Posted on by Delbert Tritsch

The Darkest Part of the Night

“Thus, as it is always darkest just before the Day dawneth, so God useth to visite his servants with greatest afflictions, when he intendeth their speedy advancement.”1 These words penned by the English preacher, Thomas Fuller, have stayed the destabilized and encouraged the discouraged. They have imparted a new paradigm to hopeless souls as those individuals were awakened to an unrealized simplicity they immediately understood and embraced.

Perhaps, your thinking was transformed when you first heard the night is darkest just before the dawn. You were reassured that a better day was about to break forth on your dark night and dispel your woes. You were enlivened enough to continue your struggle a little longer. When that period of darkness ended (assuming it has), the duration from your mental revolution to the realization of your dawn became inconsequential. With the night behind you, it felt shorter than when it had enveloped you.

Disappointingly, the doctrine of darkest night-ends is somewhat tomfoolery. Dismissing moonlight and artificial light, the darkest part of the night is not just before dawn; it is the middle of night. Sunset occurs when the sun finally dips below the horizon, and sunrise when it crests. Twilight is from sunset to dusk and dawn to sunrise. It is the time when sunlight is present in the sky even though the sun is below the horizon. Civil twilight occurs when the sun is from just below the horizon to six degrees below it. Nautical twilight is longer for when the sun is up to twelve degrees below the horizon. Astronomical twilight is when the sun is as much as eighteen degrees below the horizon. The farther the sun is from the horizon, the less sunlight reaches the sky. Therefore, the darkest part of the night is when the sun is at its farthest point from the horizon at the middle of the night.

The message that an end to trouble is just ahead intoxicates many beleaguered minds. Well-meaning counselors and ministers preach this promising sermon to eager audiences. Charlatans also preach this message endearing followers to themselves to gain influence and wealth. But we are simply not promised an end to suffering in this life. Granted, life’s ebbs and flows offer seasons of rest for most of us. But some struggles for some people remain till death.

Perhaps, that time just before twilight seems darkest because the entire night has been endured. But the part of the night that must feel the darkest to many is that lengthy part after they were told the dawn is a moment away when, in fact, half of the night yet remained. To be handed a hope that sifts between one’s fingers like sand as the night crawls forward must shroud the mind with a darkness greater than to face the night alone.

Some are at the darkest part of their night, and it’s at the point furthest from dusk and dawn. The light they desire to see is not about to shine in a moment. Much of their long and dark night remains to be endured. A false hope that their suffering will end momentarily when, in fact, it will not end for some time only makes their night harder. They don’t need to be told it’s about to get better. They need to be shown a better Light—One that does not shine based on circumstance. While we’re in the world, we can succumb to the suffering of the night forgetting that we are the light of the world. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life” (Joh. 8:12). When you have Jesus, you have the Light; and you will not walk in darkness even in the longest, darkest night. And because you have Jesus, He said, “Ye are the light of the world” (Ma. 5:14). When you understand that Jesus will be with you through your night, your circumstantial darkness cannot overwhelm you because your night is lighted by Him.

But so many don’t know the Light, and they don’t have the Light within them. And their night is long and dark. And I may do them more harm than good by telling them the night is almost over when they’ve just reached the middle of their suffering. The truth is that this night will pass eventually, but another night will come. And the answer is not to wait for the day, but the answer is to learn how to thrive in the night. They need the Light, and the best thing you or I can do for them is to join them in their darkness and shine the Light there.

Perhaps, saying a prayer for them and believing for their miracle isn’t all we should do. We can go by giving for many people and places, but everyone of us must give by going somewhere and to someone. There are people in the darkest part of their night who don’t need your words or money; they need your presence. They don’t need you to tell them things are going to get easier. They need you to be the Light in their night.

  1. A Pisgah-Sight of Palestine and the Confines Thereof, with the History of the Old and New Testament acted thereon. 1650. https://exhibits.stanford.edu/renaissance-exploration/catalog/fg622vf3455. p 229. ↩︎
Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

The Queen and the Pauper

On September 8, 2022, the shocking news of Queen Elizabeth II’s death rippled throughout the world. Even as a citizen of another country whose life had never been personally influenced in any way by her Majesty, I gasped when I read the headline on my phone. I immediately stopped what I was doing and told my three homeschool girls the historic news. I even did some brief teaching about the royal family and lines of succession. Within minutes, every nation on every continent was made aware of the end of Britain’s longest reigning monarch.

Joining the millions watching her funeral procession live and world-wide, I had this thought. My two and a half years experience as a hospice nurse taught me quite a bit about family dynamics at the time of a loved one’s passing. When it comes to friends’ and families’ responses to grief, I have seen it all on nearly every level. I have seen overwhelming support, to where I could barely enter a room to care for my patient at the end of their life due to the massive numbers of people gathered. And I have also witnessed total neglect and abandonment, where family could not be reached at any number. I have been the only person in the room as they took their last breath, holding their hand, and telling them they were not alone. I have placed a phone at the ear of a dying loved one so that a relative who lived far away who was unable to come in time could tell them of their love and how much they will be missed. I have also been on the phone with such relatives, asking if they wanted to say their goodbyes, and being told in no uncertain terms they couldn’t care less. Bitterness and unforgiveness have a way of rearing their ugly heads at the time of death.

