The Hope That Is In You
~1 Peter 3:13-17
1 Peter 3:15 is often used as the grounding text for apologetics. For ontological argument, for proof of the resurrection, for the origin of the world. And that is always how I've seen apologetics. Apologetisc is a place to debate nonbelievers on the existence and goodness of God and to prove the Christian ethic in the face of criticism.
But earlier this year I was listening to Preston Perry, and he used this same verse for apologetics. Only he showed it through a different lens. He talked about his grandmother being able to give a reason for the hope that was in her. Being able to defend her faith. Not through a rhetorical argument but through Christ in her--through her testimony.
Far too many Christians fail to engage with nonbelievers who have big questions about the Bible and God, and I think these questions are important. I think wrestling is important. And even though it takes me a while to process, I've been growing in being able to engage in this way. My training ground has been a Marco Polo with a group of family members, believers and nonbeliever (yeah, our ratios are a bit off).
And while that's good, I realized recently that I can fail to share the hope that is in me when I don't know how to back it up with argument.
A lot has happened in September of 2024.
At the beginning of September I had no job (I quit at the end of August), no health insurance, and my first sprained foot.
Mid-September my life-long best friend died.
At the end of September Hurricane Helene struck Northeast TN and Western NC and devastated town after town.
I remember a college lecture discussing Alfred Lord Tennyson's In Memoriam and how as people, we're always wishing away time. In that season it was wishing it were Spring Break, but I've seen this so often in my adult life. When months or seasons are hard, people start wishing they would end and that they could start fresh with a new month.
It was expected when the conversations I had with loved ones on the natural disaster turned to conversations on how hard the month was and being ready for it to be over. When I interjected that I've loved September, my friends commiserated with me on how it's such a good month that was ruined.
But I corrected them--I love this September. September 2024, full of all its devastation.
I knew I was stepping into unemployment. I knew God was calling me to leave my job. I hoped my unemployment season wouldn't be long, but I knew it would be testing. It would increase my dependence on God and my trust in Him even though He had already provided for me through money I had stored away. But I was wrong. My unemployment wasn't the test but the provision. When my foot couldn't bear the weight of my daily work tasks, when my mind refused to function after the loss of my friend, when my region saw so much devastation and needed help--I couldn't imagine working even if I had the ability, and I didn't have to.
God taught me profound personal lessons on resting and receiving in that first week of grief, but I also realized the provision of His timing. The job I didn't have to work and the vacation time I'd used up right before my last day to visit my friend, not knowing it would be for the last time. God had provided for me before my need was ever present.
I wanted to share that provision with my family, but I heard my brother's voice in my head. I heard him interpret it as God preparing to kill my friend. He had been so gracious in my grief to listen to how God had been moving in my heart, but if He pushed back against this, how could I respond? What argument could I give? I didn't know, so I stayed silent.
And I saw that again as Helene ravaged my region. None of us knew the danger we were in. Flash flood warnings are a dime a dozen, and they often mean some flooded back roads and basements. High winds aren't that unusual either when hurricanes are present in the coastal states, and they sometimes take tree limbs with them. But we're always far from the source of the storm. None of us anticipated this. We don't get tropical storms in this part of the world. We don't get the kind of flooding that washes away homes.
When my power went out on September 27, I thought we had been badly affected by the storm. Then I saw the footage. I saw the hospital 27 minutes from my house with water 10 feet from its roof and patients and staff who were stranded on top. The current was too strong for a boat rescue; the wind too high for a helicopter. They waited hour after hour until the winds calmed enough for rescue. I saw the highway become a riverbed. My sister's best friend got in touch to share how her and her young kids had almost been trapped in the middle of the road before making it back to a home without power, without clean water, and with limited food; her husband parked at a conscience store and waded through water to make it back to them as the waters continued to flood their street and city. I saw their city become a river, bridges collapse, roads sink.
The Nolichucky River flooded homes, the downpour of rain ran from the mountains into businesses, lives were swallowed up.
Loved ones in the city between us were evacuated from the downtown area as it started to fill with water. The property damage is significant. The danger was real. And it was nothing compared to Erwin or to the devastation we started to see as it hit NC.
