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

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 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.