The memory of those times spurred me to do a quick search. It’s estimated that approximately 40,000 people lie unclaimed in morgues across the United States alone—people who have died without friends, family, or any person at all to contact about their death. These forgotten end up in a pauper’s grave, most without a name, just a number on a crude, wooden box: the homeless drug addict on the street, the abandoned elderly left to die alone in a cheap apartment complex, those without personal connections of any kind, the unwanted.

I watched the Queen’s hearse—pristine and covered in flowers and flanked by guards on all sides in their finest military regalia—drive meticulously down the paved road lined by thousands on both sides, each with a cell phone in their hand held high trying to capture the moment. I saw the coffin draped in the royal standard, topped with a wreath of the finest blooms and foliage cut from the gardens of Buckingham Palace, as well as the Imperial State Crown, the Orb, and the Scepter. As I took all of this in, the words of the apostle Paul came to my mind where he admonished a young Timothy, “For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.” (1Ti. 6:7) Then I thought of the lonely and unnamed lying cold and forgotten in a body bag on a metal tray with only a numbered toe tag. I realized in that instant, they are no longer the Queen or the pauper, but simply the dead.

The moment Queen Elizabeth stepped into eternity, she stood on the same plane as Jane Doe from the streets. Their is no rank in death. There is no hierarchy in the hereafter. We are all one and the same, and we all carry with us the one thing that is allowed when we step outside of time: our soul. Each of us has a divine appointment. There is nothing and no-one that can change our fate. Our destiny is death. It’s every bit a promise to us as the promise of the love of God. We are not promised tomorrow, but we are promised an eternity somewhere. The location of our forever home is completely up to us.

All of the pomp and ceremony of the most elaborate and widely watched funeral in the world did nothing for Her Majesty as she entered the portals of eternity. The days of mourning by her country and commonwealth, the hours of procession, the syllabus of events that had been carefully planned out and edited since 1969 offered nothing to the Queen herself. It all became, as James spoke of, a “vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then fadeth away” (Ja. 4:14). She was born to life of privilege and service, yet she died just like anyone else.

Regardless of who you are or from where you come, what matters most is what you do with the life you’ve been given today. What you do now will echo in eternity. Make this day count.

For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

Mat. 16:26

Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

The Power of Empty

Have you ever heard the statement, “You can’t pour from an empty cup”? I beg to differ. Yes, you can. In fact, you not only can; but you should.

First, let’s examine the statement. Where did it come from? What does it mean? There is a movement these days, particularly among women, that has been cloaked in something that appears to be truth. It sounds good and seems to make sense, so it must be right. Right? The idea is that, when you give so much of yourself to others, you pour yourself out until there is simply nothing left to give. Therefore to give more, you must first refill yourself. You give back to yourself with self-care and me time doing something for yourself so you can continue to give of yourself. 

This message sounds so good, especially to the over-worked, sleep-deprived, worn-out, stressed-out, neglected woman who has been so busy with life she’s forgotten who she is. She daily looks in the mirror and cringes. All that’s left of who she used to be a decade or more ago is a distant memory. Her body has changed over the years and will likely never be the same. She is mentally exhausted and stressed over endless things. She feels isolated, forgotten, and unimportant. Her spirit is parched. Even in a crowd, she feels very much alone. She tries, but her heart is empty. And then, she hears, “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” It soothes her mind. It gives her a sense of honor in all that she does, even without appreciation from anyone else. And it whispers an idea in her ear that she needs to stop caring about all the responsibilities around her and focus on herself for once. She deserves, and desperately needs a break. Besides, she can’t keep giving if there’s nothing left to give. What about her neglected needs?

The enemy has twisted the idea of self-care. In and of itself, self-care is not wrong; in fact, it’s needed. We have been instructed through Scripture to care for the temple of God, which is our bodies. It is important to eat right, exercise, and get plenty of sleep each night. It is good to laugh, savor life, and enjoy wholesome hobbies and interests. Some need alone time, and others need the comfort of their friends. Each individual has different needs and desires. But we’re on dangerous ground when we start to feel sorry for ourselves and to withdraw because of life’s injuries or when we focus on our social isolation and material deficiencies. There’s nothing wrong with reprioritizing and making time for yourself, but we must be aware of this world’s foolish wisdom. Before questioning life’s unfairness and people’s ungratefulness, question your emptiness.

We were created empty. Adam’s lungs were void and uninflated, until the breath of God Himself filled them. Then, they began to work. The empty chambers of his heart were filled with blood that was transported by a network of arteries and veins that nourished his body with the oxygenated life source. Only when he was filled with the life-giving breath of God did he become a living soul. Even though our bodies seem to function on their own, it is the breath of God that keeps us going. We were made empty to be filled by Him. It was a physical manifestation of something very spiritual. Perhaps, our emptiness has less to do with all we’ve given of ourselves and more to do with our need for more of Him.

There is something powerful about emptiness. Only when a vessel is truly empty can it be filled. It must first be poured out. Jesus said, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled” (Mat. 5:6). I pray that God empties me of myself to fill me with Him. This prayer must be daily because my human nature continually wants me full of myself. I must pour myself out in a daily sacrifice of consecration and commitment. I don’t need more of me; I need more of Him!

Like an Old Testament drink offering, we must pour out ourselves as a sacrifice to God. We offer ourselves to God empty of selfish desires and lusts and arrogance so that we may be filled with His righteousness. Only then can we truly be fulfilled.

