sitting with sadness

I heard some bad news a couple of weeks ago.  The kind of news that makes you want to cry.  The kind that pulls up a chair, sits with you, and brings up all sorts of memories, good and bad.  This sad news sat with me until I was not only thinking of that particular news, but many things associated with it.  It brought up terrible things from the past year.  It made me think through things I had hoped were forgotten.

I sat with this sadness for a while, until I started worrying about how sad I was.  With my struggles with depression, I start to worry when I feel on the verge of tears for two weeks.  So, in my weird way, I sat down and started analyzing myself.  Was I depressed?  My sure indicators are that I want to stay away from all. the. people. / run. away.  But I wasn’t doing that.  Instead, I actually told a few people about it.  I told them that it was breaking my heart, and even that it was bringing up other things for me.  The other indicator that I’m depressed is that I’m completely overwhelmed by the thought that nothing will ever be ok.  And I honestly don’t feel that way right now.

So, I said to myself, if you’re not depressed, why are you so sad?

I came to this conclusion.  Some things in life are just overwhelmingly sad.  And its not wrong to feel that way.  It doesn’t even make you depressed.

If you start looking around, the world is a pretty sad place.  You can always find something sad going on around the world with a simple click.  But you don’t even have to look that far.  Its almost guaranteed that someone you know is going through something hard and sad.  For that matter, we often have something going on in our own life!

So how do we sit with this sadness?  How do we acknowledge the sorrow without letting it ruin our lives?

I was reminded of a verse out of II Corinthians 6 this week.  “As sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing.”  Yes, we will always sit with sadness, to varying degrees, but we can always invite rejoicing too.  It feels weird, but they can both sit at the same table.  As Christians we have so much to rejoice in.  Our salvation, the hope of Heaven, the delight of His Presence, the list goes on.

So if this week you find yourself sitting with sadness, that’s ok.  There’s nothing wrong with sadness.  Sit with it.  Feel it.  Allow it to make you more compassionate and soft.  But don’t let it take over your life or make you bitter.  Invite rejoicing to join you at the table.

Notes and Lessons

There has been a great mystery in my life the past six months.  I’m pretty sure the person wanted it to stay that way.

But alas, I am not built for not knowing things.  Seriously.  It drives me around the bend.  I get a little obsessive and I start checking post marks and comparing hand writing.

For the past seven months, someone has been sending me lovely little cards, accompanied by a piece of chocolate, with scriptures written on them.  And not just written, but very nicely done, with loops and swirls and bold and cursive.  Something my handwriting could never achieve!  These verses started coming when everything fell apart last October and continued for six months.  They found homes on my fridge, on my counter, piled up in different places, getting splashed with food, getting read over and over.

I finally figured out who was writing them.  I won’t put her name here, because she obviously doesn’t want to be recognized, but I intend to write her a private message to thank her.  And to tell her to read this blog post.

These verses meant so much to me.  I’ve never had anyone do something like that for me before.  Completely anonymous, purely for encouragement.  I learned a bunch of lessons from this experience, and I hope to keep putting them into practice in my life.

First, she did this for me without knowing the whole situation.  I’m pretty sure at the time, she only knew that I was hurting.  I’ve never told her about what happened, although someone else might have.  But the cards started very quickly, so I doubt she knew.  It didn’t matter to her if I had done something wrong or not, if I was making the right decisions or not, all that mattered was that I was hurting.  She just saw another hurting woman and did something about it.

Second, we were not super close friends, and she reached out anyways.  I love her, and I enjoy every minute we spend together, but it only amounts to a few hours a year.  We don’t talk on the phone, or text, or message, or see each other often.  But that didn’t stop her.  She is a great friend in the truest sense of the word.  She was there for me when there was nothing in this for her.  No recognition, no accolades, no one to see her doing it.  I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found out who it was, because she’s such a loving and giving person.

Third, she used the best form of encouragement possible.  She didn’t send me memes, or platitudes, or quotes, or tell me to keep my chin up.  Just verses.  Carefully chosen to speak to a hurting heart, no matter the situation.  When someone’s life is falling apart, the best thing we can do for them is to keep pointing them to Jesus.  Oh, I need people too, and I was so encouraged that someone thought I was worth that effort!  But in the end, we just need to keep pointing people back to Jesus.

