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by: Chris Jackman Now here I was, secretly living in a cold, wet unfinished basement of a commercial building where I had my office. --------------------------------- Maybe it’s because I’m an American. Not an American from the early colonial years facing winter hardship and starvation . . . Or an American, circa 1776, fighting for freedom in the revolutionary war . . . Or an American, circa Civil War, risking much to help free slaves . . . Or an American, circa 1929, enduring the Big Crash, eating lard sandwiches . . . Or an American, circa 1945, sacrificing for the war effort . . . No, I am an American, circa 2007. Born and bred, not in a briar patch, but on superstores and microwaves, MTV and American Idol, moon landings and computers, smart houses and garage door openers. I pace in front of my microwave, developing a business plan in my head, while talking on the cell phone, as I brainstorm client ideas in my subconscious. I’ve elevated multi-tasking to an art form. TV Preachers expound if you obey the Lord, you’ll live a blessed life. Wealth and prosperity are the mark of a life well lived in the eyes of God. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t prepared for what happened. In the spring of 1998, I clearly felt the push, pull and tug of the Lord on me to take action. It was “a calling.” Firmly believing that God was capable of doing anything, I plunged ahead, my faith flying high, like a banner in the breeze. At first, it was amazing. I saw the Lord open doors and provide everything we needed and more. But then, the opposition found us. Financial provision slowed, volunteers were almost impossible to find, and prayer warriors were few. Many nights would find me face down on the floor in tears, pleading with God to rescue me, and this ministry He had called me to. As soon as the ministry work began to become difficult, some people (Americans, circa 2007) advised me to quit. Some offered advice based on worldly business principles. Some attacked my leadership abilities. Some would suggest that, “There must be sin in your life. That’s why God isn’t blessing you.” Modern day Job’s Friends were in abundance. Then, like a cool cup of water, there were those who understood the intensity of spiritual warfare. Some would truly pray and encourage me. Some would offer practical hands on help. Some would give financial support. I am forever grateful for these brave souls who went against the tide. You know who you are. And so does God. Letters from around the country by those grateful for the work of the ministry made it worthwhile and kept me going. But eventually, when I lost my house due to financial pressures, my banner of faith fell to the ground. I knelt beside it in the dust weeping. “My God, my God. Why have You forsaken me?” In my head I knew differently, but in my humanness, it felt like He had dropped me like a discarded toy. Soon sadness turned to anger, anger to depression. I had believed that if I were doing what God had asked, I would be protected and provided for. Now here I was, secretly living in a cold, wet unfinished basement of a commercial building where I had my office. No washer or dryer, no yard, no garage, no stove/oven, no windows, no bed, no bathtub or shower, and often little or no money. But I was thankful that the rent was cheap and that I had a roof over my head. It could have been worse. From that cold commercial basement office, I would finish up on transferring the ministry to the branch in Illinois and hand over the last project I had been working on over my founding partner in California. I was too beat up emotionally and spiritually to continue. How could I lead or be involved in any ministry with this frame of mind and spirit? For a long time, I couldn’t bring myself to step foot into a church, listen to a “Christian” song, or pray. I was angry. Why should I give or do anything for this God who abandoned me? I didn’t understand. But God did. He gently lead me through the grief process of losing just about everything I held dear: financial security, my home, people’s belief in my ability, even basic necessities like food and toilet paper. After leaving ministry work, I thought I’d have a new job in a couple weeks. Wrong. After being turned down time and again (even for jobs I was over qualified for) I decided I would interview and hire myself. It was a tough interview, but I got the job: building a new business called, Hemline Creative Group. This new business played to all my strengths and was my dream job. I remember thinking, “But God…this can’t be what you want for me…I love doing this stuff.” I had to learn that He doesn’t always teach with pain and suffering as my upbringing lead me to believe. He does “delight to give good gifts.” But building a new business is tough. It takes time, as any entrepreneur will tell you. Often people would advise me to get a “regular” job instead, which usually consisted of a low paying, no future job that would only sap all my strength, ensuring that I would stay in the cycle of poverty. So I continued walking this new path that God had set me on and He worked, not just to restore me to Him, but also to teach me. Living in poverty changed me. My compassion deepened to an experiential level. Before, I had only a keyhole perspective on poverty, now God had set me inside the room. And the view was harsh. He was toughening me up and teaching me gratitude. Somehow in all of that, He coaxed me back to Him and I reached out with the shaky, rubber-legged steps of the One Who Returns. One day, as I was praying, unexpectedly the scene of Jesus on the beach with Peter came to mind. Jesus was poking at the fish sizzling in the pan over the fire when He looked up and said, “Peter, do you love me more than these?” It was as if Jesus was saying to me, “Chris, do you love me even more than your basic needs? I’ve taken away the ministry you loved, your house, your financial security. If I took away even your basic needs, would you still love me?” “No, Lord, “ I said, “I have to be honest