Pouring out our selfish wants and neglected needs requires pouring out our frustrations, temptations, insecurities, disappointments, regrets, and sorrows. Hannah was barren and was “in bitterness of soul” and “wept sore” over her childlessness (1 Sam. 1:10). She vowed to God that, if He would bless her with a son, she would return him to God “all the days of his life” (1 Sam. 1:11). As she was praying this prayer at the temple, the priest Eli saw her and thought she was drunk because she was praying so intently in her heart, only moving her mouth silently (1 Sam. 1:12-13). When he scolded her, she said, “I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before the Lord” (1 Sam. 1:14-15). She had carried the weight of her disappointment and sorrow for many years, but had finally decided to pour them out to God. In return, God granted her request and gave her the son she so desired. She then kept her promise; and when he was weaned, she brought the child Samuel to the priest to serve in the temple. The fruit of her emptiness would later become the prophet who anointed David King of Israel.

Your empty feelings may, in fact, be quite the opposite of what you originally thought. Instead, you may be full—full of hurt, anger, bitterness, disappointment, or sorrow. Is there so much on your mind when you lay your head on your pillow at night that is spills onto your cheeks? Do you live in silent pain telling no one? Pour it out. Let go of your wants. Release your neglected needs. Surrender the sorrow. Empty yourself of you so that you can be filled with the Breath of Life and experience the joy of true fulfillment.

Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

Perspective

Thank God for 2020.

There, I said it.  Don’t shoot.

It was the year that started with such promise and potential.  We were all in our perfect little bubbles of routines, surrounded in our orbs of self, and wrapped in our blankets of security; and then sometime after Valentine’s Day, reality came along and popped our bubble.  And no, I’m not trying to make light of a global pandemic that killed millions of people, devastating wildfires, swarms of locusts and murder hornets, riots, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes, or tornadoes.  I realize this past year has been seemingly nothing short of the eleventh plague.

But I thank God for this year.

Yes, I am painfully aware that practically every major (and minor) event was cancelled this past year — weddings, birthdays, funerals, vacations, holiday parties, and church services with all of the events surrounding them — all cancelled. Every one of us have at least one or more story of something important that we missed.  I saw the graduating class of 2020 get cheated out of their ceremonies, proms, and parties.  I watched the Homegoing service of my own Pastor’s wife online.  There were two weddings I didn’t get to attend.  For the first time in my life, I missed Easter Sunday services as I huddled in my underground storm shelter with my family waiting out the tornadic activity all around us.  And not only was 2020 simply inconvenient. Millions became unemployed nearly overnight. Businesses — both small and large — went under. Industries were wiped out, and some will never recover.  Much of our nation — even our world — was brought to its knees.

And I thank God for this year.

Personally speaking, not much changed for me on a day to day basis during our isolation time.  I am already a stay-at-home mother of four, three of which I homeschool and one of which I chase around the house during his entire waking hours trying my best to prevent a catastrophe.  My daily life is centered around keeping everyone clothed, fed, educated, and somewhat happy.  About the only thing that changed for me during all the mandated quarantine was not being able to get everything I was used to getting at the stores for my family and having to make do.  (But hey, I learned how to make bread!)  But my heart went out to all of the families suddenly thrust into the life of homeschool without preamble and with no resources, not to mention the children who relied heavily on their schools for regular meals.

I ached and prayed for my many friends and family who were suddenly without jobs.  We went through an initial financial scare ourselves, but God came through in a major way at just the right time.  Many of our loved ones fell sick, but they recovered. Thank you, Jesus!  We prayed and fasted more together as a family than we ever have.  We spent more quality family time together this year than we ever have.  But perhaps, the greatest blessing of all this year for me was when the Lord raised my mother from her deathbed.  It wasn’t even COVID-19 that got her there. It was a failing liver.  I got to spend over a month with her while she lived with us as I tried to nurse her back to health.  Not only did God completely heal her physically; but He also repaired her broken heart as she was married to a wonderful, God-fearing man this past December.

I’ve watched my girls grow even closer to each other than they already were.  While the rest of the world was on pause, my family strengthened.  Yes, we were inconvenienced.  There was frustration, and even some tears were shed.  Not every day was picture perfect.  In fact, most of them were monotonous and boring at best and downright depressing at worst.  But as I look back over this incredibly challenging year, I see the hand of God.  He stepped in and took over our lives.  He was and still is moving us like chess pieces on a board, all for our good, even when we don’t understand it.

I thank Him for it.

Through the years I have tried to challenge myself to find the good in every situation.  I’m not always successful at it, but I do try to make it a personal habit.  I was dedicated to the Lord as a newborn infant, as was my husband and all four of my children.  So, of course, I want nothing but His will for our lives.  That means letting God be God even during the trials.  That means trusting Him in every situation and leaning not to my own understanding.  That means living a consecrated life of devotion to Him even when I don’t like living that life.

