The Weight of Despair

Here we are already into the second month of 2025. Time truly does march on. And it does so without regard to how busy we may be or how much we would love for it to slow down at least a little so we could get everything done we need to… or at least think we need to. Now that I am in my late seventies, as I look back I see many places where I was so busy pursuing what I believed God had called me to do that I missed some very important divine interruptions—seeming distractions from the bigger picture, yet the will of God for me in that moment. Interruptions that could have made a difference in the life of another.

Let me share an experience where someone responded to just such an interruption by the Spirit of God and its effect on me: As I sat in my chair, a sense of being overwhelmed flooded over me as I thought about the magnitude of all I was facing. A feeling of hopelessness was gradually working its way into my mind and thought processes. Feeling too exhausted from the continual onslaught to resist what I knew was taking place inside my head, a thought began slithering across my mind: “Just give up. Your struggle is useless. If God was going to deliver you, He would have done it already.” I knew the origin of such a thought, but being weary of the battle, its suggestion almost seemed pleasant.

In a matter of moments, my chair, with me as its occupant, seemed to sink deep into the quicksand of despair. Darkness began to wrap its cold, ugly arms around me, embracing me as I sat, rebelliously refusing to struggle against it. “What are you doing? You know better than this. Be who you know you are. Stand up and shake this off.” These words marching authoritatively through my mind were right and true. But I didn’t seem to have the energy to obey. My lack of response to those words gave encouragement to the despair, working its way deep into my soul.

A Timely Rescue

Suddenly, I was jolted out of the moment, like a man being awakened from sleep, by the ringing of my phone. Clearing my head, I answered it. “Hey man,” the familiar voice said. It was a friend, a pastor in another state, calling. “Man, I’ve had you on my heart, so I just wanted to call and check on you.” I knew I could trust this brother. I believed in the sincerity of our friendship, so I opened my heart and shared what was going on inside me.

We talked for a while. His words were like oil being poured over me, like cool, refreshing water to a thirsty man. As he talked, the tentacles of despair began to fall powerless at my feet. I felt my soul rise out of the dark pit it had been sinking into. Light began to shine in my soul again. Hope began to bubble up like water from an Artesian well. By the time our conversation was through, I was renewed and ready to keep on standing until the battle was finished. His timely phone call had rescued my drowning soul.

The Power of Caring

I can’t remember the specific words he spoke in our conversation, but I do remember he cared. I remember that I no longer felt alone in what I was facing. I had a friend, a brother, to stand with me in my time of adversity. God brought me to the mind of my friend, Ronnie Trice, and he was not too busy to care enough to do something. I don’t know what the outcome would have been if he had not called. I’m glad I don’t know. I don’t know because Ronnie cared, and that is an amazing power in the life of one who needs it.

My dear friend Ronnie is in heaven now. He was a true friend to me, one of the best I have ever been privileged to have. Ronnie obeyed the Holy Spirit’s interruption. If we listen to the Holy Spirit, He will speak to us about our brothers and sisters who are in a battle and need our help. We don’t always need some great words of wisdom to share with them. Sometimes just the fact we care is enough.

Who is He speaking to you about?