Have you ever been stuck in a pit so deep that you didn’t think you’d ever get out?
I was stuck in a hole for 15 years. My hole was the shape of doubt. I didn’t believe the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection. I was afraid that the whole Bible was a sham. But I was too ashamed to cry out for help. The walls were too steep for me to climb out on my own. And if there was a God, well, He didn’t seem to care. I was so terribly angry at an invisible diety who was supposedly all-knowing, yet didn’t bother dropping me a rope.
I thought I might die there, in the dark.
God never did send a rope. But He sent a friend. He sent someone who knew the terrain of the hole I was in. And that friendship built a ladder so I could climb out.