As my mother lay in critical condition in an ICU bed and I was unable to be there with her, I had to pray a prayer of release.  It was a very difficult prayer to pray, especially after losing my father two years ago.  As an only child, I was so scared of being left alone without her.  But I had to let God be God.  And if it was His will to take her, then I had to trust it was the right time.  It was by far one of the most difficult prayers I have ever prayed up until that point in my life, but I did it.  I asked Him to heal her if it was His will, but if it wasn’t His will, to take her with as little pain as possible, much the same way He took Daddy.  Then, little by little, day by day, I watched her slowly regain her strength one terrifying, wobbly step at a time.  I watched her lab value levels slowly decline from lethal to dangerous to borderline to normal.  I watched her skin color slowly change from dark orange to pale orange to yellow to pink.  Her speech went from garbled to slurred to weak to clear and coherent.  I listened to her doctor tell me that she could die at any minute. Then he said that maybe she could get a little better. Later, her recovery was a good possibility. And finally, he said that she was miraculously healed.  And then, the most amazing thing of all happened! Her tears turned to laughter, her profound sadness to utter joy, and her panic to peace as I watched her say her wedding vows to one of the kindest, gentlest men I have ever met.

My God did that.

I know you’ve heard it said many times that hindsight is 20/20; and you’ve probably heard it said by now that, as soon as the clock struck midnight on the first day of January, 2020 was finally hindsight.  But as cliché as it may sound, I want to truly have 2020 vision.  I want to look back over this year and see the order even through all the chaos.  None of this year took God by surprise.  It was all part of His divine plan from pandemics to politics and my house to the White House.  God allowed it to happen.  Dare I say it?  He made it happen.  (Daniel 2:20-22)

I cannot and will not curse this year.  I refuse to join so many others who are talking about throwing it out like yesterday’s trash.  God was too good to me.  I can’t and won’t complain.  This year was a gift, and I will gratefully receive it.  I choose to see it with my 2020 vision.  It is with a thankful heart that I look back, and with great anticipation that I look forward to the balance of 2021.  I have no idea what it holds; but I’m ready for it, whatever it may be.  It’s all about perspective, and I’ve tried my best to adjust mine.  This year has made me step back to take notice of all I have, rather than what I lack.

God help us all to see with 2020 vision.

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that thou art –
Thou my best thought, by day or by night;
Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

attr. St. Dallan Forgaill, trans. Eleanor Hull
Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

From My Heart to Yours

It’s been about a year and a half since I’ve shared any of my thoughts with the world-wide web.  Much has happened to me on a personal level, and to be quite honest, I’ve just not had the energy or desire.  From unexpectedly losing my dad on June 27, 2018, to giving birth to a wonderful surprise gift last March, my life has been quite full with many ups and downs along the way.  I have not stopped writing, however.  I have kept up with two personal journals, as well as started writing a book on grief.  I strongly feel it is of the utmost importance to try to harness one’s emotions during tumultuous times, and writing them down is one of the most effective ways I’ve found.  Is it necessary to share those secret thoughts with the world?  No.  In fact, I think it best to more diligently control what becomes public knowledge during such vulnerable times—thus, my sabbatical.  But I have something on my heart that I want to share with you, and the present, global situation we all find ourselves in seems an appropriate time.

Let me begin by sharing my deepest, heart-felt appreciation for those of you who have stood in the gap for my family and me through prayer during the past 21 months.  I know that it has been through the prayers of God’s people that my mother and I have been able to bear the loss of Daddy.  I can’t begin to recount how many reached out to us, through every imaginable way, and offered words of love and encouragement.  (If you were unable to attend the service, but had so desired, Victory Church has uploaded the funeral service on their YouTube channel.  You can view it here .)  It doesn’t feel like we should be approaching the two year anniversary of our loss.  The time has gone by in an absolute blur.  But in looking back, there has been a constant that has remained with me to this very day; and that is what I want to share with you, now:  Peace.

We read in John 14:27 some of the most beautiful words written in red. Jesus Himself spoke them:  

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

John 14:27

Jesus was about to be crucified.  His closest and dearest friends, His disciples, were unaware of His impending passion.  Jesus was doing all He could to prepare their hearts for the turmoil ahead.  They didn’t understand what was about to happen, but they were listening to His words and asking questions.  One of the very last things Jesus did before Calvary was give something of Himself to those closest to His heart: His very own peace.

I have researched John 14:27 in over 20 different versions of the Bible, as well as several concordances and Bible dictionaries; and they all agree.  The peace that Jesus was referring to in this verse was that of personal possession and, as such, a peace that only He could give.  The thought alone that Jesus would chose to leave something of a personal nature with His disciples at that crucial time is beautiful and makes me smile.  But what he chose to leave with them takes my breath with complete awe and wonder.  

Let us remind ourselves this Jesus is 100% man as well as 100% God.  I do not agree with the 50/50 theory, nor do I subscribe to the ideology of Jesus’ being only the Son of God.  The oneness of the Godhead is a different discussion for a different day.  For the sake of this post, I will simply state that my belief is that Jesus was all man, all God, and has all power and authority, alone. 

That being said, the man Jesus was about to endure physical pain that we can only try to comprehend.  Crucifixion was the cruelest form of torture in that day.  His flesh was about to be literally torn into pieces.  Muscles would soon be ripped apart.  Tendons, ligaments, and joints awaited their separation and dislocation. His wrists and feet were about to be pierced by nails anywhere from five to nine inches long, purposefully missing the main blood vessels yet penetrating nerves that would shoot searing pain through the entire body with the slightest movement.  Lungs would fill with fluid. Exhausted muscles would weaken and fail. Asphyxiation would usually be the end result as the body could no longer perform the necessary movements needed to breathe.  However, medical science coupled with biblical accounts lead us to believe our Lord died of a massive heart attack before his lungs failed. 

He was about to endure all of this, and He gave away His peace.

