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Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 5:3

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This verse used to bother me a lot growing up. I had a strong “Word of Faith” upbringing and refused to accept the identity of Poor or Impoverished. What is it to be a pauper in spirit? 

The Hebrew word ptōchos means a spirit that is begging and destitute of wealth. The state in which your spirit is an absolute vacuum, empty, formless, and hungry for something to fill it. That’s the spirit Christ chose to begin with in the Beatitudes; the one He runs to fill; a person who knows they need God more than anything on the face of the planet, and their spirit is starving for it. 

All of us in this Western World live by “God helps those who help themselves”. And even those who refuse to acknowledge it, if they were really honest, would admit that they trust in themselves, their wealth and intelligence far more than they spiritually should. There is nothing biblical about “God helps those who help themselves”. God rolls his eyes at the man who thinks he can do it without Him, crosses His arms, leans back and says, “when you realize you are not god, I’ll be here waiting.” 

God helps those who get over themselves and cry out for help. 

There will never come a day when God stops chasing after you. He is waiting for us to get to the end of our spirit, the end of our personal abundance, and cry out for His; to that person, he comes to fill it; to the person who has lost all meaning, love and hope, He runs to them.

If a poor spirit is an empty vacuum, he wants to fill it. He wants to take the lost broken pieces of your heart and make a new delicate and glorious piece of pottery from them. He wants to take the piece that was thrown away and build a foundation on it. He wants to take the foolish things of the world and make leaders of them. 

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I long to be desperate. I’m not merely adamant; I am desperate for this desperation. 

Yet I fear what it means to long for desperation, for I know what it requires. I am nearly as afraid of this as I am afraid of what it is to be without it. I hope the reader can understand this in their soul; desperation for God is the fear of Him; the longing for His absolute hand. And it is a fearful thing to fall into His hands. But I fear more of being absent from them.

There is something happening in my spirit that is further than I’ve ever gone before. And with it, a growing disturbance; that at the edge of this new thing, is the loss of everything that was once me—relationships, personality, dreams will all disappear and become subject to the Person of Christ. Thus, every couple weeks, I pull back and wind up back where I was; pitiful and selfish, lusting after the approval of men and women. But I believe the relapses are growing shorter and shorter still. Confidence replaces arrogance; truth replaces pride; discernment replaces bitterness; faith replaces fear. 

I have spent a year with no understanding of my life’s meaning; tossed to and fro like a reed in the wind along the river bank. I have no idea what story God is creating anymore, because I have given up trying to force it. And it is this desperation that we must long for as Followers; that which Christ compels us to reach for; but we are so afraid. 

This is why the love of money is the root of all evil. With money, I can decide where, how, why, and what my life will mean. I am in complete control with money; therefore, I am god of my life. But absent money, resources, ability, favor, talent, we are like the panting deer, wondering if today she will find food and water or be killed and eaten. Today, her life is utterly and terribly in the hands of her Creator. 

I haven’t had a job or income for an entire year now. For six months, my family lived without any source of money, save God. And by the end of the period, we had ten times as much money in our savings than when I left my job.; miraculous and generous blessings that came from foreign and nonsensical sources, and always Desperation yielded such results. I have not the pride to act as though I did not curse God, shake my fist, and scream in agony for what He put me through. 

But I know that I have put this upon myself; a lifetime of crying to God for Him to “find me, break me, put me back together, wash me, hold me in His arms forever.” I have cried such things, and was foolish enough to let Him. Now in the turmoil of a life in His hands, I live desperate for more Desperation. Oh, what a merry-go-round!

Three times in my life, I have felt absolute and definite misery. (Though, other moments I perhaps thought were far worse than they actually were.)

Once: when my parents told me they would divorce; here, I found myself at a pond, beating my face in with my fist and crying out to God. He heard me and came in the form of a church and friends that would give me a safe place to grow, learn, and worship for years to come while my parents were lacking. 

