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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.

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