Could this be the reason the Bible tells us His sweat fell as great drops of blood the night before in the Garden of Gethsemane?  Physically, in order for blood to appear in the sweat of a human body, there has to be tremendous stress and strain on the body causing the capillaries in and around the sweat glands to burst, thus mixing blood with the sweat.  The man Jesus had given away the very peace He possessed as He was about to not only endure unimaginable physical pain but, greater still, take on the sins of all the world, for all of time.  

No wonder this peace is referred to in the book of Philippians as one that “passeth all understanding”  (Phil. 4:7).  We cannot fully understand the Holy, Divine kind of peace.  Man’s peace usually comes with the satisfaction of his physical and emotional needs , realization of his goals , provision of his safety, or pacification of his conscience.  A holy peace is an incomprehensible rest in the love of God, a calm in the midst of the storms of life, and a blessed assurance that comes in knowing that He has overcome the world (John 16:33).

This peace is the very peace that Jesus Christ Himself enjoys.  It’s His, and He has given it to you.  This is why you can’t rationalize it, put it in a box, or explain it.  It’s a beautiful, holy peace.  After He had given it to His disciples, He said, “Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (Joh. 14:27).  The world can’t give you this kind of peace.  We can be peaceful one moment, and terrified the next.  The peace of God obliterates fear.  The world’s peace can be unsatisfying, unsettling, and transient.  The peace of God fills the soul and reaches every part that can’t be touched by man.  It’s a God-shaped, perfect fit that no other puzzle piece can fill.   

I can only attempt to describe how it felt the moment His peace engulfed my broken heart following my dad’s sudden death.  Sorrow would be crashing down on me, coming in wave after wave of intense pain.  I would brace myself as the sobs took over; but just as quickly as they came, they would begin to dissipate.  I felt, as it were, a warm blanket come over me, surrounding me.  It was as if I could almost audibly hear the words, “Okay, that’s enough for now”; and the crying would cease.  I knew then that that was the peace of God—a peace I had never really felt up until that point.  That peace stayed with me, and is still with me as I type these words.  I felt it at the funeral, when we buried him, and all the countless times since then I wanted to pick up the phone and call Daddy.

That’s the peace I want to leave with you, today.  In the middle of this world-wide pandemic of a deadly virus that no one truly understands, in this time of financial worry when millions are without jobs, in this time when we can’t corporately gather in our churches with each other in fellowship and worship, I want to remind you that we have a God-given peace.  We may not understand why all of this is happening, but one thing we can be sure of is that nothing takes God by surprise.  He’s got this.  He’s still speaking to the storms today, “Peace, be still”.  If we have that same peace, then we can do the same thing.  Speak to your storm.  Let the peace of God that passes all understanding rule and reign in your home, today. 

Peace be with you all, in the precious name of Jesus.

Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

Tempted on the Mountaintop

Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them;  And saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.  Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.  Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him.

Matthew 4:8-11

I heard it over and over again as a little girl growing up on an Apostolic pew—sermon after sermon about the great mountaintop experience we can have with the Lord:

  • If only we could leap from mountaintop to mountaintop while skipping the valley!
  • The climb is worth all the effort in the end!
  • It’s the highest possible place you can go spiritually in the Lord while still being bound to an earthly body!
  • The great goal in our daily walk is to make it to the next mountaintop!

There always seemed to be some alluring mystery hidden beneath the cloudy haze covering the peak piercing the horizon of my young mind’s eye.  If only I could make it to the mountaintop!  I so wanted to know what it meant to be at the pinnacle of my spiritual walk.

It wasn’t until much later that I learned exactly what it means to be on the mountain.  It means isolation.  It can be a hard and barren place with nowhere to rest.  The conquest of the crest awards the cragsman an exposed vulnerability like never before.  Yes, you may see for miles from the summit; but you often see only a heavy fog covering the land below with a vision no clearer than what you beheld at the base.  The mountaintop experience isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.  It takes a while to get up, and it takes a while to get back down.  You may get weary on the way.  You may even get hurt.  It’s a climb and descent that can prove very trying, indeed.

I have read the above passage multiple times throughout my life, but never have the verses stood out to me as they did with this year’s daily reading.  The words leaped from the page to flip the switch of revelation and illuminate the Scriptures before me.  Don’t you love it when that happens?

The devil led Jesus to the mountaintop.

We often think of the mountaintop experience as being the highest spiritual experience in the Lord.  But this verse lets us know that being on the mountain doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be there.  The devil led Jesus there.  Let that sink in.  How many times have we credited the Lord with our mountaintop experience?  It may very well be divine; but it may not be, as well.

When thinking of some of the great men of God I have known throughout my lifetime that have appeared to be giants in ministry, highly successful, in demand, and at the top of their game, I recall watching them fall into the cleft of compromise; and it makes me wonder if their mountaintops were where they really needed to be at those particular times in their ministries.  They had reached a peak only to stumble and fall, and some fell to never rise again.

What a powerful lesson from the mountaintop!  Make your footing sure.  Whether you’re led there by God or by Satan himself, you need the proper equipment to ensure a secure foothold.  And that leads to the next revelation God gave me.

Jesus was tempted on the mountain.

One might envision the valley as a place of temptation, a place of depression or lowness.  (And I personally know it to be that way.)  But how often do we think of the mountaintop as being a place of temptation?  The more I think about it, the more it makes sense to me.  You are exposed, without shelter, and in a very vulnerable place at the summit.  Your heightened vision may give way to pride.  And pride comes before destruction and arrogance before a fall (Pro. 16:18).

