The Lean That Changes Everything

The Bible is full of God's promises. He promises to never leave us nor forsake us. He offers forgiveness and eternal life through the blood of His Son. When we honor Him with our finances, He promises to open the windows of heaven and pour out His blessings upon us.

But among all of these hope-filled promises, there is one I'd rather ignore. Yet it stares me down with its unmistakable truth.

“In this world you will have trouble.” — John 16:33

In John 16:33, Jesus speaks to His disciples during the Last Supper and says, "In this world you will have trouble." There is no "maybe" or "perhaps" in His words. He doesn't tell them that if they follow three simple steps, they'll avoid hardship. Instead, Jesus is remarkably honest. He promises that trouble will be part of their future.

I'm sure that you, like me, have experienced your own share of trouble. If you are a living, breathing human being, Jesus' promise has proven true. We live in a fallen world filled with broken people, painful circumstances, and unexpected heartache. Trouble is unavoidable.

As I've grown older, I've found three things to be true:

• Life will continue to bring trouble.

• Trouble will always leave me at a tipping point.

• The direction I choose to lean will make all the difference.

When I look back across the landscape of my life, I can clearly see seasons marked by trouble. As a child, my parents divorced. Until middle school, I didn't know anyone else whose family looked like mine, and I often felt alone. As a teenager, I struggled with my weight and body image. I rarely felt comfortable in my own skin, and my confidence suffered. During my freshman year of college, I was desperately homesick and wanted to throw in the towel and move back home.

Later, while many of my friends were getting married and starting families, I remained single, wondering if I'd ever become a wife or a mom. Life was good, but it was always peppered with challenges. Looking back, I don't think I leaned well. My flesh naturally believed the worst and leaned in that direction. Anxiety, worry, and hopelessness became familiar companions. I rehearsed lies over myself and my circumstances until I was emotionally exhausted, only to find myself back where I'd started.

“There is a lean that acts as an antidote to trouble.”

As my faith has matured and my dependence on Jesus has deepened, I've discovered there's a better way. There is a lean that acts as an antidote to trouble.

It doesn't necessarily remove the hardship, and sometimes the circumstances don't change at all. But when I choose to lean into the Lord instead of into my circumstances, something changes inside of me.

Charlie

In 2009, at 25 weeks pregnant, our first child was stillborn. His name was Charlie.

The devastation of losing him is difficult to put into words. The pain of losing a baby is unlike anything else. I was angry with God and deeply confused about how He could allow something so heartbreaking. At the time, one of my friends was also pregnant. On paper, I had done everything "right." David and I had dated with intention. We had remained sexually pure until marriage. She wasn't married yet. I've always had a strong sense of justice, and I remember asking God why I had lost my son while her pregnancy continued to flourish. That was the moment God invited me to lean. I could continue leaning into my flesh—becoming bitter, offended, and resentful over something that wasn't even my friend's fault. Or I could lean into Him.

He challenged me to lean toward generosity.

He asked me to invite her over and give her every piece of maternity clothing I owned.

It didn't seem fair. It certainly didn't seem kind. But it was the direction He knew would bring healing. So I obeyed. When she walked out of my house carrying armfuls of maternity clothes, nothing about my circumstances had changed. I was still grieving my son, and she was still carrying a healthy baby.

But something inside me had softened.

Generosity opened a highway for healing.

The offense began to loosen its grip. The feelings of lack began to fade. In their place, peace quietly began taking root. These days, the Lord is once again inviting me to lean.

Earlier this year, my stepdad passed away unexpectedly. My mom's dementia continues to progress. My father-in-law is battling leukemia. Several close friends are carrying burdens of their own. In this season, the lean God is teaching me is gratitude. It's easy to fix our eyes on what's hard. The "woe is me" thoughts come naturally if we allow them. But Philippians 4 reminds us that gratitude is the pathway to peace.

Gratitude changes everything

Gratitude also has a multiplying effect.

When the disciples came to Jesus with the impossible task of feeding five thousand people, He didn't focus on what they lacked. He thanked God for the fish and loaves they did have, and God multiplied them until everyone had enough.

Gratitude does the same thing in our hearts.

When I acknowledge the grief of watching my parents age but intentionally thank God for their legacy—and for the time I still have to make meaningful memories—gratitude transforms my perspective. Joy and peace begin to overflow.

Again, the circumstances haven't changed. But I have.

“Take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Jesus was kind enough to tell us the truth. This world will bring trouble.

But He didn't stop there. He followed that promise with another one: "Take heart! I have overcome the world."

Because of that, we have a choice.

We can lean into our flesh, allowing negativity, fear, and bitterness to keep us stuck.

Or we can lean into Jesus through generosity, gratitude, and trust.

One path leaves us imprisoned by our circumstances.

The other fills us with peace, joy, and the quiet confidence that God is still at work.