And my family? Our city is fine. We lost power. Food went bad. Our homes are safe. Our lives are intact. One sibling had five big trees come down in his yard, and the only damage was to his deck; truly a miracle his home and family were safe. I had a clothing rack outside from a yard sale; not a hanger was out of place.
And in the tension of this devastation, in worry and concern, in deep intercession for my neighbors, the praise of Psalm 34 poured from my lips. I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Because in all of this pain and suffering, we were safe. God protected us when we never even knew we were in danger.
Prayer rose back up with no words to hold it as after all of this, we were told the dam's failure was imminent. The ones who would be most affected were the ones who were already trapped in what was left of their homes without a way out. That dam took on almost double the amount of gallons of water per second as Niagara Falls during its peak, and it held. It held. It held.
Praise was inescapable.
And I wanted to share it with my family. But again, I worried over my brother's response. That I would do more harm than good. That he'd ask how I can believe in a good God in the face of my neighbors losing everything. In the face of 73 locals missing and worse the further out we got. I heard him asking why God protected us and not others. And I don't know if these are the questions he would've asked, but I didn't know how to argue in defense of my own praise for the God who preserved me. I imagined him pointing out how we can be grateful because we didn't lose anything, and I honestly didn't know if I could be if I had faced worse destruction, let alone devastation.
But as I told my friends that I loved September, I was reminded of Preston Perry's words. God's primary means of restoring the world is His people, and for the most part it isn't through their well-reasoned arguments but through the testimony of their lips. And I was going to keep that testimony to myself because I was afraid I didn't have the rhetorical ability to defend it.
I can't give an answer to the loss of a friend or the devastation of a region that will satisfy us in the midst of our suffering except the presence of the Suffering Servant. I don't have the arguments, but I have the praise. I don't know if I'd be able to praise God if I lost everything, but I know God has filled me with praise in the midst of my grief over a dear friend. I know He's worked in my heart to do what I never thought was possible (because it wasn't in me) whether it was giving me peace, contentment, trust, praise, etc. I know my God is big. I know my God is good. I know in the midst of tragedy, I felt overwhelmed by gratitude and praise. And I know that's a testimony worth sharing.
That is my defense. That is the reason for the hope that is in me. My God is good, and He does not change. My God is with me. Through every storm and gale.
And whether that's thanksgiving for my protection or His presence in my suffering, my hope is Him. That is my apologetic. The gospel is the foundation for it all. It's not about arguments because arguments are never enough. Arguments are productive for understanding, for addressing, for grounding, but they cannot give the hope of a life lived for Christ.
Our call is to be faithful and not to convince. And that's true whether we're sharing a rhetorical proof or a personal testimony. God is the only One who saves. And that's the truth in which I want to live my life. Always prepared to make a defense for the reason for the hope that is in me with gentleness and respect.
Please say a prayer for the areas affected by Helene when you read this. And if you can't do anything else, know that prayer is the most powerful tool we have. It sustains those on the ground. It mobilizes. It changes things.
Pray for those who have lost loved ones.
Pray for those who have lost their homes and businesses.
Pray for those who are missing and for those who are missing them.
Pray for relief and rescue efforts. For first responders and for volunteers. For those fixing power lines and clearing roads.
Pray for communities. Pray that those affected would band together and that those on the outskirts would band around them.
Pray for restoration. That roads and homes would be fixed and rebuilt. That jobs and schools would reopen. That hearts would find the hope of Jesus.
Pray for resources. That those without gas, food, power, water, shelter, would find access. And that as neighboring communities empty their stores to offer aid, resources would come from further and further out to be sent to the people who need them most.
Pray for comfort. Pray for hope. Pray that eyes would be tuned to praise, to seeing miracles and provision, in the midst of so much devastation. Pray for hearts found in the suffering servant amidst the cry of lament. Pray for strength and rest--seeing the amount of devastation wreaked when waters overflow their banks, how much more restoration can be done when the people of God overflow with His power in our communities?
Reference to Preston Perry: https://www.instagram.com/withtheperrys/reel/C54cQEHtFAM/
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