There in the Prison.

What you are about to read is a variation of a sermon I wrote during my Senior year of college. When I originally wrote it, I had no plans for anyone to see or hear these words. It was merely my testimony, a record of what God had done for me. I wrote this for myself. I did preach it once in chapel at Indiana Bible College, and that was it. I never wanted to revisit it. Some of the things you will see recorded in this sermon were hard for me to admit. They are still hard for me to admit, but the more I thought about what Happy Tears really means, I decided there was no other way to begin this chapter than by telling you how I got to it. There is power in testimony. Sometimes when you find yourself in a valley all you really need is to know you’re not alone, to be reminded that God is still moving in the lives of others. I know how other people’s stories have impacted me. I’m thankful for every testimony that has shaped my faith or been a comfort to me in my time of trouble, and I pray that this can be that for someone else. I believe there is beauty in brokenness and purpose for pain. So, if my story can speak to someone else the way so many have spoken to me, then it will all have been worth it.

I started at Indiana Bible College in the spring of 2021. At the very end of that semester, Brother Josh Carson (the president of IBC) preached a sermon entitled, A Strong East Wind. In that sermon, he was talking about Moses and the Israelites after they had just fled Egypt and come upon the Red Sea. Even if you haven’t heard that sermon, you may know what happens in that story. Moses raises his staff, the sea is split, and the Israelites walk across on dry ground. In his sermon, Brother Carson compares that moment when the water’s pulled back to a point of no return. As soon as the sea fell back onto the Egyptians following them there was no returning to the life the Israelites lived before. They were branching out into a new world, a new reality.

That freshman semester I sat there listening to that sermon knowing the very next day a decision was being made in my home church that would completely alter the direction of my life, a decision there was no going back from, my red sea. I left that semester scared and unsure of what was to come. I came back the next semester still confused, heartbroken, and trying to understand the events of the previous months. I walked in a very different person than the girl I had left that May.

This next year I slowly started to work through the situation and gain confidence in myself and in ministry again, when I went home for the summer following my sophomore year. I left IBC hopeful for those short months. Ready to rebuild the life I felt had been ripped out from under me when a situation occurred within my family. I will spare you the details, but I will tell you this; it was not a fun season to walk. And, I can confidently say it was the hardest season of my life. That season left me broken. Completely. And my family scarred.

Throughout my life, I was always told you don’t doubt God. He’s God; he knows everything, so it doesn’t matter if you understand what he is doing or not. He is God and you are not. I never understood that it was okay to bring your questions to him.

Sometimes we find ourselves in situations beyond our control and out of our understanding, but God is never blindsided. He is a strong God who always knows what is going on. He can handle your confusion and your questions. He may not always give you the answers you want, but he will give you peace in your uncertainty.

But at times, it can be hard for us to wrap our minds around the events going on around us and the trials we find ourselves in, and that’s okay. It’s okay to admit you're hurting. It’s okay if you prayed, and you thought God would answer differently and he didn't.

The problem is, as Christians, we have been taught that doubt and faith are opposites. They’re antonyms. You cannot have doubt and faith. But one thing I have learned is, it is in my greatest doubt that my faith is strengthened the most. It’s in those seasons when I don’t understand why or how God is moving that he shows me just how powerful and intentional he truly is. God is God even in our trials. But for him to show us his glory, we have to first give him our doubt. It matters where you go with your pain. Just because you do not ask the questions doesn’t mean they are not there. You can push the hurt and resentment down as much as you want, but eventually, if left undealt with, that pain will begin to harden. You can push the thoughts down, but you won’t push them out. You may be able to ignore them for a little while, but what happens when the next trial comes? The more you try and ignore your hurt the more it will fester. It will grow until it inevitably turns to bitterness. And that bitterness turns to anger, and then one day you wake up, and you don’t know what it is you believe at all. You start to hear people, “If God really loves you then why do these things keep happening to you? Go ahead Job, just curse God and die.”  

God is not scared of your feelings. He designed your mind. He knows the way you think. He already knows the doubt is there. Regardless of whether you acknowledge it or not, he knows it all, and he knows how to make you whole. He really is our peacemaker. He is our comfort in the storm. He sees us exactly where we are and is not intimidated by our humanity because it is where our humanity ends that he begins.

Unfortunately for me, when I came to this season in my life where it felt like the air had been ripped out of my lungs, I had not learned that yet. So I sat with these questions ashamed of myself for the doubt growing in my heart. If God is so good then why isn’t he good enough for my family? If God is so good, why does it seem like my life is falling apart? Just because I wasn’t asking them to God didn’t mean the questions were not there. I left them in my heart and allowed these unanswered questions to become the fertilizer to my feelings of hurt, doubt, and frustration. I struggled through my Junior year just trying to hold it together the best I could. I started to form these walls to try and force all these thoughts, emotions, and feelings down. I knew that if I let go even a little I would never be able to put myself back together again.

