When Your World Ends (eBook)

God's Creative Process for Rebuilding a Life

Dawn Mann Sanders (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
208 Seiten
IVP (Verlag)
978-1-5140-0826-3 (ISBN)

Infos

How do you rebuild your life after it falls apart? Catastrophic events often feel like the end of the world. When we feel like we have nothing left, we sometimes wish for our own end too. Yet God keeps waking us up every morning-a sign that God wants us to keep living when our world ends. We must find our way to the new life that awaits us on the other side of loss. But how? Dawn Sanders has traveled this path before and lived to tell the tale-not once but twice. After a divorce and then the sudden death of her second husband, Dawn discovered a buried treasure in Genesis 1: God's process for creating new life out of chaos. In When Your World Ends, Dawn digs deep into the creation story and unearths a seven-step process by which God brings us out of the void and into new beginnings. With her unique perspective, authenticity, and courage, Dawn meets those who are starting over and guides us into renewed hope.

Dawn Mann Sanders (MDiv, Bethel Seminary) is an associate minister at First Baptist Church of Glenarden (FBCG), where she serves as the director of the sermon-based life groups ministry. Her passion is expository teaching and sharing the wonderful insights God has shown her in his Word. She does this through writing weekly discussion guides for the life groups as well as teaching several in-depth Bible studies. Dawn has written and taught extensively on overcoming adversity and creating a new life, both at FBCG and on her personal blog.

Textauszug

2

It’s Just the Beginning

STARTING IS THE MOST DAUNTING PART of anything I do, especially after a catastrophic event. Haunting memories about the part of my life that just ended consume my thoughts, while destruction, devastation, and desolation threaten to overwhelm and paralyze me.

It was in this paralyzed state that I realized God was extending an invitation, beckoning me to join him in the creation of a new life—one without my husband, Reggie. I hesitated, paralyzed by the thought of leaving behind everything we’d built together.

You see, Reggie and I found each other later in life. We were both nearing the age of forty. Our paths crossed during a church doctrine class at our place of worship. Having endured our fair share of painful and unproductive relationships, we found joy and hope in each other’s presence.

The connection we forged was a testament to our deep desire for a healthy and loving partnership—the kind we’d always dreamed of. We envisioned growing old together, supporting and cherishing each other every step of the way. But sometimes life takes unexpected turns, and God’s plans don’t align with our own.

Merely two years after we exchanged vows everything changed, unexpectedly altering the trajectory of my life forever. As I grappled with the abrupt end of my marriage, I couldn’t help but wonder what God’s invitation meant. Should I move on and start anew? How could I when everything around me reminded me of Reggie? Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to his memory? How could I possibly fulfill this divine call while remaining true to my promise to stand by his side always? These were just some of the questions that occupied my thoughts as I struggled to make sense of the invitation before me.

But the promise between Reggie and me wasn’t for always, was it? The vow was “until death do us part.” Now, parted by death, God was challenging me to turn away from my past and separate from the glorious gift he’d given me—the love of my life. God was nudging me to turn to the future.

I sensed God’s call, yet when I looked to the future, all I could see were the broken remnants of my current situation. I couldn’t see the path, so I didn’t know which way to go.

Even as I began to dream again, I didn’t understand what to do with the picture forming in my mind. In my mind’s eye, I imagined where I wanted to be juxtaposed with where I was. I saw the barren wasteland I was in next to my new harvest, but I couldn’t see how to get from here to there. Whenever I tried to chart a path forward, I’d trip over the shattered pieces of my life.

How was I going to cultivate a bountiful harvest from this empty field? How could I piece together a brand-new life from these shards of my former self? My life with Reggie seemed a lifetime away. I was irritated I even had to try. Despite this hopeful vision, the confusion of contradictions—wasteland and harvest—left me retreating to the safety of inaction.

When Reggie had been alive, my heart was full. My life had meaning. I had hopes and dreams. Now in their place was a great big hunk of nothing. A vacuum had replaced the fullness; insignificance, the meaning; apathy, the hope; and nightmares, the dreams. And worst of all, I felt utterly helpless to do anything about it.

I had nothing.

Nothing but an invitation.

As that thought crossed my mind, another chased it away—a memory of something I heard Joyce Meyer once say: “Poor Joyce. All you have is God.” That’s exactly how I felt. “Poor Dawn. All you have is God.”

Writing that down shows me just how unbalanced I’d become. I was saying, “God, you’re not enough.”

An honest observance shows us that’s how we feel sometimes, isn’t it? Because we’ve lost so much, we ache with an ache so intense we miss recognizing what we have.

We have God . . .

. . . the most powerful force in the universe.

God . . .

. . . who’s in the habit of creating something out of nothing.

God . . .

. . . who’s had this habit from the beginning.

