Posts Tagged: telling the truth

“On Not Giving Up”

On September 17, 2019 by Dteb With 0 Comments - down to earth believer

I was thinking about giving up.

I was listening to an Andy Stanley sermon titled, “You’re Not the Boss of Me.”  Part 1 was difficult to hear, in view of how all-over-the-map my emotions are right now.  It is hard for me to tell my emotions, “You’re not the boss of me,” when they are being particularly bossy.

As I walked, I listened to Andy Stanley’s “You’re Not the Boss of Me,” part 2.  It was about guilt.  The first ten minutes were, even by Andy’s own admission, pretty depressing.  He was warning about trying to deny, or minimize, or blame someone else for the harmful things we’ve done.  My walk and my listening were getting more and more depressed and depressing.

What was the use of trying to get clean and honest?  It had not brought healing to my children, to my wife, to others I had harmed.  Had it even brought healing to me?  Telling the truth as best I could had simply caused others to wonder what else I might be hiding.  What was the point of anything?  Why not just give up?

Just as Andy Stanley was making the turn toward the fact that Jesus had died for all our sins and guilt, that we were no longer condemned or defined by our guilt, I made the turn down one of the cull-de-sacs.  I finally had enough courage to look up from my blue running shoes, and there, in a yard at the turn of the street, was a sign:

DON’T GIVE UP

This seemed very strange, in view of what I had just been listening to, and feeling, and thinking.  “Surely, this is a mirage,” I said to myself.

But, no, it wasn’t a mirage.  It was still stubbornly there as I got closer.

I knew the couple who lived there—slightly.  We had chatted a few times when we were out walking in the neighborhood.  So, I walked up the sidewalk, and rang the doorbell.  The man of the house came to the door.

“I needed to see your sign,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said.  “I’ve got several of them at work as well.”

“Is this some sort of program?” I asked.

“It is to encourage young people who are depressed or suicidal,” he replied.

“I’m afraid it isn’t just young people who struggle with depression or suicidal tendencies,” I said, fighting back the tears.  “Your sign was just what I needed to see.  Thanks.”

I continued my walk.  Another street, another cul-de-sac.  When I made the turn at the end of the cul-de-sac, I looked up and there was the lady of the DON’T-GIVE-UP house walking toward me.  She walked with me a while, and she talked a bit about why they had the sign, and how the signs were the brainchild of a concerned person on the West Coast.  The lady left me with a card for a free mental health program and a prayer.  “You are an angel of God for me today,” I said to her.  Only just now, I remembered that her name was Angela.

Sometimes, we all need a sign from God.  And sometimes, the sign is a sign.

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