To be quite honest, I was mad at God. I was angry. The Bible says he gives and he takes away. And at that point in my life, I was experiencing a lot of “take away” but I wasn’t so sure about his ability to give. It seemed like every time I would start to get comfortable when I would begin to process the pain, something else would happen and I was right back where I started. I didn’t believe God loved me.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to be happy.” and “If this is love I’m not sure I want it.”

That’s how I felt. I didn’t want to admit it, but that was exactly where I was.

I began to blame the school and the call that I felt to go there for the pain that I was feeling. I remember thinking I didn’t ask for this call. It was just a feeling, a burden that I couldn’t get away from. I never asked for the sleepless nights, And yet, now here I am. A mess. What good am I in ministry now?

I had decided the last semester of my junior year would be my last. I wasn’t going back. Then Brother Gallion (Vice President of Indiana Bible College) preached his last chapel of the semester about perception, and it began to chip at those walls that I had so thickly built. Maybe the problem wasn’t my situation. Maybe it wasn’t God’s fault. Maybe it was just the way I had been perceiving it.

I went home that summer and the future that I had planned completely blew up in my face. The story I wrote for myself fell apart. And it was at that moment that I had nothing else. There was nothing else for me to hide behind, nothing left for me to fake my faith, so I broke down and let go. I couldn’t hold it all in anymore. I had no choice but to give it all to God. All of my frustration. All of my confusion. All of my hurts.

That moment didn’t look like some cute little prayer. “Jesus, I need you. I’m sorry. Please help me.” No. Absolutely not how it went.

It actually didn’t start as a prayer at all. It was more of an outburst of anger.

“God you don’t love me. If you loved me you would let me have something. Anything. I didn’t ask for this. I’m tired. I want it to stop.”

It was messy and honestly really hard to admit, but the beauty in it was, while I was throwing all this anger and frustration at God, he saw right through it. He saw through my outburst and saw to the hurt that was lying in my heart. He saw all the pain that I had been holding back, and he took all of it. It was like a blanket of peace washed over me in that instant.

It was in that hurting that I found my healing. I spent so long trying to hold myself together because I knew that if I fell apart I would never be able to pick myself up again. And in a way I was right. I couldn’t pick myself up, but I had forgotten that I didn’t have to. When the pieces of me began to crumble, God was right there to put me back together. And when I lost myself, he knew right where I was the whole time.

He became my peace, and he revealed himself to me in a way I had never known before.

Throughout that season of trial, I found myself drawn to the story of a man named Joseph. Beloved. Hated. Exalted.

“And Joseph's master took him, and put him into the prison, a place

where the king's prisoners were bound: and he was there in the prison.

But the LORD was with Joseph, and shewed him mercy, and gave him favour in the

sight of the keeper of the prison. And the keeper of the prison committed to

Joseph's hand all the prisoners that were in the prison; and whatsoever they did

there, he was the doer of it. The keeper of the prison looked not to any thing that

was under his hand; because the LORD was with him, and that which he did, the

LORD made it to prosper.” - Genesis 39:20-23

It’s a pretty common story. It’s often taught in Sunday school classes and even referenced in secular culture and media.

Joseph kind of lives this crazy up-and-down life. One minute things are going well for him. The next he is at the bottom of a pit listening to his brother's debate on whether they should kill him or not. It’s a crazy cycle.

Eventually, Joseph finds himself where our reading takes off, in prison. He’s imprisoned for a crime he did not commit and paying for the sins of someone else. That seems to be a theme that plays out throughout his life. Continually burdened by the consequences of another’s sins.

His brother’s envy. Potiphar’s wife’s lies. The Butler’s betrayal.

And yet, scripture still says that God had favor on him. We see that all throughout his story.

Joseph is sold into slavery, “And the LORD was with Joseph,”

He’s lied on and thrown into prison and “But the LORD was with Joseph,”

It doesn’t make any sense. A servant. A prisoner. These aren’t things we think of when we imagine the favor of God. Head of Potiphar’s house maybe, but it seems almost as soon as he got the role he was thrown right back down.

For a while, I struggled with the story of Joseph. Why did God give him his dreams knowing the direction his life was about to take? Why did God keep waving these promises in his face only to take them away?

And in hindsight, we know the end of the story, so we can say oh well it was just him preparing Joseph for what was to come but think about it, if you’re Joseph. If you’re living this, you don’t know how the story ends. It’s written throughout Joseph’s story that God had favor on him, but unfortunately for Joseph, he couldn’t just flip open the scroll to see how his life was going to turn out. He just knew God gave him these dreams and now he’s sitting on the back of a donkey after his brothers have just sold him into slavery.

Like I stated earlier I never felt like I asked for a call, and scripture never records Joseph asking for these dreams. He dreams them, and then he has to live out the life that follows. Harboring promises that don’t seem like they will ever be fulfilled.

I had never been more confident about a decision than when I came to IBC. I could tell you circumstance after circumstance. Sign after sign. Confirmation after confirmation. The day I left GA, there was no doubt in my mind Indianapolis, IN was where God was leading me. I won’t go through the whole story, but God has never spoken to me so clearly. I knew it was the right choice. The road it took me to get here was hard, but I remember when I finally came to it, I could feel the atmosphere around me changing with every mile closer I got. And I’m not just talking about the air getting dryer the further North I got. It was like I had a physical response to ensure me it was the will of God.

