). Not just a little suffering, but enough to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. Paul’s affliction list in 2 Corinthians 11 is more than a simple list of what he’s endured. He wears his suffering proudly against those who are shamed for what they never endure. Its evidence that he’s nothing more than a broken clay pot held together by the grace and mercy of God (2 Cor. 4:7-12; 12:7-10). God does not reject Paul because he suffers. No. He embraces Paul through his suffering.
Held together by God doesn’t exempt an apostle from feelings of despair. Thus, Paul informs the Corinthians of what unfolded while he was in Asia. While he avoids the details, he’s specific about his emotions. He endured hardship and suffered. The pressure was so great that he despaired even of life (2 Cor. 1:8-9). Whatever Paul was facing, the burden was so excessive he wanted out. Like an inmate on death row, he lost all his appeals.
But God. But God who raises the dead. But God who raises the dead delivered him from his own death (2 Cor. 1:9-10). God delivered again, and he delivered big. And Paul interpreted this salvation as a reminder to stop relying on our self and keep relying on God (2 Cor. 1:9b). Coming full circle, not only is the Apostle Paul facing suffering, but his ministry is defined by suffering, even though he nearly buckled under the pressure. In part, because even Paul, like us, tended to trust his own abilities rather than trust God.
So here we are, for many of us, sitting in the midst of despair. It’s a dark place, so dark that daylight and the warmth of the sun cannot penetrate where you sit. And you feel alone. All alone. Chilled in a damp hole. Maybe you find yourself in the pit because life throws every dirty play against you. Or maybe you find yourself in the pit because a pandemic has inflamed your worst fears. An uncontrollable disease has the power to undermine an economy (i.e., your economy) while fueling more civil unrest.
Sure, we could give up and walk away. Others have done it. But we won’t. And instead of leaning into it, we take Paul’s advice and lean onto him. While we’re sitting in the pit, we keep relying and trusting God. We trust the God who raises the dead, because what else have you to do anyway?
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)