I believe it is safe to say that temptation can come literally anywhere in your walk with the Lord.  Nowhere is a safe zone as long as we are in these mortal bodies that are under the curse of sin.  In truth, no one is saved until they make it to Heaven.  The next time you find yourself high in the clouds with Jesus, make sure you’re holding on tighter than ever to His hand.  And above all else, don’t stop praying.  It’s easy to find yourself in your prayer closet when everything is falling apart and nothing is sure in life.  But what about during the good times when all is well?  Those may be the most crucial times to pray.

He needed to receive ministering on the mountain.

We all know how Jesus fought and won the temptation over the devil with the Word of God, and we know the importance of Scripture as a weapon in our arsenal against the enemy.  But something I think that gets overlooked is the very last part of verse 11 where it says the devil left Him and the angels came and ministered to Him.  He was on the mountaintop and still needed to receive ministering.  Just because you’ve reached a spiritual high doesn’t mean you’ve arrived at a place where you no longer need something from the Lord or from others.  You may need to receive ministering, instead of being the one who does the ministering.

We can learn a lot from the valley, but we may learn even more from the mountain.  Your highest spiritual experience may very well be the most dangerous of your everyday walk.  Be aware, hold tight, and pray unceasingly.

Posted on by Delbert Tritsch

Rejoice in the Transfer

Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted: But the rich, in that he is made low: because as the flower of the grass he shall pass away.

James 1:9-10

Life Is Motion

Life can be difficult.  Problems in life are guaranteed.  Some trials are easy to bear, but some push a person nearly to their breaking point.  And some of us break.  Adversity can compel someone to quit—to stop moving forward.  Such a conclusion is fatal.

Life is motion.  A glimpse into the atomic realm reveals that living things and even inorganic matter are continually in flux.  But basic skills of observation are enough for the average individual to recognize that movement, upon which growth depends, is present in all living things.  And as it is in our bodies, so is it in our spirits.

One who loses heart—their passion and purpose—will become as a dead person moving in body but lifeless within.  This kind of living dead existence is no life worth having.

Life Is Transfer

Even in the emptiness of the cosmos, something exists.  It is no secret to the scientific community that space contains energy.  I would not be surprised if we one day discovered that the value in that vacuum is exponentially greater than what any theoretical astrophysicist had before considered.

While popular science might suggest that light is unlike the mechanical waves of a ripple in a pond and requires no medium through which to travel, I propose otherwise.  It could be that light is very much like the tiny waves created by a pebble dropped into a pond, but we have not yet fully recognized light’s pond.  Maybe, the medium light requires to travel, without which we could never see, is the fabric of space and time; and I find such a hypothesis extremely plausible.  Perhaps, however, there is another material, substance, structure, or energy existing within space-time that we have yet to discover that is the conduit through which light moves.

Theorizing about the motion of light and its possible displacement of some yet-to-be-understood framework stretches the mind; but without question, sound requires a medium through which to travel.  We are most familiar with the movement of sound through our atmosphere.  Indeed, sound does move as waves through the air like ripples in a pond.  A sound is not a thing that moves from point A to point B; rather, the sound’s source pushes molecules in the air which are in turn pushed into other molecules.  A chain reaction ensues of molecules pushing molecules pushing molecules causing waves of compression and expansion in the atmosphere.  These sound waves disturb the delicate facilities of our ears allowing us to hear the sound that was made.  I imagine that sound is an invisible and complex cooperation of many members to send an audible imprint from its source to one or more destination.

Light and sound are motion; they are transferences of energy.  Such is true for both, even if light truly requires no medium.  In fact, it appears to me that all motion is transfer.  Something moves from one point to another.  And it seems that most everything that moves influences something else to move; it transfers energy to something else.

This video explains the fact that we feel heat transfer, instead of temperature.

We do not feel the temperature of an object when we touch it with our hand; rather, we feel the transfer of heat between our hand and the object.  If the object we touch is a good conductor of heat, it will probably feel colder to us than its actual temperature would cause us to expect because we will feel the transfer of heat from our hand to the object.

The natural parallels the spiritual and provides examples to illuminate our minds to understand deeper things, and I believe natural movement and energy-transfer can teach us something about life.  Life is transfer.  In everything you do or think or experience, you are giving, receiving, or both.  You are influencing and being influenced.  You are in a transfer.

Rejoice

James wrote of the person of “low degree.”   This state is one of humiliation or depression.  It may be a chronic condition that has come to define the individual, or it could be a dark valley one reluctantly hazards.  It is a place of want or suffering.  To be low is generally considered undesirable.  Perhaps you’ve been there and experienced a testing of your faith.

The valley is not the only place your faith is tested; it’s also tried on the mountain.  God is concerned with how your faith weathers the sunshine, as well as the storm.  Do you grow in the good times, as well as the bad?  Do you continue to pray when life’s pressure releases for a season?  Do you practice holiness on vacation?

In James 1:9-10, I see transfer.  Some are moving from blight to blessing while others are falling from pinnacle to pit.  Are you watching the sunset as a heartless night looms, or do you see a silver lining brightening with a ray of sunlight breaking the previously thunderous and dark clouds?  You’re experiencing a transfer; rejoice in your transfer.