Those little cards made such a difference to me.  I would brighten up every time I would see one come in the mail.  So, thank you, J, for the blessing you were to me, for those precious cards, and for the lessons learned.  I can’t wait to give you a hug in person.


I always think of Gideon as a little scared.

I mean, God had to really convince him to go and fight the Midianites.  Back and forth with the fleece, hiding out in a winepress, Gideon’s beginning doesn’t seem to match his ending.

But right at the beginning of his story is where we find the name of God, Jehovahshalom.  Meaning, The Lord is Peace.  Right when Gideon is choosing to get involved in the battle, you would think he would be thinking about other names, like maybe, the Lord is our banner.  Or something about victory.  But his first impression is peace.

Gideon is hiding in the winepress, threshing his wheat so the Midianites won’t steal it, when the angel of the Lord appears to him and gives him his very first assignment.  When he realizes exactly who is talking to him, I’m guessing he had quite a look on his face because the next words of the story are, “And the Lord said unto him, Peace be unto thee; fear not: thou shalt not die.”  Maybe he meant, you won’t die from the assignment and maybe you won’t die right this second, we don’t know, but either way, it would appear that Gideon is pretty scared right now.

“Then Gideon built an altar there unto the Lord, and called it Jehovahshalom: unto this day it is yet in Ophrah of the Abiezrites.”

Gideon was scared, but willing.  So, in the way of the Old Testament Israelites who wanted to remember major events, he built an altar.  And called it The Lord is Peace.  Peace.  Not victory.  I think that maybe Gideon knew he needed to feel that peace before he could even enter the battle.  In the New Testament we call it the peace that passes understanding.  Even though he was scared and hesitant and later on had to be convinced once again, he wanted to remember that at that moment, he felt peace.  The kind that only comes from God.

God had fully convinced him that he was where he needed to be and doing what he needed to do.  So when the battle got hard, or long, or heartbreaking, or dangerous, or anything else that battles do, he could look back at the altar and know.  The Lord was his peace.

I always thought I knew about that peace that passes understanding.  Until the last two months.  I cannot even tell you how much I’ve learned about and leaned on that peace.  Although, I suppose that is the way of life.  You always think you’ve got it figured out until the next curve ball.  The peace of the Lord has flooded my life in ways I can’t explain.  Its as though I can feel Jehovahshalom standing beside me in the battle.  Reminding me that He is in control and I have nothing to fear.  The battle may be raging, but with Jehovahshalom standing by my side, I can have complete peace in spite of it.  I know the battle the Lord has allowed in my life, I know what He’s asked me to do in the battle, and I feel like I could, with Gideon, build an altar right here in my Ophrah.  Reminding me in the future of the peace God has given with this assignment.

Are you feeling scared today?  Really, can there be many days when everything is going so well we have nothing we could be scared of?  But this is where this name is so important.  Because His peace is what gets us through the battle.  You can trust in Him, Jehovahshalom.



The LORD that Healeth.

This one has been popping up in my study of the names of God but I keep scrolling past it.

Honestly, I struggle with this one.

Next month will be 8 years of chronic pain.  I have asked the Lord a thousand times to fix it.  And He hasn’t.  Frankly, its frustrating.  I asked then if it could at least be diagnosed.  And I’m not.  Its embarrassing to have to explain to people that I can’t do certain things, or admit that I spent the day in bed, or that I couldn’t fall asleep at night from the pain, but I don’t know why.  I have a few close friends that I joke with about my “illness” and we laugh about it being an excuse for everything, but mostly, its just hard.  And I’m not healed.

And what about my friend who was sent home from the hospital to her four kids not being able to walk.  And told that its probably nothing.  Or my friend that just started being a friend but is now dying of cancer.  I’ve been thinking over this name of God in relation to those two women for a while now.  Why aren’t they healed?  Where is the Great Physician in all of this?

