FINDING TREASURES IN YOUR TRIALS:
31 NUGGETS OF HOPE FOR TRYING TIMES


This is a devotional book of 31 chapters about how to find hope in the most difficult of situations, and I’m still seeking a publisher.

You can read portions of a few chapters below, and I’d be interested in any leads on a publisher.

Copyright 2000 James McAlister
May not be reprinted without permission
Single copies for personal use are permitted


CHAPTER 1

FINDING HOPE IN TRYING TIMES

The truth is this: The march of Providence is so slow and our desires so impatient; the work of progress so immense and our means of aiding it so feeble; the life of humanity is so long, that of the individual so brief, that we often see only the ebb of the advancing wave and are thus discouraged. It is history that teaches us to hope. — Robert E. Lee

George Frederick Handel's career was afflicted with setbacks. Twice bankrupt, he had fallen out of favor with audiences, and financial woes mounted. With such strains upon him, he plunged into the task of writing Messiah. Servants reported that for the 24-day duration of the project, his food was often untouched, and his manuscript was frequently wet with tears.

Upon hearing the first London performance of Messiah on March 23, 1743, King George II of England rose to his feet at what we know as the "Hallelujah Chorus." The majestic and thrilling arrangement of diverse orchestral elements gave wings to the king's body and soul.

Of the "Hallelujah Chorus" Handel would later say, "I thought I saw all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself." Out of the depth of Handel's discouragement came one of the most significant compositions in musical history.

When God plucks the strings of our lives with the hand of contrary circumstances, what music will He hear? Will it be a mournful dirge of discouragement? The score for a magnificent anthem sits before the Master, its diverse elements arranged for a "Hallelujah Chorus" of hope in our souls.

But the melody of hope is often subtle, weaving in and out and around trying times that might easily get us down. And whether the melody advances with the boldness of percussion or the gentleness of strings, its varied themes blend in perfect harmony.

We'll be looking at some "themes of hope"—five of them, actually—that repeatedly echo through the Bible and should reverberate in our souls:

1. We hope in the good plan that God has for us.

2. We hope in the assurance of answered prayer.

3. We hope in a just reward for our labors.

4. We hope in the involvement of God in every circumstance.

5. We hope in the resurrection and a home in heaven.

(to be continued)

CLOSING THOUGHT

Suffering through the painful spots of life is the common lot of us all. There is no immunity: statesman and servant alike strain under the same load. But rather than isolated, unrelated occurrences, the trying times of our lives are loosely knit together with five subtle threads. These "threads of hope" not only give structure and meaning to our trials, but also lead us to the treasure at the heart of the trials themselves.

THE NUGGET OF HOPE

Treasures of hope are buried within the heart of suffering and trial, and they become our means of inspiration and survival.


THE GOOD PLAN THAT GOD HAS FOR US

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)

 


CHAPTER 2

TIME'S LONG AND FLOWING RIVER

TIME'S LONG AND FLOWING RIVER

In time's long and flowing river,
Swept along, I cannot roam—
Contemplate my circumstances—
As it takes me surely home.

Many times I've longed to linger,
Spend a while outside its flow;
Let the trials of life slip by me,
But I'm drawn along in tow.

Looking at my friends and family,
Oh, how young they seem to be!
River flows, and they're much older;
Time is also changing me.

Gentle moments with my children;
How I thought they'd always be.
Look again, and one is missing!
Gone ahead to wait for me.

Errors made when I was younger
Follow me and cause regrets.
Can't go back, the river's flowing;
Sometimes fear what lies ahead.

Sad and happy times together
Blend as one into a scene.
Time does that in such a manner,
Almost seems to be a dream.

But I have a watchful Pilot,
Always knows just where we are.
Keeps us safe within His river,
'Til it crosses heaven's bar.

The couple appeared to be in their 70s. Seeing their struggles to get their mentally retarded son into the car, I whispered under my breath, "Well, there we are with Jenny in about 20 years. I don't know how we'll ever be able to do it."

By the calendar, our daughter Jenny was 22, but at her best she functioned at about a two-month level. Since she never went through any of the "normal" childhood developmental phases, each day was about the same as the day before. That made it easy for us to drift along, logically projecting where we might be 20 years hence.