You’re moving ahead.  It may be up or down; but either way, it’s forward.  Rejoice in the movement.  Your transfer may be supplying something sustaining to someone or some situation; you’re feeling the coldness of loss while life flows from you to another.  Your transfer could be feeding you the strength you need to recover from a trial you’re surpassing.  Whatever it is, rejoice in it.

God is in control.  He’s helping you or using you or both.  But the transfer is evidence of life.  The transfer is evidence of God.  Rejoice in the transfer.

Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

Anticipation

My husband and I once attended a Mississippi Christian Writers’ Association workshop.  One of the activities of the day was an opportunity to draw four random words from a basket and come up with a short story or topic within a set time period.  It was a very challenging and fun activity for me; and to be honest, I didn’t do so well during the first morning session.  My brain completely froze over, and the gears seemed to stop working.  But by the afternoon session, the gears had thawed; and as I looked at the four words I had in my hand, the following short story flowed easily from my pen to the paper.  I’d like to share it with you.  My words to work with were “white,” “bubblegum,” “Mississippi,” and “elephant.”

The Story

“The heat of the late afternoon sun hung heavily in the simple brick room.  The lone fan slowly turning above the young nurse’s head seemed to merely stir the heat rather than dissipate it.  The long, arduous day of vaccinating the young children of the small African village had been a challenge for the new missions nurse from Mississippi.  Her eager smile that had shone so brightly earlier in the morning had now faded into a tired grin as she gave the final injection into the upper arm of the squirming child held firmly in the lap of his mother.  Jane reached into the pocket of her white scrub top and produced the promised piece of bubblegum to her young patient.  A quick hug goodbye ended her long first shift.  The screen door slammed with finality as the mother and boy left.

“Jane quickly finished her charting; cleaned the small, sparsely furnished clinic; and locked the door behind her.  The evening sun was just beginning to set while she walked the narrow, beaten path to her waiting Jeep.  As she rounded the little curve behind the clinic, she suddenly jolted and stopped dead in her tracks.

“Staring in awe, unable to move, Jane beheld an enormous, gray elephant standing ever so calmly beside her tiny Jeep, flapping ears as large as windows in the Savannah heat.  A weathered, wrinkled face studied her.  A long trunk that hung between two massive tusks of ivory slowly swung up as to point a silent greeting to her disbelieving eyes.  Jane’s heart was pounding in her chest. Her respirations were coming in labored, quick gasps.  Her mouth instantly dried upon trying to form the words needed to call for help, even though Jane was having a difficult time remembering how to do so in the first place.  There they stood in silence, the small missions nurse and the gigantic elephant, each eyeing the other and taking in every detail, each anticipating the other’s next move.”

I was a young fifth grader when I first heard the Kelley Huff song that taught me the definition of the word “anticipation.”  However, I wouldn’t fully come to appreciate the meaning of the word until many years later as an adult.

“Regard as probable; expect or predict…Guess or be aware of (what will happen) and take action in order to be prepared…Look forward to.”

“Anticipate.” https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/anticipate. English by Oxford Dictionaries, n.d. Web. 11 Aug. 2018.

Expect or Predict

How wonderful it would be if we were able to expect and predict those seemingly endless curve balls we’re thrown in the game of life!  Underneath my outer, compassionate, nurturing, extremely emotional personality beats the heart of a natural leader who loves organization and preparedness (believe it or not).  I know this will come as a shock to some who know me, but I love to be prepared.  Navigating the uncharted regions of life can completely upset my little world.  The more details I have in advance, the better I can withstand change, which I personally detest.  That’s why it’s so hard for me to have confidence in the face of the unknown.  That’s why I am a natural skeptic at heart.  It takes a lot to win my trust and even more to get it back if broken.  Faith is a big deal for people like me.

Take Action

One thing I love about the definition of anticipation is the part that says to “take action in order to be prepared.”  Anticipation is not simply a passive thought; anticipation requires effort.  The children of Israel were told to have their meal eaten, their staff in their hand, and shoes on their feet during that first Passover.  They were anticipating something.  They didn’t know what exactly, but they were ready when their deliverance came (Exodus 12).  Anticipation made Elijah send a servant to look for a sign in the sky seven times before it was ever seen (1 Kings 18).  When the kings of Israel, Judah, and Edom marched together against the king of Moab and were parched in the desert, God told Elisha to tell them to dig some ditches in preparation for the water that would ultimately save them. That took some effort; but without it, they would never have received their life-sustaining blessing (2 Kings 3).  That’s three quick references in the Old Testament alone on how anticipation required some effort.  The Bible is full of such examples.  Put some action into your anticipation the next time you’re waiting on God for a move in your life!

Look Forward To

But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.

1 Corinthians 2:9

Oh, how I love this verse!  We can’t even begin to anticipate the things that God has in store for us.  The Word tells us that He orders the steps of a righteous man (Psalms 37:23).  When we don’t know what to expect, the one thing we can expect is that God always has been, is still, and will always be in control if we’ve placed our lives in His hands.

I’ll close with the words to an unfinished song the Lord gave me many years ago… “In this ever-changing world I may not know what tomorrow holds, but I’m glad that I know the one who holds tomorrow.”

Posted on by Delbert Tritsch

How the Stench Stole Kismet

Every Kin of all the Kings without a question loved Kismet
Even though they didn’t know its truest value, as of yet;
But the Stench who liked to trench just beyond where their home set
So hated fate he’d arrogate it from their hearth without regret.