Then I started to actually study this out in depth.  Did you know the words “The Great Physician” cannot be found in the Bible?  Um, what?  I’ve been saved since I was a little girl and been studying and teaching the Bible for years and I fully expected that phrase to come up when I typed it in.  Nope.  Not there.  So I looked up physician.  There are actually only 11 verses that have the word physician(s) in them.  The times in the Gospels that Jesus refers to Himself as a physician, He’s talking to the Pharisees and telling them they need healing for their souls.  It actually has nothing to do with the physical body.  One other time He uses the word physician to say that the people are going to eventually tell Him to heal Himself.

Where The LORD that Healeth appears in the Bible is in Exodus 15.  The Israelites had just crossed the Red Sea on dry land.  In typical human fashion, they started complaining.  To be fair, they were in the desert and the water was bitter.  So the Lord told Moses to put a tree in the water and then it was drinkable.  More than that, it was sweet.  Then the Lord says that if they follow His commands, he will not bring on the diseases of the Egyptians and calls Himself the Lord that Healeth.

So where is all this going?  Why does it make a difference if we say the Lord that Healeth or the Great Physician.

Well, maybe it only makes a difference to me, but this study changed my whole thinking on this name.  You see, to me, doctors have failed me.  (If you’re a doctor reading this, I don’t hate you personally, I just dislike your profession.  No offence.)  I have been to doctor after doctor and had test after test and it has done exactly nothing for me.  So when I think of God as the Great Physician, it makes me think of Him as someone who has the ability to heal my body, but just decided not to.

But a healer is totally different.  A healer cares about much more than just the physical body.  He takes into account my emotional health, my mental health, and most importantly, my spiritual health.  And instead of just deciding not to heal my body, He is instead choosing not to heal it because,

He’s healing something else.

But He is always healing.

This is so profound for me because instead of focusing on what is not healing, I can focus on what is.

Because He is always working to heal me.

In some way.



Does life ever feel like a battle to you?

It does to me.  I get tired, I feel alone, the battle seems endless.  Sometimes it seems as if I could comfort myself with the thought that it will be a short battle, so I’ll just “get through it”.  Other times, long battles come into my life, like eight years of chronic pain, and I realize that I need more help than to just, “get through it”.  In fact, getting through it seems impossible.

The name Jehovahnissi appears only one time in the Bible.  The story is Moses and Joshua fighting against the Amalekites.  You may be familiar with the part of the story where Aaron and Hur hold up Moses’ arms so that Joshua could win the battle.  But this name of God comes after the victory is won.

At the end of the battle, the Amalekites are defeated and Israel is rejoicing.  But God commands Moses to remember what happened here.  To remember the battle fought and won.  He is to write it down, rehearse it in the ears of Joshua, and they are to specifically remember that God has completely defeated their enemies.

Then Moses does something interesting.  He builds an altar.  Altars in the Bible were used to either worship or remember.  Moses knows that its important for the Israelities to remember this victory.  And he calls the name of the altar Jehovahnissi, the Lord our Banner.

Why banner?

Banner here gives the idea of a pole with a flag attached, carried during the battle.  The job of this banner was to essentially rally the troops.  It gave them something to look at, a visual reminder of who they were fighting for and why they were fighting.  It gave them a sense of fighting together, that they were not alone.  There was a great cause, a team.  That banner waving in the wind was a focal point that the soldiers looked to when they needed encouragement.

Here Moses is reminding the soldiers that the Lord is our banner.  It is Him that we fight for, Him that we look to.  He is our source of encouragement in the battle.  He is our encouragement because it is through Him that our battles are won.

Have you won a battle?  May I encourage you to build an altar?  There are Joshuas fighting right now who need to see an altar and need a Moses.  Someone to rehearse in their ears the name Jehovahnissi.  To remind them to look up and see the Lord our banner.  To focus on Him in the battle.

Are you in the middle of a battle?  Look up.  Always up.  Imagine in the sky there is a banner waving.  A tangible reminder of the Lord.  That He is with us, fighting for us.  That we never have to face a battle alone. Jehovahnissi.el-roi-2



Do you ever feel that way?  No one sees you?  No one knows you?