But "time's long and flowing river" holds many surprises as it wends through the peaks and valleys of our lives. During the wee hours of the very next morning, Jenny quietly slipped from time into eternity. Our gentle moments together were finished; she had "gone ahead to wait for us," as this poem says.

Our journey down the river of time has held both sad and happy experiences for our family. Some have been so satisfying and pleasant that we would have carelessly lingered outside of time's flow—had that been possible. Others have made us wish that the river would hasten us along just to get through them a bit faster.

It would be easy to become discouraged over the uncertainties in our travels through life. But whether time's long and flowing river brings us face to face with pleasure or pain, we have a watchful Pilot who is concerned about our journey. No matter how dismal situations may appear, changes are around each bend.

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)

Jenny was our firstborn. Within a week of her birth, we were aware that her entire brain had been injured. After three months, my wife Mary (who well remembers the moment of discovery) knew that Jenny was also blind. It would take months for the full extent of her sweeping physical infirmities to unfold.

For a while, plunges into these uncharted waters greeted us with unwelcome regularity. Still, we did have some time to gradually adjust.

(to be continued)

CLOSING THOUGHT

Had I been asked to list my greatest desires, creative writing—poetry in particular—would never have been considered. Who could have imagined that from the wound of such a great hurt could have flowed some of my greatest joys? But that's God's way. His good plan is never constrained by what I think is possible—or even conceivable. He is full of surprises... surprises that help uncover the hope buried within our trials.

THE NUGGET OF HOPE

God's plan is more wonderful than we could ask or think.


CHAPTER 3

FOR EVER VALLEY A MOUNTAIN

FOR EVERY VALLEY A MOUNTAIN

When God created the mountains,
He made all the valleys beside,
Not to be places of troubled defeat,
But there in His grace to abide.

Compelled, we live in the valleys,
Constrained by the curse of the fall.
For every valley a mountain is there
To shed its strength over all.

We clearly see from the mountain
That the valleys do have an end.
And not far beyond, supernal, sublime,
Are delights for all who ascend.

(Refrain)
"Thy righteousness is
Like the great mountains,"
A refuge from sin and from strife,
Casting its shadow
Of help and of hope
Across every valley of life.

Our backpacking trip to the Pecos Wilderness Area in New Mexico began with enthusiasm, and we gradually adjusted to the heat and high altitudes. A tight schedule compelled us to complete the 40-mile round-trip on time.

The trails were well marked, and we had no trouble finding our way as we traversed the gently rolling alpine meadows and gradual ascents. The peaks were shadowy giants in the distance. Late the second day we were much higher, and a chilly rain compelled us to seek temporary shelter and build a fire to ward off hypothermia.

On the final leg to our campsite the next day, our trail disappeared into a forest where trees lay in jumbles like a giant's "pickup stick" game. Traversing it was impossible, and we were exhausted by both the climb and thin air. We set up camp in hopes of discovering a way through the thickets the next morning.

The morning sun transformed the forest into a steam bath—humming with mosquitoes. Thanks to John Sherman Gilliom's scouting trip to a higher elevation, we were eventually blessed with another clear trail. About mid-afternoon, wearied by the journey and unexpected difficulties, we safely made our intended campsite.

(to be continued)

CLOSING THOUGHT

Do you have valleys in your life? I do. Do they sometimes seem endless and tedious? So do mine. And when I find myself in such a deep valley, I wonder when—and if—it will ever end. I wonder what God's really up to. But as I make an effort to draw closer to Him, the details of His plan come more into focus, and I'm encouraged—and hopeful.

THE NUGGET OF HOPE

The closer we draw to God, the clearer and more majestic His plan becomes.

 


CHAPTER 4

DIFFERENT PATHS

DIFFERENT PATHS

Two lads conceived for special deeds
Down different paths the Lord would lead.

One strong, one weak, but both would seek
To serve their Master, hear Him speak.

For came the day He'd clearly say,
"It's time to go your separate ways.

"Though one take breath, the other death,
Your parents' roots will find new depth.

