Buried but not forgotten, I was asked today to join a panel to discuss one of the most painful events of my life. The purpose is noble: to help others understand pain, survival, and the hidden struggles people carry. We go through these stages to refine ourselves and become more human in our interactions with others.
We live in a broken world where pain is an inevitable part of our lives. Because we only know our own experiences, it is hard to imagine others going through the same thing. Our pain is unique to us.
John 16:33, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
Buried
What you have gone through prepares you to help others. It makes you relatable. It also gives you the experience to know that you can survive and thrive in a world that is doing its best to crush you. That is an important message to pass on.
But pain is pain. Much of it I have buried deep in the ground. I have even removed the headstone so I do not go back to revisit it. It is part of me. It influences decisions in subtle, subconscious ways. I don’t have to make friends with it. I need to understand it and find a way forward without letting it dictate my life. And I have.
Hebrews 13:5, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”
Now I have been asked to resurrect it. I have been asked to go deep into the woods and find the indentation in the ground marking its resting place. I must search for it. Remember where and why I buried it. Then I have to revive it, bring it back to life in front of others.
Resurrected
I don’t know how. I’ve gone over it and over it in my mind. How do I talk about something so personal without being condescending or glib? How do I keep from masking the hurt and shame while staying honest? No one, not even my closest and dearest friend, knows the whole story. Mostly to protect the other party, partly to protect myself.
I’m afraid I have no advice today except this. That day, the one that changed my life forever, was not a hard decision. It came naturally.
God said, “Do this,” and I did.
I think it saved a life.
But it cost me everything.
To the outside world, it was a failure on a grand scale. But to me, there was no plan “B”. I have never regretted it, and given the chance, I would do it again.
Isaiah 41:10, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
Living
But there is a scar that runs deep. Every once in a while, I gently rub my hand over it to remind myself I am still alive. I have to do that because I am human, and until that changes, I will feel pain from time to time.
I have a God who has never abandoned me, even in the moments when I could not understand the cost. In my darkest hour, He is there. There is nothing I will ever go through that is a surprise to Him. And, if I allow, He will use it for my good.
2 Corinthians 12:9, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”


I see Paul as a role model for living. Not just because he’s passionate about sharing the gospel, but in how he lived his everyday life. It’s easy for me to depend on my past as a guide for my future. This way of thinking assumes there’s a fixed trait or unchanging characteristic in who I was that determines who I can become. It’s the old nature-versus-nurture debate. But look at Paul as an example.
Have you ever felt like your plans were crushed, only to realize they weren’t broken but simply redirected for God’s purpose? Sometimes, God uses minor setbacks to teach us. This is a story of one such experience. Traveling internationally is always challenging. It’s not just about different languages and cultures; it’s also about everyday things like water and electricity. I was telling a friend the other day that I’ve never felt more entitled than when I stepped outside my environment into someone else’s.
Did God turn to Esther to finish what Joshua and Saul left undone? I love the story of Esther. Mordecai’s exhortation to Esther, “Who knows—perhaps it was for a time like this…” is one of my favorite verses. It reminds me to act even when the outcome is uncertain, as evidenced by his other statement, “Even if you now remain silent, relief and deliverance will come from another source.” I know I can either be a part of God’s plan for another, or God will choose someone else.
The Trap of a Single Story
There is a risk in forming a narrative from a single story. But we do it all the time.
You were chosen to bear fruit that lasts. Your existence is not temporal; it is eternal. Your actions are not of someone who passes through, but of someone who is sent.
“Breaking Free: Doing That For Which You Were Created.” Have you ever felt like you might not be doing the right thing or that you’re just in the wrong place? It’s a familiar feeling, and we find ourselves in such situations for many reasons. Ideally, passion drives us—we discover what we love, pursue it, and thrive in it. But for many, that’s the exception rather than the rule.
Living the life of Ester: embracing your God-given purpose. Have you ever wondered if you’re where you’re meant to be? The story of Esther offers profound insight into how God orchestrates our lives to fulfill His purposes. In Esther 4:12-14, Mordecai’s words remind us of our divine placement: “And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Even when we don’t realize it, we are precisely where God wants us to be.