I do.  Tucked away in my little corner of the world.  I wonder if anyone sees how hard I worked today.  Sees that my heart was broken.  That I wasn’t sure how to deal with the life change.  I wonder if anyone sees that good decision I made.  Or even that bad one.  Is there anyone who even sees me enough to know what’s going on in my life?  Or am I invisible?  Or even worse, is the real me invisible?  Do they see me and judge me, but don’t really know me?  Don’t really see my soul?

When I first started looking at the names of God, this one jumped out immediately.

El-Roi – the God who sees.

The first time its used in the Bible is when Hagar talks to God.

Hagar.  Out in the desert.  Completely invisible.  Scorned and cast aside by those who should have loved her.  Those who should have taken care of her.  It says that Sarai dealt hardly with her.  All of this after Abraham and Sarai had wronged her!

Hagar was at the worst point in her life so far.  Pregnant and alone.  Out of options.  All of this not of her own doing.  After all, it was Abraham and Sarai who hatched this grand plan.  And then expected Hagar to deal with the consequences.

She stops at a well and an angel of the Lord comes to her.  Tells her what to do.  Gives her some promises.  Then says these comforting words…because the Lord hath heard thy affliction.

She responds by calling God El-Roi, Thou God seest me.  You know, if you read Hagar’s story, it doesn’t really get that much better for her.  But in all she went through, one thing stuck out to her.  That God saw her.  Really saw her.  And her affliction.  She didn’t call Him Provider or Saviour.  What really comforted her was that God saw her.

And God sees me.

And God sees you.

Even when things are hard.

Even when people misunderstand you.

God sees you.  And loves you.

God sees your broken heart, your rejection, your insecurities, your intentions, your hopes, your dreams, your defeats.  He sees the way that person treated you, your labour of love, your faithfulness in the small.

Do you feel invisible today?  Because you’re not.  Be comforted that our God is El-Roi, the God who sees.




Yesterday I dropped the kids off at basketball camp, walked back in the door, saw the work, and my only thought was, run.

Some days I call it depression, some days I just say, I don’t want to do today, and some days I want to run.  I stood there and every fibre of my being, every desire of my heart told me to run away.  I know there is no perfect place but I still long to go looking for it.  I imagine things would be better if I was by myself, or if I was on a beach, or if I could just go somewhere with no work and netflix for a day.  I think the official term is escapism, but I was fixated on one word.


Things have been a little rough lately.  There have been some serious relationship problems.  Some deep thoughts and questions I’ve been having.  Some planning for the future.  Renovating.  Moving last week.  Still renovating and unpacking.  No stove.  Pain levels creeping up.  The biggest and busiest camps starting next week.  I stood there in the middle of the mess that is my house and wanted nothing so badly as to


Between my mood and my migraine, I spent most of the day in bed.  And by most of the day, I mean except driving the kids back and forth and feeding people three times and switching a couple of loads.  You know.  The essentials.  I knew the best thing for me was rest and so I didn’t run.  I stayed.  I didn’t fight amazingly well, but I didn’t run either.  I rested and chatted with Michael about how I was feeling.  When I woke up this morning, I rushed around getting the kids off to basketball camp, we jumped in the car, and then it was like God spoke to me.


Go ahead and run.

Just run to me.

I started praying, but words were hard to form.  I just had this image of Jesus standing there with his arms outstretched, waiting for me to run to Him instead of run away.  I told Him I was completely overwhelmed, discouraged, but still, just this image.  I finally in my mind’s eye just ran to Him.  I could give you details on how He worked out so many things to help me in just one day, but I’ll just leave it at one word.  Peace.  Peace has flooded my heart today.

Since that moment in the car, this old song that I haven’t sung or heard in years kept playing through my head.

I run to the Rock of my salvation, run to the Stone that the builders rejected, run to the Mountain and the Mountain stands by me.  When the earth all around is sinking sand, on Christ the solid rock I stand, when I need a shelter, when I need a friend, I go to the Rock.

The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.  Proverbs 18:10


Just run in the right direction.


Not Exalted

Some people are really good at realizing what is truly of worth in life.  They value relationships over doing, know how to measure worth, think eternally, know more about being a good christian instead of just trying to check things off a list.

I am not one of those people.

I used to always think that if I was busy enough, doing enough things, doing the right things, volunteering for everything, keeping all the balls in the air while keeping the joy of the Lord, that meant I was a successful Christian.