One Kin must have concluded some certain sum of years forgotten
The Stench would flinch at mercy’s plea and turn his heart as soft as cotten,
But that poor soul—as smart as coal—realized his thought was misbegotten
Because the Stench is an unmensch whose heart of hearts is truly rotten.

So every Kin had peace within enjoying living life as Kings.
The Stench was out without a doubt and could not permeate their things,
But he was driven to never give in ’till liberty no longer rings
And every Kin is bound by gloom and all that disappointment brings.

“Why do they skip about each day without a woe?” the Stench desponded.
“Is there a hole, a crack, a fault by which their putrid peace is bonded?”
“It is their hope secured in Christ,” to his own self the Stench responded.
So he determined there that day he’d not stop ’till it was absconded.

And so the Stench began to scheme and think until his mind was sore.
He tried to plan each way to breach their home and gave each one a score.
The chimney, three; a window, five; he gave a zero for the door.
But a ten he gave the solid place that lay beneath their floor.

With a gleeful exclamation, he squealed, “I’ll ruin their foundation!
“I’ll ascertain a deformation where to begin my perforation.
“And with a cunning calculation, I’ll create a cavitation
“Until my evil excavation imbues their base with degradation.”

And as the Stench began to wrench a citadel before the core
Making a breach so he could reach that sacred space below the floor
And laying hold upon the hope in their foundation he found stored,
The Kin were blind and did not know they were new prisoners of war.

The scent at first was faint for sure and did not fully fill their castle.
It took their home with little rassle and hassle that was mostly facile
Disturbing sleep and rooms of rest so no more Kin were bright and gracile
And turning Kings who once were free into that dirty Stench’s vassals.

So let this story be a study stuffed with excellent instruction.
Your fate, your hope, your destiny will not be stolen with a ruction.
For where the Stench can clench foundation’s portal will be the induction
Of the extraction of Kismet and of your ultimate destruction.

Posted on by Delbert Tritsch

The Solace of Weeping

On Thursday morning, December 14, 2017, I sat in a medical clinic waiting room suffering and greatly desiring relief.  My wonderful wife, Jennifer, had driven me to the clinic and was doing all of my paperwork for me.  Even though she gave up her career as a registered nurse to homeschool and raise our three girls, she still has a nurse’s heart, especially when it comes to her family.

My symptoms had appeared over two days earlier, but the worst of them had been during the preceding 24 hours.  My fever had gone as high as 102°F.  Due to the fever, my back hurt severely enough to remind me of the pain I’ve felt there preceding a kidney stone attack; though, I could tell it wasn’t the same.  I had tremendous coughing fits and experienced a terrible itch that felt like it was in my lungs but would not go away.  During this sickness (which the doctor treated as the flu), I felt my worst on this Thursday morning.

As I sat there in the waiting room assuming that I had bronchitis or pneumonia (and I’ve had both before, but not this time), I imagined the doctor telling me I had some terminal condition and that my symptoms would only worsen until I finally succumbed to my disease ultimately suffocating or drowning from pneumonia.  But I knew this romantic fate wasn’t my present reality.  My imagination was unhindered by my illness; rather, it may have been fueled by my self-pity.

Slightly wallowing in my suffering, I was suddenly reminded of people I know and have known who have truly experienced the suffering about which I was selfishly fantasizing.  I thought of Bro. Mask, a member of my church family at Cedar Grove United Pentecostal Church; he has visited death’s door numerous times and struggles for every breath he takes.  I thought of my maternal grandmother (Granny to me); I watched her pass from this life struggling for her last breath as she surrendered to pneumonia among other respiratory conditions.  I also thought of another precious church member, Sis. Miller, who endures chronic pain.  And there are many others (too many to name them all), some of which I know and love, who suffer far more than I ever have suffered.  In that moment, I was flooded with emotion; and my tears began to flow as I thought of and prayed for those who suffer more than I.  Their illnesses can’t be cured with a simple shot and a round of prescription medications, but I knew I was going to feel better before long.

As I cried and prayed for those who are hurting more than I was, something amazing happened.  I felt better.  That insatiable itch in my lungs abated.  I experienced actual, literal, physical relief while I cried and prayed for them.  I’m not one that can turn on the waterworks at will, and I couldn’t keep them going for very long.  And when they stopped, my uncomfortable symptoms returned.  But while I wept for someone else, my pain faded.

We are bombarded these days with messages promoting selfishness, self-absorption, self-actualization, self-expression, etc.  Social media lies to us by offering meaningful connection while actually cheapening our connections and isolating us from real relationships in order to turn us into something akin to lab rats that click their ads, buy their products, and play their games intentionally and intelligently designed to be addictive.  We are taught to look inward, love me, do what’s best for me, and do what feels good.  These philosophies are not of God.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8-9

Human philosophy says that you must first have something before you can give it, but divine understanding reveals that you must give something before you can receive it.  Earthly wisdom teaches that winners must get ahead of everyone else in the race regardless of the collateral damage, but heavenly wisdom teaches that the first will be last and the last first (Matt. 19:30; 20:16; Mark 9:35; 10:31; Luke 13:30).

Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

Luke 6:38

True fulfillment can only be found in fighting for the fortune of another.  Pain may be relieved only by one’s binding the wounds of someone else.  Complete healing can only come to those who give it.  The fullness of salvation cannot be savored until one has gone into the fields weeping and “bearing precious seed” (Ps. 126:6).  This is the Solace of Weeping.