I’ll never forget the sound. One moment, life felt ordinary—the next, a massive oak tree came crashing down on our house, splintering wood and shattering normalcy in an instant. As if that weren’t enough, in the same season our ministry, something Marsha and I had poured more than two decades of our lives into, also came crumbling down.
It felt like everything we had built, both physically and spiritually, was collapsing at once. Looking back, it wasn’t just about a fallen tree or a fractured ministry. It was about God pulling us into a deeper story, one that would test our faith, strip away false securities, and teach us what resilience in Christ really means.
I began looking for answers, but what I found instead was something much more weighty: a shift in perception.
A Word That Changed Everything
It might sound straightforward, however, one word was an anchor for me in the midst of all the upheaval: PERSPECTIVE.
We are unable to stop the storms that erupt in our world. However, we have the option of choosing the way we look at the circumstances and what meaning we assign to certain events. I could choose to see just the rubble, or I could decide to view it as the beginning of renewal. The choices we make don’t necessarily eliminate the hurt, but instead have the power to redefined it.
What Is the PERSPECTIVE Framework?
The word PERSPECTIVE transformed into more than an idea. It was an actual map. Each letter represents a crucial concept that helped me go from despair to strength. I’m not going to go over every aspect here, but I will mention a few that helped me when I was feeling the weakest.
P – Pause
It was the first stage and the most difficult for me. I’m naturally a doer and find comfort with movement and problem-solving. After my storm, I could not repair what had gone wrong overnight, and I was forced to pause and be patient. In that pause, I learned that God’s presence is typically the loudest when everything else is still. The pause wasn’t just about resting; it was about re-alignment. It allowed me to grieve, listen and breathe.
E – Embrace Joy
I didn’t go looking for joy in the middle of all that darkness. Honestly, I didn’t expect to find any. But it surprised me in the laughter of my kids when everything else felt heavy, in the kindness of people who showed up to help, and in worship moments when my heart cracked open just enough for light to get in. Joy doesn’t mean pretending the pain isn’t there. It’s learning to hold both together. Sometimes pain shouts so loud it feels like it drowns out everything else—but joy has this quiet way of whispering, “hope is still here.”
R – Reframe the Pain
This was my lifeline. Reframing doesn’t deny what happened. It doesn’t diminish the loss. Instead, it asks: What might this mean? What could God be doing in this? When I redefined my grief, I realized that the storm was not just destruction. It was a call to action. A call to build differently, to rely more upon God, and to view resilience as not just bouncing back, but rather as a journey forward with a new perspective.
Why Perspective Matters?
At the core, faith isn’t about ignoring reality but about learning to see it from a different angle. Faith means trusting God. Everyone else might look at the same situation and call it hopeless, but faith dares to look again, through the lens of God’s promises.
When we lost our house and with it, the picture I had painted of our future, despair felt like the only option. And to be honest, sometimes I chose it. But I also discovered something else: I could decide to believe that God was still working, even when I couldn’t trace His hand. In fact, I’m grateful to say that even in the middle of a destroyed home and a crumbling ministry, I never blamed God or questioned His character. People failed us—yes—but others stepped in and carried us when we needed it most.
Maybe you’ve had your own season of upheaval—an illness, a relationship that broke apart, a dream that fell through. If that’s you, let me share what I learned…
You don’t get to control everything that happens to you, but you do get to choose how you see it. That doesn’t mean pretending the pain isn’t real. It doesn’t mean rushing through grief. It means slowing down enough to notice God’s presence in the middle of it. It means letting joy sneak in, even in small doses. It means reframing the story of your pain as part of a bigger picture you can’t see yet.
Final Thought
Now, looking back, I realize that what seemed like the end was actually a new beginning. The rubble didn’t simply disappear; it was the raw material needed to create a new life. My faith is different now. It’s deeper, more tranquil and less focused on easy answers, and more about believing in God in the unknowable. It’s the gift of perspective.
I’d like to invite you to delve deeper into the PERSPECTIVE framework I outline in my book Resilient Hearts: Shaping Perspective, Embracing the Reframe. These principles helped me through a very difficult time of my life. I am convinced that they can help you as well.