NO WAY, SHAPE, FORM, OR FASHION

In the Bible, the creation story starts—you guessed it—at the beginning. Ironically, though, the beginning didn’t start with God immediately creating something. Neither Genesis 1:1 nor 1:2 says, “Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light.” No, that doesn’t happen until verse 3. Here’s how the Bible begins:

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. (Genesis 1:1-2)

Unproductive and purposeless. The Bible introduces us to God as our Creator by declaring he created the heavens and the earth, then it proceeds to describe the state of the world before creation. God wants us to know what the world was like before he started to create.

The description opens by revealing that the earth was without form. The Hebrew word used here is tohu, and to the ancient Israelite audience, it meant something more than just shapeless. It meant “unproductive.”1 Think about it. Before God’s creative touch, the earth wasn’t producing anything or serving any purpose.

For the Israelites hearing this story, the word tohu would’ve really hit home. They’d just left Egypt, their home for over four centuries, traveled through the wilderness, and encamped at Mount Sinai, God’s holy mountain, while God communed with Moses.

During those days of awaiting Moses’ return, confusion and aimlessness consumed them. As they surveyed their surroundings, it became painfully clear that they were far from the Promised Land flowing with milk and honey that Moses had described. Back in Egypt they’d cried out to God for deliverance and Moses led them into the wilderness. The wilderness! Interestingly, some scholars even say tohu refers to a “wilderness”—a wild, untamed wasteland with absolutely no order where one can easily get lost. I can relate.2

Six months before Reggie passed, I quit my corporate job to work full-time for our ministry, A Cord of Blue. Our ministry served couples considering the transition from singleness to marriage. Reggie and I were a team, partners working together to support these couples, and now, with Reggie gone, I found myself questioning the future of A Cord of Blue. Even though I was in familiar surroundings—our home—I felt adrift. I’d lost my sense of purpose and motivation, my will to go on. How could I continue without him? It was like my life turned into one big wild, unproductive mess. Total tohu.

Historical parallels: Reconstruction. When living through the end of the world as you know it, you may feel unproductive and lost. Take the South after the Civil War. Remember your high school US history: General Sherman had plowed through the region burning everything in his path, leaving dust, ashes, and countless people homeless in his wake.

After the war, the South looked a lot like a wasteland. Everything familiar had changed or disappeared altogether. Those who owned property and plantations were threatened with the loss of their labor force due to the slaves’ freedom. The previously enslaved, though now free, faced the loss of their homes and livelihood, and they were food-insecure. Many people felt just as I did after Reggie’s death—lost, purposeless, and unproductive. Once again, tohu.

Historians don’t call that time period “Reconstruction” for nothing. And it wasn’t just about reconstructing buildings and roads. It was also about rebuilding lives and communities—finding a way to move forward from the rubble.

Now, if you’ve never experienced the depths of soul-crushing loss, it may be challenging to truly comprehend a life without purpose or productivity. However, for those of us caught in the clutches of such heartache, the struggle resonates deeply. Every day becomes a battle to find meaning, a quest for a reason to keep going. Our world undergoes a profound transformation, losing its familiar shape and morphing into an unrecognizable, unwelcome form. It feels desolate, as if nothing good can come from it.

Whether you’re stuck in a monotonous job that drains your energy and stifles your innovation or caught in an unfulfilling relationship that leaves you feeling stagnant and unappreciated, these unproductive situations can make you question the purpose of it all.

Or maybe you’ve had a creative project that initially showed promise, only to hit a wall of setbacks and obstacles that makes progress seem impossible. It’s like being trapped in quicksand, desperately trying to move forward but sinking deeper with each attempt.

And let’s not forget the unproductive moments when self-doubt creeps in, paralyzing your ability to make decisions and take action. You find yourself caught in a loop of indecision, unable to break free. Every day feels like the movie Groundhog Day, with no signs of growth or fulfillment.

If you’re like me, unproductive situations can feel like the end of the world. It’s as though they’ve stripped away our purpose and potential, leaving us feeling lost and alone. But here’s the thing—just as the wilderness was but a pit stop, a refueling station on Israel’s journey to the Promised Land, our unproductive situations are only...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 17.9.2024
• Vorwort: Carol Kent
• Verlagsort: Lisle
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Religion / Theologie ► Christentum ► Moraltheologie / Sozialethik
• Schlagworte: African • African American • aftermath • American • author • Black • black author • Black Church • Care • Christian • christian inspiration • christian living • Church • creation story • Dealing • Death • death of a loved one • devastating • dies • Divorce • Faith • Genesis • Genesis 1 • Grief • growth • Healing • Hope • husband • Inspiration • learning • Loss • loved • loved one • Memoir • moving • One • overcoming • Post • Post Traumatic Growth • Recovery • Spiritual • spiritual growth • spouse • Trauma • traumatic event • traumatic loss
• ISBN-10: 1-5140-0826-2 / 1514008262
• ISBN-13: 978-1-5140-0826-3 / 9781514008263