I was reading a journal entry from May 31, 2010, and read what I have repeatedly written there. “I wouldn’t be afraid to die—but before I die I want to build Living Room into something firm and strong. With its foundation being Jesus Christ—all he is and was. All he showed himself to be in the gospel stories. A friend and healer of those the world wants nothing to do with.”

Oh, God, how I would like to see my work be carried on after I die. To make the world a better place for people going through mental health challenges.

Not for the glory, Lord. The glory would be yours. But just to know that I was your foot soldier, someone obedient to you in playing a part in building your Kingdom.

Lord, please help me build Living Room into a movement—a strong movement that cannot be broken.

Who will care for the many Reflections on Scripture that I’ve written? Who will pass them on? Like this one, written while deeply suffering myself.

December 2016

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
I will consider all your works
and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”

Psalm 77:11-12

When you read what precedes these verses in Psalm 77 you’ll see how the above follows expressions of great despair. Many of us have been in such despair. We wallow in a mire of godless messages going round and round in our heads. Often we’re so focused on our ugly feelings and sense of hopelessness that we forget God is there, waiting for us to turn to Him.

We know we’ve wandered too far away from God when a non-believing friend, desperate to help, persuades us to go to the God we believe in. We know when we can’t find it in us to pray on our own as usual, needing a brother or sister in Christ to pray with us. We know when we’re calling the crisis line too often, because we so badly need to talk to someone.

Forgetting God is a bad place to be. But at times like this we will probably wake up realizing how lost we are—how very much we need God. We realize how we’ve forgotten all he is, all he can offer. His love, compassion, and strength. We’ve forgotten what he has done for us in the past . . . And all we had to do was to seek him, to reach out to him.

What a blessing it is to be reminded! What a blessing it is to remember, eh?

Not long ago, in the midst of relentless emotional struggles, I had forgotten the daily routine that kept me anchored in my faith. I usually enjoyed my early mornings, journaling, praying, reading my Bible, writing reflections about what God meant to me. But during these troubling times I let it all go. And then—how quickly I failed to remember my God, my Father in heaven. How quickly he had faded from my confused mind! God, who has so often helped me through stormy times! The God I trusted; the God who loves me, no matter what.

Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever forgotten?

And then . . . do you remember how good it was to find God again? Still there, still ready to receive you back as his child? How good to know that his healing touch is still available! How good to know he was waiting for you to come back and trust him again! All you had to do was to reach out to him. All you needed to do was to spend some time with him.

Don’t be like me. Don’t believe what you might be telling yourself—the hopelessness of your situation, your unworthiness, your feelings of inadequacy. Those are all lies that make you miserable. If you’re not careful, your mind will find a way to make them true . . . unless you remember something greater—something much greater:

God is the God of the impossible. And He’s there, waiting for us.

Now if we can just remember that.