"It's for their sake I heal and break,
And length of days I give and take.

"This day's ordained for joy and pain,
But be assured you'll meet again.

"When sorrow's done and crowns are won
To both of you I'll say, 'Well done.'"

We rejoiced and wept with Jeff and Cindy Pascoe. They had eagerly awaited the birth of twins, but that long-awaited moment would be bittersweet. Isaac Wesley was stillborn, mingling tears of grief with the tears of joy that accompanied the birth of his brother, Phillip David.

I could not help but recall a similar situation some 12 years earlier when friends Gates and Diane Booth lost their little Timothy shortly before his birth. Here are portions of the letter I wrote them:

Letter—May 2, 1987

I am in the middle of preparing a lesson about wisdom from Job 28. But somehow I am finding it hard to concentrate because my thoughts keep turning to you. It was that way all last night. I woke up often, wondering how you were doing. I prayed and wanted to be there with you.

We grieve with you over the death of your son. In the providence of God, his life ended before it really began. Because of that, it would be easy to dwell on all the things that "could have been" but will never be. We have been through those feelings countless times, and I don't suppose that we will ever quit thinking of what "could have been" with our Jenny.

Some will try to comfort you by saying that because of the baby's handicaps, it's better this way. Certainly handicaps greatly complicate living, and all of us would choose a healthy child. We want the path of least resistance. But our ease in life is not God's primary concern, and He has not taken this child to spare you of any distress. God's ways are best, even if we don't immediately comprehend them.

(to be continued)

CLOSING THOUGHT

We are naturally drawn to the strong, the beautiful, the intelligent. But God's plan does not require human superiority. Why? That we might have no reason for pride.

But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong, and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are, so that no man may boast before God. (1 Corinthians 1:27-29)

He adequately and effectively equips us for the mission in life He has for us to do.

THE NUGGET OF HOPE

God's plan is uniquely suited to the mental, physical, and spiritual capacities He has given to each person.

 


CHAPTER 5

MIGHT-HAVE-BEENS

MIGHT-HAVE-BEENS

Some think that war's a faceless game
And never feel the awful cost
Of blood that's spilled in freedom's name
Which mounts as mothers' sons are lost.

I've seen a grave one mother tends,
Her inner battles not yet won,
Still clinging to the might-have-beens
That were not buried with her son.

Journal entry—May 24, 1998

Barrett and I are back from Walnut Grove Cemetery. We walked among the graves with Daddy as he related history and stories of many of those buried there. In a sense, his roots are in two worlds. Time passes day by day, and those who endure eventually find more acquaintances among the dead than the living.

How ironic for us to spend so much time and energy trying to figure out where we are and where we're going in life. We've seen a glimpse of that today—we're all in a relentless march to the grave. Though the time will vary, for each it takes a lifetime to reach that indeterminate point. And the longer we endure, the more acquaintances we have among the dead.

As is often the case, poignant scenes passed before me. One mother was decorating the grave of her son who had died a soldier at age 18. Though he's been in death for more years than he was in life, I can understand how much his mother still misses him.

Barrett and I stood side by side, gazing at the small photograph on his tombstone. Barrett finally broke our silence: "Dad! He was so young!" Yes, I thought, the very same age as you.

His life came and went so quickly. He was barely old enough to drive when he died for his country. For him it's over, but not for his mother. She's the one who visits his grave, perhaps posing an endless string of questions in her mind.

What would life have held had he lived? Would he have married and had children? How would he have handled joys and tears, success and failure? Would he have achieved prominence or obscurity, wealth or poverty?

The "might-have-beens" just go on and on.

(to be continued)

CLOSING THOUGHT

From time to time, I still wonder what might have been had our daughter Jenny not been retarded... or had she not died at such a young age. Such thinking always shrouds me in a cold fog of sad regret. But the fog quickly evaporates as I recount the measureless blessings that continue to stream from her brief life. The blank pages of the future remain to be filled with wondrous accounts of what might yet be.

THE NUGGET OF HOPE

Regardless of what might have been, God's plan for the future is always filled with the hope of what might yet be.