Stripped: Trusting God When He Allows Others to Hurt YouSample

In 2020, after the two-week lockdown most cities enforced due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I traveled to South Carolina to visit my parents. My daughters and I were eager to spend time with our family and exit the confines of what, after just a few days, seemed like a shrinking house.

There was a mountain biking trail a few minutes from my parent’s house, so after settling in, I went to the trail. Although I consider myself an average cyclist, I had never been mountain biking. From the look of this family-friendly park, I was sure the mountain biking trail would be a breeze.

While warming up on a paved loop near the parking lot, one of the pedals broke in two, leaving me with a metal stick the size of my index finger for a pedal. Pedaling was impossible. Frustration poked its familiar head into my mind. Entertainment options were scarce due to pandemic restrictions and right as I was about to pedal my way into positivity, I was forced to cancel.

Suddenly, I remembered my eleven-year old’s bicycle was in the van. It wasn’t suitable for my five-feet-six-inch body, but I was determined to mountain bike that day. So, like a circus clown on a tiny bike, I headed into the woods. My knees complained instantly, but I forced myself to push through—how hard could it be? Turns out, very hard.

Although mountain biking was still pedaling on a bike, the terrain made all the difference. There were unexpected holes and elements to avoid, tree roots making me pound the cement block the bike manufacturer called a seat (harder by the minute), sudden slippery curves due to loose pebbles or dirt, and steep hills that I simply could not climb. The bicycle was so small that if I planted my feet on the ground, I was basically standing up. I did a huge portion of the trail looking like Roald Dahl’s Big Friendly Giant walking with a bike between the legs.

I tried to minimize my foolishness by reassuring myself this would make a good story someday. But more than a story, it was an illustration God gave me, a very meaningful analogy.

After I made it out of the trail, I bought new pedals and late at night, surrounded by enthusiastic mosquitoes, fixed my bike. With my new-found commitment and sore muscles, I went back the next day. It was less difficult because I knew what to expect and where the tricky parts were. Although I walked my bike in several parts of the trail, it was an enjoyable ride. Having a properly-sized bike turned out to be a game changer. Who knew, right?

In a similar way, what I was facing in my life during those years, was a very difficult trail. Mountain-biking hard. As I called out to Jesus, desperately trying to find answers and make sense of the searing, constant pain, God taught me, through Scripture, principles that would slowly help me reach the other side. Principles that, like a proper bike and gear for a mountain biking trail, sustained me across the rocky, disastrous season I was facing.

If you are reading this plan, it is likely you are going through a path of obstacles, terrifying bends, and endless dark woods. You struggle to trust God because it’s hard to reconcile His love with the pain that someone caused you. Deep in your heart and mind you wonder why, if He loves you, He would allow you to go through what you’ve experienced.

You may be a follower of Jesus watching from the sidelines, hesitant to go fully after Him because you feel He has rejected you, forgotten you, or does not listen or love you equally to other believers. You believe God’s goodness, peace, and power are real and available… just not to you.

Or you may have never opened your heart to Jesus precisely because of the things that happened to you. You want to believe in the possibility of having a relationship with God, but are not convinced it is attainable for you. You wonder if it’s worth following a God who allows pain in the world and in your life. Nonetheless, the challenges of living in a fallen world make you yearn for a place of rest, a place where you can find healing, love, and life. It’s a dichotomy: desiring a relationship which you repel at the same time due to circumstances that have crushed your hope and spirit.

Is it possible to accept the message of a Savior that promises new life, hope, transformation, water for your thirsty soul, and forgiveness while at the same time questioning your circumstances and life story? Yes, it’s possible. We don’t need to have everything figured out in order to walk with Him.

Despite having gone through much pain, I have known the love of a heavenly Father who embraces me, heals me, and opens my eyes to new possibilities through His son, Jesus, and offers me comfort, guidance, and daily intimacy through His Holy Spirit.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers you seek. I know the path is excruciatingly hard. I know it’s hard to believe again and to continue your faith journey without finding answers to your questions. But I also know from experience that traversing those seasons of life is exponentially harder if you don’t have the proper vehicle or tools to get you to the other side. It’s like mountain biking on a kiddie bike. It can be done, but it will be significantly more arduous than with the ideal bicycle.

The lessons God taught me through years of brokenness and deep pain and darkness sustained me and enabled me to survive and make it to the end of the trail. The difficult path continued (what happened wasn’t magically erased), but I wasn’t relying on a tiny, flimsy support to get me through; I had His Word and presence.

Some questions remain unanswered, but what I discovered in Scripture was enough to progressively heal and lead me out of the desert onto new paths and blessings. What I learned brought me to a deeper understanding and was sufficient for me to choose to leave my questions behind and trust God again, not only with my future, but also my past, knowing that His ways are much higher than my ways, and His thoughts much higher than mine.

I don’t know the details of your story, but I’m sure it is or has been mountain-biking hard. Some paths lead us into scary forests of uncertainty, loneliness, and despair. I understand what it’s like, because I have camped there. But His love found and strengthened me to keep pedaling through the tears and heartache. I can now confidently say that despite what has been done to you, there can be beauty and blessings through and at the end of the trail.

He is the God who fights your battles, who fashions beauty out of ashes, who restores what has been destroyed, and breathes life into dry bones. He is the masterful story-teller that weaves our lives and stories in a magnificent tapestry, and a couturier or tailor that prepares new clothes for us when we have been stripped. Open your heart to His invitation to follow Him whatever life may bring. There is no better place to be. There is no safer refuge. He will sustain you through the pain, He will guide you through the night.

Prayer

"God, I come to you in my brokenness. I have suffered deeply and it’s hard to understand why things like these happen if you truly love us. I want to trust you, to believe you have promises of a new, abundant life for me. It feels like I am in a pit, an empty cistern where there is no water. But you said that whoever drinks from your water will never be thirsty again. I ask that you speak to me, show me how you can work despite what was done to me, and to heal my heart and mind as I seek you. Be near to me and guide me with your words and your Spirit. In Jesus’ name, amen.”