To be honest, if someone had come alongside me at that point and tried to reassure me by saying, “God won’t give you more than youcanhandle, ” I may have punched them square in the face. The words that are meant for encouragement can often serve to only create discouragement.
Worse yet, this phrase can tempt us to ignore our suffering and pretend it’s not there. To answer that question, we need to go back 2,000 years to a small church in the city of Corinth.
Paul’s warning is tied to the reality of temptation and sin that meets us every day. A few months ago, I sat with a good friend who had just learned of his son’s terminal diagnosis.
He wept and said, “I’d do anything to give my life for him.” It was one of the most powerless feelings I have ever experienced. See Clothe night before Jesus was executed, He cried out in the garden, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38).
Jesus told His father, “This is too much for me !” We see this kind of thing in the Psalms, too. The Psalmists ball their fists in rage, and shout at God, “Why have you forsaken me ?” (Psalm 22) In their sadness they say, “darkness is my closest friend” (Psalm 88).
This is why Peter instructs the Church to cast our fears, worries, suffering and pain on God. When we are willing to sit in the pain, to walk with one another when life’s path is difficult and to shoulder one another’s burdens when they are too heavy, we become an embodied promise.
We become living proof that while life can sometimes be too much, through the goodness of our loving of God displayed within us, we can move forward together. After some hesitation, you take his hand and follow him back out into the corridor.
He leads you through a few hallways and then up into a short tower. The door is locked, so you wait for Born to unlock it, and then you follow him inside.
As you look around, you realize that it's like a room that was never used properly. Dust covers the floors, the walls are all dusty and some random vine is growing in through the window, there are cobwebs coating everything, and the only piece of furniture is a small table in the middle of the room.
A thick, bronze-colored book sits on the table. Born walks over to the table and opens the book, gesturing for you to look at the pages.
You steel your shoulders and stand up a little straighter. He nods and waves his hand over the page like he's sprinkling something over the old paper.
“Aryan's going to kill me, ” Born mutters under his breath. The man holds out his arms in front of the woman, who tries to escape with the baby.
The man fights the winged people, throwing punches and trying desperately to protect the woman. He knocks the three people down, and the man, woman, and baby make a run for it through the front door.
They flee down the hill and start to go through a forest when the three winged people catch up to them. The man turns around and waves at the woman to go on.
She turns and runs away through the forest and the man spins around to face the three intruders. The man is flown back into a tree, and when he falls to the ground, he doesn't move.
The three winged people run through the woods, following the woman at breakneck speed. The ink moves again, and it shows the woman walking briskly toward a building, periodically looking behind her for pursuers.
She walks up to the building and places her baby at the doorstep, kissing the child's forehead before banging on the door, and hiding behind a bush. “"Prophecies aren't set in stone,” Born says, then he frowns.
Your anger starts to rise, and you breathe hard through your nose. Born raises his fist in warning, but Felix holds his ground.
Felix cries out, and the hawk lands on his shoulder.” You're going to regret that,” Born growls, and he lunges at Felix.
You take a deep breath, not knowing what exactly you were doing, but knowing just how to do it, and you thrust both your hands out, palms facing Born and Felix. Both boys are flung away from each other, Phoenix flying into the air in alarm.
“We'll hide the truth from Aryan as long as we can, but it's best he doesn't find out right away.” Dist yr yells, his cheeks scarlet.
Without waiting to see if you'll take his hand, he pulls you to your feet. Born looks at the open book laying on the table.
“Um, Dist yr,” you stammer as he lifts your chin up with one finger.” Yes?” He murmurs, brushing your hair from your face.
“M-maybe we shouldn't-” you start to say, but he puts his finger to your lips. “Shh,” he whispers, his lips a breath away from your own.
“Your eyes grow wide as he leans forward, about to kiss you. Dist yr nods, looks at you for a moment with an apologetic look, and then heads back to the castle.
He usually doesn't try to kiss girls he just meets, but I guess he likes you.” Aryan avoids your gaze and looks back down at the ground, the muscles in his face tight, like he's trying really hard to hide his emotions.
You ask, finally finding your voice. “Yeah, I'm...” he starts to say, but then he stops, shaking his head slightly.
You start to leave, trying to look at his face as you pass. “Aryan's head snaps around and his expression is hopeful.
Sam is a hell of a lot of vixen, huge tits, big perky ass. Just big in all the right ways of course, she packs them while still maintaining a tight fit body everywhere else.