Then I got sick.  After a few years the pain got intense and I could no longer keep all the balls in the air.  I had to stop volunteering for everything.  Some days I stayed on the couch all day and “did” absolutely nothing.  My pain affected more than my body.

My ego was crushed.

How would people know I was a great Christian?  More importantly, how would I know?  There’s no published check list for people in their early 30s who should have boundless energy but have days they can’t function.

If we go back to our study in II Corinthians 12, Paul says that one reason his thorn in the flesh was given to him was so that he would not be exalted.

“And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.”

Let me tell you, it works.

It taught me that there is nothing good that I can do outside of God.

Paul makes it clear as the chapter goes on that he wants God to get the glory.  I loved serving God and probably would have told you that I was giving God all the glory, but I honestly never really thought much about needing God’s help to serve Him.  The days that forced me to pray, “Dear God, please help me be able to walk as many hours as I need today” showed me exactly how weak I was and how much I needed to depend on God.  I still try to do as much as I can for God, and since I’m having a great year health wise its been a little easier, but I still have enough pain to remind me who I need.  Sometimes giving God the glory is not just a public thing like saying “praise the Lord” when someone likes your special music.  For me, it had to become much more an attitude of the heart.  A realization of who is really doing the work in my life.

It taught me to be more humble.

I still have a long way to go!  So, so long.  As I’ve mentioned before, I spent some time saying to myself, “I am a servant, I am a servant”.  I think it must not be working well because I have a friend who added, “servanthood and humility”.  I even got sent a reference:)  By the way, I’m giving this friend a hard time, but its amazing to have a friend to work on spiritual things together with.  Humility started its work in me just because my ego was crushed, but one way that pain has taught me to be more humble is how I look at others.  Most people have no idea on the days that I can’t get out of bed, but I would never have looked at others and wondered what was going on in their lives either.  Its amazing what pain in our own lives can do for our compassion for others!  I now know what it is to not be able to do life because of pain or depression.  There are so many things that go on in others hearts, minds, and bodies that I have no idea about, yet its so easy to judge them based on what I see a few minutes a week.

Pain, such a love hate relationship.  If I could choose to wake up tomorrow and never have pain again, I would.  But the growth that comes from pain is life changing in a way that nothing else can be.  Just one more lesson from II Corinthians 12 to come.

Lessons From Pain

Lessons from Pain – Not a Fool

Its commonly accepted that teenagers are supposed to be know-it-alls and foolish, but I find its a bit different when you meet someone who is now well into their 20s and still thinks they know it all and are still foolish.  The one is easy to live with, the other, not so much.  I’ve found myself thinking, they need life to knock them around a little.  Problem being, I’m pretty sure I was one of those people!  By my mid 20s, life had already knocked me around a little, but my dutch stubbornness was showing.  I was very black and white, had little compassion, and was far too focused on the here and now.  As I started to learn a few lessons from pain, and to be truly thankful for its role in my life, II Corinthians 12 jumped out at me.

Throughout his writing Paul often lists his accomplishments juxtaposed by his faults and his belief that he was the chief of sinners.  But in this chapter, he gets real about a hardship in his life, his “thorn in the flesh”.  He’s honest in saying that he wishes he didn’t have it, had asked God to take it away, but he sees the benefits in his life.  The first benefit is listed in verse 6.

“For though I would desire to glory, I shall not be a fool; for I will say the truth: but now I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth me to be, or that he heareth of me.”

Paul saw this thorn in the flesh, this pain of some sort in his life, as a deterrent to becoming a fool.  It kept him from being a know-it-all who thought very highly of himself.

There are many types of fools in the Bible, but the lesson that I learned from pain was to not be a fool that only focuses on the temporal instead of the eternal.  Like the foolish virgins in Matthew 25 who were not prepared for the coming of the Bridegroom, the rich man in Luke 12 was a fool because he was only focused on the present and temporal.

And he spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully:  And he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?  And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods.  And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.  But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?  So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.

