What is it? Come on, you can tell me.
Because everybody’s got something.
No matter who you are, however old or young, there’s always at least one thing. That thing in your life you can’t seem to—you know, escape or fix or solve. It’s just . . . it’s . . .
(Sigh.)
It’s always there. Just when you think you’ve maybe figured out a little piece of it—how you might be able to handle it better, manage it, work around it, or get out ahead of it—it always seems to end up beating you, even if only to keep you awake in the wee hours of the night.
You’ve tried. (Oh, Lord, how you’ve tried.) You’ve prayed. You’ve asked. You’ve begged. You’ve fretted. You’ve calculated. You’ve eaten better. You’ve exercised more.
You feel like you’ve done everything you can think of. And honestly, you’re starting to seriously wonder now if God can do this, if He can do . . . It.
Do It? What is it? It’s okay. Be honest. Name it. Might make it easier on you, I guess, if I go first, huh? So I’ll start. Because, you know, I’ve got a few Its myself. Surprised? You shouldn’t be.
Here, hold my purse while I climb down from whatever pedestal you may have placed me on so we can talk eye to eye. I know how it happens: we see a speaker on stage, read the words of an author, or follow someone on social media, and somehow we think they’ve got it all together. I’ve done the same thing. I’ve often catapulted mere humans to superhuman status and assumed they couldn’t possibly struggle with the same problems the rest of us face.
But, no, I’ve learned they’re not any more exempt from life’s difficulties than anybody else. And neither am I. Like you, I’ve seen my share of situations that have been so difficult or have caught me so off guard, they’ve carved out a deep foothold where doubt could settle in. And yet God loves me far too much—same as He loves you—to let me walk away from them. Because if you and I don’t turn to face these things, we’ll never come face to face with Him.
So, yes, I’ll start:
- Twenty-five years ago, I didn’t believe He could heal my broken heart.
- Twenty-two years ago, I wasn’t certain He’d be able to save my marriage.
- Twenty years ago, I wondered if He was able to let me safely bear a child.
- Fifteen years ago, I struggled to believe He could stabilize my son’s crippling fear and anxiety.
- Fourteen years ago, I had only a thin shred of hope that He could salvage a cherished friendship.
- Ten years ago, I didn’t see how He’d be able to sustain us financially.
- Five years ago, after we’d packed up our home to move, and then the seller backed out at the last minute, I wondered if we’d be able to find another place to live.
- Three years ago, after losing eight family members to death in quick succession, I questioned if He could reignite my creativity and passion out of the doldrums of grief and sadness.
- Two years ago, after hearing my doctor say the shocking words “lung cancer” in his diagnosis of my health, I wondered if God could save my life.
And listen, that’s just the past twenty-five years. I’ll spare you my whole life story in hopes you won’t check me off your reading list. (Alrighty, then, hand me back my purse.)
The fact is, I have never had much trouble believing in the power of God when it was theoretical, when all the action my faith required of me was saying “Amen” during a sermon. As long as the problem was somebody else’s, I could believe in God’s big-time ability with a big old sense of gusto.
I remember it well, the good, old-school “testimony service” at my childhood church, where folks would come forward to declare the work of God in their lives. No doubt one of the church ladies would be sporting a fancy church hat (with a feather or some other décor hanging off of it) as she stood in front of the congregation and filled the microphone with all the things God had been up to—everything from the foreclosure notice on her house to the repossession order for her car, to her unfaithful husband, to her rebellious child being supernaturally transformed by God’s miracle-working power. As children, my siblings and I would sit in the pews during this stirring part of the service, listening to the lady’s voice grow deeper and more forceful with each new revelation. That feather on top of her velvet hat would dance a little jig, which would always capture our attention. We tried to listen—promise we did—but sometimes we couldn’t help but nudge each other and giggle. We were hoping her hat, or at least the bouncy feather on it, would come flying off her head into the front pew, just to make things really exciting. But Mommy wasn’t having any of that. She’d tell us to quiet down and sit up straight. And listen. So we did. Then we applauded with the rest of the congregation in celebration not only of what God could do but what He was actually doing.
Yup, faith seemed easier then.
But not anymore. When I’m staring now at my own dilemmas, trying to keep the hat of sanity on my own head, God’s ability doesn’t always seem like such a sure thing. When it’s my mom who’s dying from a terminal illness, when it’s my housing situation that’s uncertain, when it’s one of my sons who’s dealing with a set of unjust circumstances, I’m not always so quick to trust. Sometimes a seed of doubt surprises me by taking root and often blossoming into a whole forest of questions about His ability and/or willingness to take care of such things.
Somehow, I think you can relate.
In the midst of these various challenges and struggles that come together to threaten my sense of security, stability, and balance, I’ve learned a couple of significant truths that have reshaped my perspective on life and faith. First, I am incapable of fixing everything. In fact, if I ever think otherwise, if I try to control all the variables myself, I will remain in a chronic state of frustration and discouragement.
But I’ve also learned something else—something that has changed my entire life.
God is able to fix anything.
Time and again, He has proven plainly to me that He is not held down by what holds us. He has bowled me over with His capacity and inclination to do the unthinkable, both in my own life as well as in the lives of those who are attached to me. As surely as He’s tested me, He has also given me testimony. And it would be a grand cover-up on my part not to tell His part of the story in the same big, bold colors.
Excerpted with permission from God is Able, 10th Anniversary Edition by Priscilla Shirer. Copyright 2023, B&H Publishing.
ABOUT GOD IS ABLE
I wrote the first edition of this book a decade ago. I was young and confident. Then ten years happened. To me. To you. To us.
I’m not quite as young as I once was, but I am still as confident as ever in this undeniable fact: our God is able. While so much in all our lives has changed, He has remained the same. His capacity, character, and compassion have not shifted an inch because His power is supernatural, is never diminished, and is ever available to His children.
God is able.
Whether you and I have crossed paths in these pages before or it’s your first time to savor the beautiful truths found in Ephesians 3:20–21, I invite you to join me in this ten-years-wiser, updated edition, where I hope you’ll be reminded that your Father is able to take you above whatever you’ve been living beneath.
He’s done it before.
He’ll do it again.
Priscilla
ABOUT PRISCILLA SHIRER
Through the expository teaching of the Word of God, Priscilla Shirer desires to see people not only know the uncompromising truths of Scripture intellectually, but experience them practically by the power of the Holy Spirit. Founder of Going Beyond Ministries with her husband Jerry, Priscilla is the author of more than a dozen books and Bible studies on a myriad of topics and biblical characters.
