Tomorrow Needs You (eBook)

Sometimes It’s Hard to Trust God

It was January 15, 2018. My dad had just died January 23, 2017—a year before.

How do you tell a seven-year-old girl that her dad died today? You do it knowing that you will never be the same person again—that it will forever mark you.

Some todays can be traumatic. Days like those can leave you wondering if God exists and whether God cares. Subconsciously, we are convinced that todays are just opportunities for tragedies.

I love God, but sometimes I don’t trust him.

Have you had that thought before? I do appreciate all that God does. I feel his grace and his acceptance of me. I understand his forgiveness, and I know that he loves me. But sometimes I don’t trust him. I don’t trust that he will keep me safe, that he will protect my family, that he will keep me from harm’s way. I don’t trust that he will let me know what’s happening or be there when I need him the most.

There is a story in the Bible in which a man named Lazarus is sick. His sisters sent word to Jesus that if he doesn’t show up soon Lazarus might die. Jesus waits for days before he heads to see Lazarus. On his way, he is confronted by one of the sisters.

“Lord,” . . . “if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” To which Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:21, 25-26).

This is one of those stories that reminds me that Jesus continues to make room for doubt in our lives. Doubt does not need to lead to a disbelief in God’s ability, but rather it can lead to a deeper belief in God’s character. So I embrace my doubt at these times knowing that God and I are about to get closer as we wrestle. Jesus in this story shows us that God doesn’t remove doubt by answering all our questions but rather by drawing near to us. It’s not the absence of uncertainty but rather the proximity of his presence that helps us in our doubt.

Our todays dare us to trust again.

From Coping to Creating

My coping mechanism is watching The Office and eating a particular kind of tortilla chips from Target. They are the yellow corn chips, not the blue or the white—the ones in the yellow bag. They are incredible. If you know, you know (IYKYK). One day my son said to me, “When you keep watching the same show and eating the same chips, you are managing anxiety.”

My son is right. We can’t keep coping; we have to start creating. Why do we keep watching the same shows on Netflix? There are so many shows on multiple streaming outlets. Could it be that there are too many options? Or is it that we are trying to escape reality for a minute? Do we desperately need relief from the weight of the life we are living? Disappointment, frustration, sadness, and worry each has a weight to it. And when it gets heavy we live our todays only to find relief. We distract ourselves with pleasure of any kind.

Today is waiting for you to show up. As Jesus said in John 9:4, the daylight is temporary; night is coming, and we have work to do today. What is keeping you from today? Are you running out the clock by wasting time, or are you making the time to do what needs to be done today? The Scriptures tell us in Lamentations 3:23 that God’s blessings are new every day. So your every day has the potential to be a new today. Regardless of our failures or losses, we can gain ground today.

Posttraumatic Growth

It has been very challenging to have a Middle Eastern background and start a church in the South. I’ve heard a lot of outrageous opinions and been called some pretty off-the-wall things, but I never realized how hard it would be for people to attend a church led by a Pakistani, former Muslim man. An example of the kinds of conversations I have is the time that I reached out to a volunteer and said: “Hey, I’ve noticed you’ve been volunteering for a while. I really do appreciate that you’re out here in the foyer helping people with coffee, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the auditorium.”

I didn’t mean to be this forward, but he had been attending Mosaic, the church I lead, for a while now. The man said: “Yeah, actually I tried to go into the auditorium a couple of times but I just can’t do it. It’s just that I served in the Afghanistan war, and people who looked like you were the enemy. I’ve had some near-death experiences of being peppered with gunfire by people who look like you. So don’t take it the wrong way, I just can’t be in an enclosed space with you.”

Wow! I had never heard that before! The man in the lobby admittedly suffered from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). According to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), PTSD

You might be very familiar with PTSD. Either you struggle with it or have loved ones that do. But have you heard of posttraumatic growth (PTG)?

Aamer is the only Pakistani-Korean guy I know. He might be the only one in the world. He is a fellow CrossFitter and is married to the spunkiest Palestinian lady I know, Shadia. By the time this book comes out, they will have had beautiful twin boys. One day after a workout, Aamer and I began talking about PTG.

“Yeah, I thought I would be in the military for life,” Aamer said. But that thought changed one day when, while his unit was clearing a town, a bomb blew off. He almost broke his neck and...