What I Thought Was WastedDet jeg troede var spildt

Since January I've shared some of the darkest seasons of my life here on Facebook. Times when everything was falling apart. When the darkness crept in.

Pain. Hopelessness. Worry. Illness. Fear. The feeling of being let down and thrown under the bus.

Back when I was standing in the middle of it, I couldn't see anything in it at all. No joy. No fruit. No life. It just felt like waste. Like death in the pot.

They were moments I wasn't proud of. Moments I would rather forget.

But something incredibly encouraging has happened.

The seasons I experienced as the worst imaginable are the ones that have now brought the most life to you who read along. They've released a budding hope, joy and freedom.

What I imagined would be the most useless and barren, God has turned into hope in the middle of your life. In the middle of discouragement. In the middle of it all.

I've read all your comments. Every message you've written to me personally. Thank you to the 100+ people who over the summer have come up to me across the Danish summer and met me with your encouragement. There have been many, and I'm deeply grateful for every single one.

Jesus says it in a way I recognize from my own life:

"Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces much fruit." (John 12:24)

That's exactly how it's gone.

All the times there was death in the pot. All the times worry and darkness left their heavy mark. Those are precisely the days that now bear fruit in others.

The seed that lies buried looks dead. But it isn't wasted. It's about to bear fruit.

I found myself thinking of Viktor Frankl.

He sat in a Nazi concentration camp. Hunger, cold, death everywhere. Everything was taken from him. And yet he discovered something no guard could touch: a freedom inside himself.

In the middle of the inhuman, he imagined that after the war he stood in a warm, well-lit lecture hall teaching his students about the very thing he was going through now. For a moment he stepped out of the camp and into a future where the pain had become something others could learn from.

Frankl put it like this: you can take everything from a person except one thing — the freedom to choose your attitude, no matter what you're standing in.

In a way he was more free than his captors. Because they were bound by their hatred. He was not bound by his darkness.

And that says something to you.

In the middle of your darkness. In the middle of your hopelessness. There, where you think nothing good could ever come of it, that it can't be used for anything at all — right there, God can meet you.

What looks like waste can be a seed laid in the ground. Not to die, but to bear fruit you can't yet see.

But before the fruit comes, the seed has to sprout and grow. Deep down in the soil, where no one can see it. Maybe it looks as though nothing is happening at all. Maybe it feels as though everything is just lying still.

But it isn't. It's sprouting. It's growing. The fruit is on its way.

Thank you to all of you who have written, commented and shared your own. What I thought would be useless, God has turned into joy and hope. Not just for me, but for you.

Is there a seed in your life you thought was dead?

What if it's actually sprouting, and in time will bear fruit?

What gets buried in the darkness is not always lost. Sometimes it just hasn't broken through yet.

Siden januar har jeg delt nogle af de mørkeste perioder i mit liv her på Facebook. Tider hvor alt var ved at falde fra hinanden. Hvor mørket sneg sig ind.

Smerte. Håbløshed. Bekymring. Sygdom. Frygt. Følelsen af at være blevet svigtet og smidt under bussen.

Dengang jeg stod midt i det, kunne jeg ikke se noget som helst i det. Ingen glæde. Ingen frugt. Intet liv. Det føltes bare som spild. Som død i gryden.

Det var øjeblikke, jeg ikke var stolt af. Øjeblikke, jeg helst ville glemme.

Men noget utroligt opmuntrende er sket.

De perioder, jeg oplevede som de værste tænkelige, det er dem, der nu har bragt mest liv til jer, der læser med. Forløst et spirende håb, glæde og frihed.

Det, jeg forestillede mig ville være det mest unyttige og ufrugtbare, det har Gud vendt rundt til håb midt i jeres liv. Midt i mismod. Midt i det hele.

Jeg har læst alle jeres kommentarer. Alle beskeder, I har skrevet personligt til mig. Tak til de 100+ mennesker, der i løbet af sommeren er kommet hen til mig i det danske sommerland og har mødt mig med jeres opmuntring. Der har været mange, og jeg er dybt taknemmelig for hver eneste.

Jesus siger det på en måde, jeg genkender fra mit eget liv:

„Hvis ikke et hvedekorn bliver lagt ned i jorden og dør, så bliver det aldrig til mere end det ene korn. Men hvis det dør, vil det bære megen frugt.” (Joh 12,24 — BPH)

Sådan er det gået.

Alle de gange, der var død i gryden. Alle de gange, hvor bekymringer og mørke satte deres tunge aftryk. Det er præcis de dage, der nu bærer frugt hos andre.

Kornet, der ligger begravet, ser dødt ud. Men det er ikke spildt. Det er ved at bære frugt.

Jeg kom til at tænke på Viktor Frankl.

Han sad i en nazistisk koncentrationslejr. Sult, kulde, død overalt. Alt blev taget fra ham. Og alligevel opdagede han noget, ingen vagt kunne røre: en frihed inde i ham selv.

Midt i det umenneskelige forestillede han sig, at han stod efter krigen i en varm, oplyst forelæsningssal og underviste sine studerende om netop det, han gik igennem nu. Han trådte for et øjeblik ud af lejren og ind i en fremtid, hvor smerten var blevet til noget, andre kunne lære af.

Frankl sagde det sådan, at man kan tage alt fra et menneske på nær én ting: friheden til at vælge sin holdning, uanset hvad man står i.

Han var på en måde mere fri end sine fangevogtere. For de var bundet af deres had. Han var ikke bundet af sit mørke.

Og det siger noget til dig.

Midt i dit mørke. Midt i din håbløshed. Dér hvor du tænker, at der aldrig kan komme noget godt ud af det, at det slet ikke kan bruges til noget, lige præcis dér kan Gud møde dig.

Det, der ligner spild, kan være et sædekorn, der er lagt i jorden. Ikke for at dø, men for at bære frugt, du endnu ikke kan se.

Men inden frugten kommer, skal kornet spire og gro. Dybt nede i jorden, hvor ingen kan se det. Måske ser det ud, som om der slet ikke sker noget. Måske føles det, som om alt bare ligger stille.

Men det gør det ikke. Det spirer. Det gror. Frugten er på vej.

Tak til alle jer, der har skrevet, kommenteret og delt jeres eget. Det, jeg troede ville være ubrugeligt, har Gud vendt til glæde og håb. Ikke bare for mig, men for jer.

Er der et sædekorn i dit liv, du troede var dødt?

Hvad nu, hvis det i virkeligheden er ved at spire og med tiden bære frugt?

Det, der bliver begravet i mørket, er ikke altid tabt. Nogle gange er det bare endnu ikke spiret frem.