Twice: when my son was intubated, squeezing my finger for life, and begging me to help him with his inaudible delicate eyes; here, I collapsed in a sunken puddle of faithless worry, the feeling of fraudulent faith heaping on my shoulders; too great to carry. God heard me and answered in the voice of my wife and friend: “by His stripes, our son is healed”; “did you think living a life of faith was going to be easy?” 

Thrice: when my ministerial world was shattered after a lifetime of dedicating my ambition and time to it. I no longer felt I could trust anyone I followed or led alongside. Here, I was abandoned in a whirlwind of doubt and mountain of fear; thrown to the side and forgotten like discarded trash. But He was with me and held me in His arms. He sent those who could cry and listen and bless, and while nothing has made sense, our hearts have been full knowing that He sees us, is with us, and this was His will. 

You must understand that my eyes cannot stay dry when writing such words, and I refuse to allow you to pity them. It is this pain and suffering that produces passion like a mother produces a child. It is through this, healed and saved by grace, that I can stand and declare the Truth of Jesus Christ. Places where most men and women fall and give-up on faith; these are the places I have deepened my understanding that Christ is far richer, fuller, and more powerful than my parents, child, or ministry. In Christ alone is fulfillment, and only until we understand this can we walk full of joy in the face of tribulation. Christ came to give joy in tribulation, not joy absent it. 

Thrice these moments of absolute misery invaded my life that led to absolute Desperation. In the first, though long and arduous, my agony was short-felt, shrouded behind the absent-mindedness of adolescent life. In the second, my time in the hospital with Harvey was 26 days of Heaven and Hell duking it out before our eyes, and every day, Heaven prevailing; a constant and powerful testimony of truth and power. Hell, yes, was present, but only for the first half, until we understood fully what Christ was doing through our son’s life.

…But this third time; this desperate, confusing, holy, terrible, and despicable wildness that has surrounded my life for the last year has been long-suffering that I have never felt before. 

My absolute moment of Desperation was sometime in November/December of 2022, when I lost faith in…everything. I left the house, eager to make a sliver of money Door-dashing, but was met by bumper-to-bumper traffic on the north end of Merritt Island; not one vehicle moved for 90 minutes. Here, the bubbling pain erupted; I had lost faith in myself, my wife, our purpose, my life, and wanted to give up on all of it. I was ready to end my life then and there if it would somehow provide for my family. 

I screamed to God. I hadn’t lost faith in His presence, but I had lost faith in whatever the Hell He was doing with me. I screamed, begged, pleaded, and demanded He do something. I had sown my whole life into His hands. Given everything, and what’s more, put every bit of my future on the line. I had stood up for what I believed righteous and holy, and listened to Him, and walked away from the only job I ever loved; it wasn’t a job; it was my identity. And, God knows, that was the biggest mistake I could have ever made. I had made ministry and the praise or admonishment of others far greater than my identity as a Son of God. At first, when I left my job, it started out exciting and fulfilling; I experienced the presence of God and His will in it. But I would discover the roller-coaster had more valleys than mountains.

“I gave everything to You! I trusted You! Do something! Do something! Right now!” I screamed until I had nothing left in my lungs.

In that instant of crying out—(my God, it’s amazing how I can relive this feeling and moment in an instant and tears fill my eyes)—my friend Bryan called me. I looked at the phone and immediately declined it. I hadn’t the ability to act like I was “okay”, and that everything was great in my life, and assure him I had made the right choice walking away from ministry. I hadn’t the power to lie to him or myself again. So I declined his call and resolutely gave up on my prayer to God. 

Eventually, I got out of traffic. I made my way back home after another thirty minutes and quietly went to sleep. Along with my inability to “fake happiness”, I hadn’t the ability to express my pain to my wife. So I slept. 

The next morning, I poured out my soul to Carlia. I told her I doubted everything I had ever done. I told her I was afraid my purpose on earth was done and that I was meant to die. I told her I didn’t know how to provide for her and our children anymore and that I seriously considered ending my life to acquire a life-insurance policy for her. 

