Good morning, my brothers! Are you worn out and wondering if God even knows what you're going through? Isaiah 40 reminds us that He hasn't forgotten you; He never grows weary, and He promises strength when yours is gone. Let's go! 4-min, 57-sec read.
You can buy the book here. A great way to grow in Christ and pay it forward so we can reach other men.
Listen to the audio version here:
Since the book came out, I've heard from many men by email, phone, text, and a few video calls. Four of those conversations have stayed with me these last few weeks.
Some of those men's marriages are over, and others are hanging by a thread. Every one of them said almost the same thing: I'm worn out, and I feel alone.
I'd guess some of you could have written those emails yourselves. Maybe your marriage is on life support. Maybe you feel worthless with little to offer, or you can’t find a job and are struggling to make ends meet. Maybe outwardly things are going well, and yet you feel totally unfulfilled.
If that's where you are now, I've been there too. Flat on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, wondering where God went.
Twenty-Five People and a Burning Building
Some of you know about March 6, 2010, the day Wendell August Forge burned to the ground. I've never told you in the newsletter what happened in the middle of that afternoon.
Dozens of people from our little community in Grove City stood around the building in disbelief. My coworkers came up to me in tears asking, "Will, what am I going to do? This is the only job I've known. How am I going to pay my mortgage?" I didn't have an answer, and inside I was numb.
So I asked everyone to gather around. About 25 of us stood in a circle, some holding hands, many of us crying, and I prayed the simplest prayer of my life.
"Lord, we don't know what's happening, but we're confident that You do. Show us what You want us to do next, and protect us. In Jesus' name, amen."
The fire kept burning after we said amen, but something had shifted when we looked up. Our team spread out and went to work beside the firefighters on the first steps of recovery.
Maybe you’re experiencing your own “fire” right now. Whatever is burning in your life, the God we prayed to in that parking lot is standing with you as well.
Comfort Comes First
For a lot of us, Isaiah 40 is a go-to chapter when discouragement sets in. I love how it opens.
Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.
God says it twice. Before a single word about His power, He tells His people He wants them comforted.
They were worn out. They'd lost their homes and their temple, and they'd lost any sense that He was paying attention. You can hear it in verse 27.
Why do you complain, Jacob? Why do you say, Israel, "My way is hidden from the LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God"?
My way is hidden. God doesn't see me. Some of us have never said those words out loud, but we've lived them at 3 a.m. staring at the ceiling, or sitting in the truck in the driveway because we're not ready to walk inside yet.
The Hand That Holds the Oceans
God answers that complaint by showing them how big He is. He starts with the oceans.
Who has measured the waters in the hollow of His hand, or with the breadth of His hand marked off the heavens?
Every ocean on earth fits in His palm. A few verses later He brings out the stars one by one and calls each of them by name. Now look at the verse that comes right before all that.
He tends His flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart
Verses 11 and 12 sit together. The hand that holds the oceans is the same hand that carries the lamb.
If you're the man who feels hidden this morning, you're the lamb in verse 11. He hasn't lost track of a single star, and He hasn't lost track of you.
When we're worn out, a God our own size wouldn't help much. We need One who never gets tired.
Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.
Lifting Our Eyes
So what does lifting our eyes look like on a hard Tuesday morning? For me, it means building altars, though mine aren't stacks of stone.
They're journal entries where I write down my go-to verses and the moments I've clearly seen God work. That prayer circle is in there, and when I find myself in the fetal position again, I go back to those pages and remember.
You've got altars too, even if you've never written them down. Maybe it was a hospital waiting room, a layoff, or a night you were sure your marriage was done, and somehow God carried you through it. He was bigger than that fire, and He's bigger than this one.
Then pray the prayer from that circle in your own words. "Lord, I don't know what's happening, but I'm confident You do." Praying it hands the weight to the only One strong enough to carry it.
Those four men taught me something else. Every one of them reached out to somebody, and that was the first step back. If you're carrying this alone, the bravest thing you might do this week is tell one brother the truth about how you're really doing.
Comfort Passed On
Paul knew this God of comfort well. He'd been shipwrecked and left for dead, and he still wrote this to the church in Corinth.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
Comfort was never meant to stop with us. The comfort God gave me on the floor years ago is the same comfort I got to pass along to those four guys these last few weeks.
Whatever you're walking through right now, God will use it. Someday a worn-out man will sit across from you, and you'll be the one who can say, "I've been there, and let me tell you who carried me."
Reflection: Where does it feel like your way is hidden from God right now? What fire are you standing in front of? Read Isaiah 40 slowly this weekend, out loud if you can.
Action: Build your own altar this week. Open a journal and write down one verse that's been there for you over the years and one moment you clearly saw God work. The next time you're on the floor, you'll have somewhere to go back to.
Prayer: Father, I don't know what's happening, but I'm confident that You do. You hold the oceans in Your hand, and You carry me close to Your heart. When I'm worn out, lift my eyes to You. Show me what You want me to do next, and make me a man who passes Your comfort on. In Jesus' name, amen.
-Will
More The Man is free because monthly supporters choose to keep it that way. A few dollars a month helps us reach guys still looking to grow closer to Jesus. Would you prayerfully consider Paying It Forward?