But in true IBC fashion, acknowledging that will and answering that call began to bring me a lot of hurt. Some by my actions. And some by others.

It wasn’t like I had never had to carry any weight before. My life wasn’t exactly rainbows before I got here, but all of a sudden it just seemed like every burden felt heavier. And every pain hurt deeper. The attacks felt more personal. And I didn’t understand.

I started to hate the building process. And to doubt there could ever be any use for me in ministry.

Just like Joseph, I found myself in prison, but this was a prison of my design. Burdened by the weight of my dad’s sins and the hurt of others, all I could see were my walls. All I could see was the hurt and the pain that I had been through. I could not see God’s goodness. I was blind to how he was moving in my life.

Sure Joseph was the head servant of the prison, but he was still in prison. He wasn’t free. He was still bound. And that was where I found myself. Bound.

It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one that did the things that were causing me so much hurt.

If you think your sins do not affect other people, they do. There are consequences to sin, and you are wrong if you think those consequences will only come back on you. There will almost always be someone else caught in the crossfire. They weren’t my sins. But they led me to sins of my own.

In my brokenness, and in my inability to trust God, I found myself in a life I didn’t want or recognize. I could not have been further from that girl who walked in those blob doors that January day of 2021. That girl who was so excited to be there and to let God use her and to answer the call she felt so heavily on her heart, now she was just trying to survive. She didn’t care where she went or what she did. She just wanted to be happy. And she began to craft her own ideas of what happiness would look like.

I didn’t know how to bring my worries to God, so I created my answers. Fortunately for me, just because I had stopped choosing him didn’t mean he stopped choosing me.

He saw me in the midst of my plans, my wants, and my ambitions. He saw past my walls, my hurts, and my bitterness. He loved me when I didn’t believe he did and when I couldn’t love him back.

“And the Lord was with Joseph” And the Lord was with me.

He blew up every plan I had made. As I was preparing to throw my life away, he was with me.

All of a sudden. I had no plans. No goals. I was broken. And I was hurt. And I had nothing else to hide behind. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I cried. And I cried. And I yelled and I poured everything that I had been holding in out to him. And he took it all.

For every hurt that I poured out, he replaced it with peace. For every broken part of me, he gave me strength. He gave me comfort. He began to piece me back together in love. And almost instantaneously my perspective changed.

I stopped seeing him as the God who failed my family, but as the God who kept me. I stopped focusing on the hurt I endured and all I could see was what he was building in me. He did not force me into anything. He allowed me to walk the paths that I had to create in me who I needed to be.

Joseph’s dreams were never for himself. They were for his brothers. They were for the legacy he would build. The future of the Israelites.

When God gave him his dreams, they were not ready to be fulfilled yet. Some things had to be done. Some life had to be lived. If Joseph had never been to Egypt, he would have never been able to save them. If he had not been thrown in that pit, he would probably be slowly dying of starvation with the rest of his brothers when the famine came. If they never had to work through their guilt and deal with the agony they put their father through, his brothers might never have been able to accept his help.

So much had to happen for God’s plan to play out and for Joseph's dreams to be fulfilled.

This is true in my life as well. I still haven’t seen all of my promises fulfilled. All my issues haven’t gone away. But I know he’s working on them.

If you are hurting today. Broken. Maybe you find yourself in a similar situation as I was. 

Overwhelmed by the circumstances of your life. I want to let you know even if you cannot see his hand in your situation, it’s there. I promise it is. He has never failed. And he is not about to start with you. It is not the will of God for you to live bound.

But he cannot give you peace if you do not first give him the problem. Give him your worry. Give him your confusion. Your hurt. Your future. Your plans. Whatever you are struggling with. Give it to him.

But, maybe you’re in quite the opposite situation. Maybe you couldn’t relate to my story at all, and I thank God for that. But if you haven’t, you haven’t yet. Because there will come a time when your faith is tried. If you never had reason to doubt you would never have any need to have faith in him.

Thank God for his faithfulness. Thank God that he has kept and protected you. And pray that he gives you the eyes to always see that. To always see his goodness despite the struggles of life.

You may have waltzed through your life so far, but you do not know what waits for you in the future. Pray that he gives you the strength to endure it.

And for those of you who maybe things are not going how you had hoped right now. Maybe it’s been hard to see God’s goodness. It’s hard to trust that he is moving because you’re not seeing any signs. Put your trust in him. Because he can handle every burden you have to carry. He sees every tear that you have cried. He knows every hurt you’re harboring.

He is strong enough to deal with your pain and your questions.

When he called you, he knew every failure you would ever have. He knew every hurt you would ever face, and yet he called you anyway. Because he can use you despite that brokenness if you will open up and let him.

Don’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed by your overwhelming situation or become weary in well doing. Surrender to God. Give him control of your life, of every part. Even the things you don’t want to give up and watch him do miraculous things in you and through you.

He is a good God, and he wants to show you just how good he is.

Love you, always.