Walking With Christ

1 Peter 4:12–13
(12)Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.  (13)But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.(ESV)

People look at my life now and say they want what I have.  They want the peace.  They want the insight.  They want the intimacy with God.  They want the stability in my home, the depth in my marriage, the authority in my words.  What they don’t see is the fire that came first.

They didn’t watch my mind break under pressure.  They didn’t hear the cries that never made it past clenched teeth in the middle of the night.  They didn’t stand in the corner of the room while I stared down demons—mine and others.  They didn’t live in the house with the man I used to be.

Some did.

Some still carry the echo of his voice, the weight of his anger, the bruises he didn’t always leave on skin—but left in trust.  Some have scars that still rise to the surface when my voice hits the wrong tone or I go too quiet for too long.  So when people say they envy the life I have now, I want to ask:  Are you willing to bleed for it?

Not everyone is meant to walk the same road.  Some of us are led into darkness not to be punished—but to be tempered.  To be broken down and rebuilt, not for glory, but for usefulness.  God doesn’t waste a single moment of suffering—but He rarely explains it on the front end.

I didn’t choose the encounters I’ve had.  I didn’t ask to hear the voice of God, or to be taken places no man should go, or to see things I’m not allowed to speak of yet.  I didn’t earn those things by being holy.  I’m not.

They were the wreckage and the rescue all at once.  Faith didn’t come from certainty.  It came from desperation.

2 Corinthians 5:7
for we walk by faith, not by sight.(ESV)

And intimacy with God didn’t start in a worship service.  It started when I had no one else to talk to—when I was the monster in the mirror and couldn’t live with the man I’d become.  And somewhere in that hell, I heard the whisper that changed everything:  “You’re still Mine.”

Isaiah 43:1
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel:  “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.(ESV)

So to the ones who envy the fruit, I say this:  There are still rocks in the soil.  Some of them were placed there by others.  Some I laid down myself.  But God is still gardening.

The roots are going deeper.  And the harvest—when it comes—is not because I was strong.  It’s because I finally got out of the way.

To the one who watches their spouse walk with God and wonders, “Why not me?”—don’t confuse proximity with absence.  You’re not behind.  You’re being prepared.

1 Peter 5:10
And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.(ESV)

To the one who sees their parent walking in peace but remembers growing up with storms—you’re not broken for having memories you can’t fully explain.  You’re not weak for flinching at things that no longer exist.  Sometimes the body remembers even when the mind forgets.  That’s not failure.  That’s survival.

And if some parts of you still carry questions you’ve never put into words—that’s okay too.  The healing you see in me now isn’t meant to overshadow the cost you paid.  It’s meant to remind you that change is possible.  That what once lived in these walls doesn’t define what happens in the home you build someday.

We don’t erase the past to move forward.  We walk past it—daily—like a hole in the wall that never got patched, a silent reminder of who used to live here.

Psalm 23:3
He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.(ESV)

You’re not behind.  You’re not broken.  You’re blooming in deeper soil than most ever dig through.

James 1:12
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.(ESV)

Some of us are called to the forge early.  Some are called later.  But the invitation is always the same:

Malachi 3:3
He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, and they will bring offerings in righteousness to the Lord.(ESV)

Step into the fire.  Stay until the impurities rise.  And trust that the hands shaping you aren’t trying to destroy you—they’re making you pure.

And just in case anyone missed it—He’s the Refiner.  Not me.  I’m the metal.  I’m the mess.  The fire was never mine.  I’m the one being held in the fire.  But He is the one who knows exactly when to pull me out.