As I prayed for each of them, it dawned on me — I was once more able to share my story with someone and bring insight and hope to their circumstances. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of thankfulness in my heart. Once again, I found meaning and purpose for the trial I faced years ago.

If we were to be truthful about our prayer lives, I believe most of us would agree that it is mostly centered on our needs, or the needs of those we love. As people of faith, it is only natural that we cry out to God for help in times of trouble. We should do so, indeed. However, when the answer doesn’t come, or when tragedy seems to become the ultimate answer, we find ourselves questioning the truthfulness about God’s unfailing goodness, mercy and love.

In the midst of our storm, as our prayers go unanswered and troubles weigh us down, God’s voice seems to be silent. His love, cold. We shake our heads in disbelief, as we watch the innocent die, or disease take over faithful, godly people.

“Why, God? Why?” we ask.

I’m here to offer a different perspective today. What if we changed the grid by which we sift our lives? What if we were able to distance ourselves from the small sphere of our current reality, and were able to sift our circumstance through the grid of eternity and God’s plan for the people we encounter throughout life’s journey? What if our temporary affliction is indeed producing for us an eternal fruit that far outweighs our troubles today?

What if you could look into your future and realize that, just as it happened to me this week, you will one day be able to strengthen, uplift, equip and encourage someone, just because they will face what you are facing today? In other words, what if your trial is absolutely, undoubtedly, not about you?

It’s a true and proven fact that the best mentors are those who have journeyed through the roads less traveled. People of effective influence are those who face tough challenges and burdens, pressing on through their hardest circumstances, limping through each obstacle in order to cross the finish line. This realization doesn’t change the nature and hardship of our problems, but it can certainly bring perspective and change how we pray. Because if we say that we truly trust God and want him to use us to further his kingdom, then it would do us good to accept the burdens he places in our hands, understanding that they are but tools used to sharpen us and make us the person he chose to fulfill a specific role in his master plan.

Whether our sphere of influence will be limited to the people that live under our roof, or our voices are destined to be heard in the four corners of the world, there is a purpose for each dark valley we cross. As one standing on the other side of many trials, witnessing the countless times I’ve been able to reach out and touch someone’s life because of the lessons learned in each valley, I realize: It was never about me, anyway.

Patricia Holbrook is a Christian author and national conference speaker. Her book, “Twelve Inches: Bridging the Gap Between What You Know About God and How You Feel,” is available on Kindle, at Barnes and Nobles, Amazon and other retailers. Visit her website at www.soaringwithhim.com Email: pholbrook@soaringwithHim.com

The post What if the Trial You Face Isn’t About You? {Atlanta Journal Constitution Column} appeared first on Soaring With Him Ministries.

“My first desire is that my physicians alone must carry my coffin.” After a pause, he continued, “Secondly, I desire that when my coffin is being carried to the grave, the path leading to the graveyard be strewn with gold, silver and precious stones that I have collected in my treasury.” After resting for a few minutes, he continued: “My third and last wish is that both my hands be kept dangling out of my coffin.”

Alexander the Great had three dying wishes. At the age of 32, this man had conquered the world and had unimaginable prestige and wealth as the most powerful emperor of the ancient world. Yet, when he died, his wishes reflected the realization of a life filled with victories and empty in eternal significance: Doctors could not save him; his riches could only follow him as far as his grave; and lastly, he was leaving this world the same way he entered it: empty-handed.

Alexander is not alone in the long list of sanguine leaders, who conquered kingdoms and enforced their reign through war or manipulation throughout the centuries. From Ramesses II to Julius Caesar, from Cleopatra to Adolf Hitler, these men and women marked history and made their names immortal by defeating their enemies, subjecting nations to their reign, accumulating great wealth and living as if they would never die.

It seems as if Alexander’s dying remarks are the typical realization of most people on their death bed. One never hears of a dying man or woman wishing that they had accumulated more wealth… or found more prestige. You won’t hear a dying person wishing they had added another degree to their resume or that they had lived in a bigger house. Their regrets have nothing to do with their possessions. Dying regrets have to do with the things neglected while pursuing the biggest and greatest.

I have to wonder how different the world would be if we would live as if we were dying tomorrow. What if you had but a day on planet earth? Would you say goodbye to your child the same way you do every morning? Would you pray more? Love more? Forgive more? Would the economy still be an issue — or what is happening in the Middle East? Would you worry about what people think about you as much?

I didn’t think so.

These are the things in my heart as the sun shines on my keyboard as I type these words today: I am grateful for another day to live and for the people surrounding my life. No, my house is not perfect, and I am also often guilty of spending more time “conquering” than playing with my children. But I choose to live with the realization that life is but a vapor and each day is a gift from God. I want to learn to pause more often to look at the stars that He made, realizing that if He directs their orbit in perfect harmony, He is also directing my life. I want to hug more and fuss less. I want to learn to be content with fewer material things and seek to fill my cup with those things that rust and moth won’t destroy, nor thieves will ever steal.

Alexander’s hands and heart were empty as his casket descended to his resting place. May we learn to fill our hearts with eternal possessions — that our legacy may live on to the next generation, not as people whose feats are to be praised, but man and women whose faith in God and love and devotion to those around them cannot be forgotten.

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