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 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.