(It’s funny, because even now, I’m weeping, not for sorrow, but joy. And my dogs run to my side to lick my face and assure me that everything is going to be alright.)

At the kitchen table in our previous home, my wife held my hand and told me she believed in me; and what’s more, in what God was doing in our lives. We decided to get out of the house, and all of us, even Maple (our dog and undoubtedly one of my best friends) to go hiking in Little Big Econ Forest. We packed up the car and left. 

God found me again in those woods, and I remembered that all I ever loved or needed was His presence, my family, and a forest. 

When we finished hiking and Carlia took the children to the bathroom, Bryan called me again. I had reacquired the ability to fake happiness for him, so I answered this time. He told me that Accounting had messed something up on last year’s W-2; I had an envelope with a Corrected W-2 waiting for me at the church. I would have to file my taxes again and perhaps would make $50 or so through it. I told him “thanks” and moved on with our day. 

The following evening, I was preparing to leave the house, Door-dashing, when Carlia encouraged me to file the Corrected W-2; in her mind, if it made us $50, that was a night’s worth of Door-dashing, and enough reason to spend the night together. I conceded and went to work on the taxes while she prepared dinner. And then God shattered my world again. 

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Desperation is the spirit of a pauper, and Christ calls it blessed. We are blessed when we come to Him poor of ourselves and desperate for Him. I have lived a year without a job, now, and six months of that time my wife has been able to “flutter” at a job that she loves and fulfill a lifelong dream of her own—a dream, that she had given up on to let me lead as a pastor, and to mother our children. Our children have matured and grown in their understanding of real faith and joy, as they have seen and heard these stories and conversations as well. We have kept nothing of our pain and faith from our children, encouraging them to pray and believe, and thus, they have seen the moving hand of God in our lives. Desperation is the life panting after Christ, and without any of our own devices or means.

When I completed the adjusted taxes, it declared we had nearly $9,000 waiting for us from the IRS. Money that should have come to us eight months prior, but God held back for when we would need it most; in a time of Desperation, and crying out, He heard me and answered. “Do something”. And He did, long before I ever knew I needed it. 

Now, the cynic will say that “God didn’t supply that, the IRS and a mistake did.” And I’ll say, “you’re a fool” and stop reading my words because it’s clearly going in one ear and out the other. Our God saw our end from our beginning and held the reins. And He still is. He gave us a way to live without a job for another six months. And that was only the beginning of His wild blessings. 

I confidently declare that my moment of Desperation was the turning point in our dark season. From there, doors began opening and closing that we find hilarity in. And while I refuse, for now, to share the depths of such things, I can say that the difficulties have refused to end, and my pain and suffering is still very present; but greater than all these things is the Love, Presence, and Faithfulness of God and the fruit it produces in our lives. 

We are healed, made perfect in the image of Christ and nothing can change that. A life of desperation is a life that lets loose of all assumption, expectation, and provision; it is a life that follows only Christ, and every day is both the adventure of life and death.

At one point in time, man lived like the animal; he worked with his hands, did his best to till and hunt, but ultimately relied on God to bring the rain, sunshine, and food he needed. He was okay dying at the age of thirty, because he knew he lived his lot for his Creator, just as the deer is fine with today being the beginning or the end. This Poor Spirit is desperately needed in the Church again, for boys to become real men and girls to become real women; no longer subject to our ability, money, or resources; but desperate and defeated apart from God.

I cry for Desperation in my life; yet I fear what it will produce in the short-term, on the path to the long-term beauty. God is not finished, and He will not be this side of Heaven. And all I can say to you through this—I encourage—I plead—I beg of you—get Desperate for God; uncomfortable with comfort; agitated by mediocrity; and long for holiness, righteousness, and God’s will to be done on earth as it is in Heaven. But prepare for the consequences of such a thing.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 5:3

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