There is something about pain that makes you long for Heaven.  I honestly forget what its like to live without being in pain every day, but I can sure dream about Heaven!  Of course there are many more important and spiritual things to look forward to, but that’s definitely close to the top of the list for me!  Its so easy to forget that we are strangers and pilgrims here.  So easy to be constantly worried about the temporal instead of building treasures in Heaven.  Its so hard to keep our hearts focused on what really matters and sometimes we need a little nudge to remind us what life is really about, why we’re really here, and that this is not our home.

I love these verses in Hebrews 11, the great “faith chapter”.

“These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.  For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.  And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned.  But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly”

They didn’t just believe in the promise of Heaven, they were persuaded, embraced it, confessed it, and were mindful of it.  If only every day, I could be persuaded to embrace the eternal.  Pain has taught me to desire a better country, and for that, I am grateful.

Lessons From Pain-2

Lessons From Pain Intro

Six years and eight months ago I woke up with a tingling sensation in my left hand.  When it didn’t pass for the whole weekend, I made an appointment with my doctor.  Thinking it might be carpal tunnel, even though it didn’t fit that very well, we made an appointment for the first of many, many tests.  By the time I had that first test the tingling had spread all the way up my arm.  In the next several months it continued to spread until a year later I had tingling on the entire left side of my body.  Its a very strange feeling.  My left eyeball tingles but my right one doesn’t.  The left side of my tongue tingles but the right side doesn’t.  Around six months into the process, the tingling started to be accompanied by pain.  I have three types of pain.  General muscle pain like the kind that happens when you do a new workout, sharp shooting pain that is completely random, and a bone pain that literally feels like someone is taking a tool and scraping the bone.  Thankfully that one only happens in my arm and fingers.  All of this is completely limited to the left side of my body.  By the time a year had passed I was on painkillers twice a day.  The doctors were sure that I had MS because it was limited to the left side, but could find no evidence of it.  I had three MRIs (which are horrible torture devices), countless blood tests, brain tests, and a horrible muscle test where they stick two needles in you and send a shock through one and use the other one to measure the reaction.  Being sick is not very fun.  The worst part is that over six years later, I still have no diagnosis.  I’ve actually had three doctors tell me that I am just plain weird.  Yup.  That’s pretty reassuring.  Years of tests and constant disappointments took their toll.  It was a constant emotional roller coaster or thinking that I was finally going to have some answers, but finding none.  A couple of years ago I stopped going to the doctor all together.  I still have no answers.  But at year two I started seeing a homeopath.  I am currently on no medication and am starting to now actually see some upward progress.  For years we were just able to control everything and stop it from getting worse but with the introduction of an osteopath, I’m starting to actually make progress towards getting better.

Being in pain every minute of every day is a life changer.  There are days that it hardly affects my life, but I have spent many days relegated to the couch.  There have been times that I pilled up pillows in specific ways because I was in so much pain that the couch felt too hard.  Some days I can get on the floor and play with my kids, other days I can’t get out of bed.  I’ve learned to regulate my life to avoid episodes.  I have to get the proper amount of sleep all the time, exercise is a huge help, and I try to avoid stress and over scheduling.  Although with three kids and ministry, that’s completely impossible at times.  Living in pain becomes a way of life.  I had to quit studying piano and I just know that after a trip to Chicago, I’m going to need a few days to recover.  While its not fun, and I’ve had to give some things up, I fully expected that at the rate I was going I would need assistance walking around year 4-5, so I am so incredibly thankful that whatever this is has slowed down and I can still live a mostly normal life.

My pain is physical, but everyone has pain.  Just because everyone’s isn’t physical or every day, doesn’t mean that everyone doesn’t experience a great deal of pain in their lives.  Because of the nature of mine, I’ve done a lot of study about the lessons I can learn from pain.  Mostly because I was really hoping if I hurried up and learned the lessons, God would take it away!  But He hasn’t, and I’ve had time to learn a lot of lessons.  So I wanted to start a blog series on the lessons from pain.  I think that lessons from pain can apply to anyone in any situation because lets face it, life is painful.  No one’s life is as rosy as is appears to others.  If there would be any silver lining to pain, it would be to be a blessing to others.  We’ll walk through some Bible verses, learn from some Bible characters, and just enjoy a good study.

Lessons From Pain