with you. I’d have to say that I didn’t.” I wept, disgusted with myself. I was an American, circa 2007, entitled to success, financial security, and pan-fried-garlic crusted Mahi Mahi. Time after time, financial pressures would rob my peace as I worked day and night to survive. Then one day, as I worked at my computer, fighting the spiders that would fall onto my hair, I heard the sound of hammers. I walked to the one window well that offered at least a view of a thin strip of sky. The rest of the windows were covered with an opaque, white plastic that allowed diffused light. In response to my report that rain would pour down the walls and across the floors, the landlord was attempting to solve the problem. The solution: boarding up all the windows. As I sat stunned, one by one the windows went dark. I watched as my one little strip of sky disappeared. With every blow of the hammer, it felt like I was being sealed into a crypt. Despair flooded over me. I was already experiencing depression from the lack of sunshine. Then the phone rang: another creditor. “God, where are You?” my heart cried. I felt like Joseph in the dungeon. Late one night, I came back to my “home” office. As I was struggling to juggle bags and purse while opening the door, I notice a piece of paper tucked into the door. Entering the office, I set my stuff down before opening the note. I read the contents, throwing the note from me as if it was on fire. It was a sexually threatening note. I ran into the “kitchen” and stood in the dark sobbing uncontrollably. This was too much. This was just too much. I cried out to God. Suddenly, I felt a tender hand on my shoulder and turned around to look. The room was empty. No audible words were spoken, but a peace descended on the room as I stood there in the dark, crying. In my spirit, encouragement was infused within me: to not give up because things were going to be okay. I had just experienced a Holy Encounter, a ministering angel sent by God to encourage me. A month later, I was out of the “Crypt”. I took a shaky, smoldering reed step of faith and moved into a rented house—above ground, with big windows, a huge tub/shower, washer/dryer, yard, garage, bed, stove, and very few spiders.  I had lived in the “Crypt” for over a year and a half. What have I learned? Lessons from “The Crypt”: 1. When they turn your heat off in the middle of winter, no amount of blankets will keep you warm. 2. You have to watch the cat you love die when it gets sick because vets won’t let you make payments. 3. People give throwaway food (dented cans prone to food poisoning and outdated food) to food pantries, then pat themselves on the back for “giving.” Jesus is not pleased. 4. You can use baking soda when you run out of toothpaste. 5. Samples at the grocery store can stave off hunger. 6. When down to only a can of pumpkin in the pantry, make soup. 7. You can take a shower using the kitchen hand sprayer and standing in a small tub. 8. Low light plants survive in the “Crypt.” 9. There’s a difference between a need and a want. Things I Have a New Appreciation For: 1. I am thankful for toilet paper, tampons, and food. 2. I am thankful for windows filled with sky. 3. I am thankful for a stove and oven. 4. I am thankful for a washer and dryer in my house. 5. I am thankful for a yard with grass that I can squish between my toes. 6. I am thankful for my shower! 7. I am thankful for my nice big bathtub…and bubble bath. 8. I am thankful for food and shelter. 9. I am thankful for warmth in my home. 10. I am thankful for those who understood and refused to be a “Job’s Friend”. Spiritual Lessons from “The Crypt”: 1. God is God and I’m not. He can do what He wants and in what way He wants. 2. He loves me, even when it appears that He doesn’t. 3. Sometimes God allows a trial in someone’s life to test those around the person. 4. Sometimes God allows a trial in someone’s life to show the glory of God. 5. We have a spiritual enemy who works against us. 6. Suffering doesn’t necessarily equal “You’ve sinned.” 7. I don’t always understand and that’s okay because He knows what He’s doing. 8. People don’t always understand what I’m going through, just as I don’t always understand what they’re going through. I must forgive. 9. Get beyond a Keyhole Perspective. Just because a person’s poor, doesn’t mean they’re lazy or uneducated. 10. Success in God’s Economy is different than the World’s View. One Last Little Story: As of writing, I am still building my business and times can be lean. Since my “Crypt” experience, I still fight fear in regards to finances--afraid I’ll lose this house I’m renting. One day while battling this fear, I said to God, “Lord, maybe I shouldn’t ask this, but I just need some reassurance today. Do you love me? I’m struggling still financially. But if You love me, I can hang on.” I looked into the cupboard and saw that the coffee was almost gone and no money to buy more. “If You love me, please have someone bring me coffee…whole beans.” A couple days later, a screenwriter friend came over for our writing session. He walked through the door and set a bag down on the counter. “Here,” he said, “I brought something for you.” He opened the bag and lifted out the contents. It was a bag of coffee…whole beans…premium whole beans. Not outdated. Not dented. I cried. If you walk into my office now, you’ll see a curious thing taped to the wall by my computer: a baggie with three whole coffee beans in it. When I get scared, those three little beans remind me that God does loves me--loves me enough to respond in spite of my fragile faith. He is the Caretaker of the Bruised Reed and Smoldering Wick. A broken, contrite heart; a fragile faith; an honest expression; a desire to truly know Him--Heaven strains to hear. Be Pliable Art in the Hands of Love. Don’t give up. This is only earth. Chris Jackman, writer, “createer”, and founder of Hemline Creative Group (a creative house). View the story online at: http://www.storiesaboutgod.org/index.php/stories/story_page/lessons-from-the-crypt/

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