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Brokenness

Jul 15
Love0

The Weight You Were Never Meant to Carry

By Anxiety, Brokenness, Comfort, Faith, God, Grief, Hope, Trials, Worry No Comments

Anxiety has become so commonplace that many people accept it as a normal part of life. We make jokes about being chronic worriers, but fear quietly steals our joy, clouds our judgment, and distracts us from the goodness of God. Like a cancer that contaminates our spiritual blessings, hidden anguish is not a minor problem to ignore.

Every generation finds new reasons to fret. Parents fear for their children. Students stress over grades. Workers wonder whether they will keep their jobs. Retirees question whether their savings will last. Even good news often gives way to fresh concerns. Mark Twain reportedly remarked that he had lived through many terrible experiences, most of which never happened. His observation exposes the deceptive nature of anxiety. Our minds often create disasters long before reality ever arrives (Prov. 12:25).

Jesus addressed our common struggle in the Sermon on the Mount. He cautioned us against obsessing over food, clothing, tomorrow’s uncertainties, and even the length of our lives (Matt. 6:25-34). Worry never solves a problem. Anxiety will not add one hour to our lives, remove any of our future hardships, or strengthen us for whatever today’s responsibilities might be. Instead, fear shifts our focus away from the Father’s providential care and concern.

Combatting our internal dismay begins with an honest confession. The Apostle Paul commanded believers to “be anxious for nothing” (Phil. 4:6a). Though we may understand the temptation to worry, we dare not justify it as anything other unbelief. Faith insists that God reigns over every circumstance, no matter how frightening or painful. Despite our rebellious instinct to live as if reality depends upon us, we do well to admit that our prideful delusion only leads to uncertainty and panic. A sincere acknowledgement of our weakness invites God’s strength into our struggle (Psa. 55:22).

The circumstances behind Paul’s words mark his command as even more compelling. Roman authorities held him in prison while he wrote the book of Philippians. False teachers troubled the churches he dearly loved, and execution remained a looming possibility. Even so, the faithful apostle refused to surrender his heart to fear because he trusted the character of God more than the uncertainty of his future (Phil. 1:20-21).

Calling out to God functions as the next step toward lasting peace. Through the means of prayer and supplication, we are to let our requests be made known to God (Phil. 4:6b). God never asks us to ignore our fears. He welcomes every burden, every question, and every concern we bring before Him. Our Savior even admonished His followers to ask, seek, and knock because our heavenly Father delights in giving good gifts to His children (Matt. 7:7-11).

Thanksgiving also transforms the way we talk to God. Gratitude reminds us of the Lord’s past faithfulness while giving us renewed strength to face whatever is ahead (Lam. 3:22-23).  Likewise, prayerful worship deepens our resolve to embrace God’s direction and will before we know the outcome of our petitions. Making specific requests sharpens our dependence upon our heavenly Father because his specific answers serve as practical expressions which reinforce the realness of our faith. All the while, our confidence grows even as our anxiety subsides.

Regardless of what the outcomes might be, God breathes life into our prayers, making them the means of supernatural peace which guards our hearts and minds (Phil. 4:7). Though this holy serenity does not always remove our painful circumstances, the Lord strengthens His people in the middle of every trial (John 14:27).

Because he also understood the powerful connection between our thoughts and our emotions, Paul instructs us to dwell on whatever is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise (Phil. 4:8). Healthy thinking cultivates strategic prayer, resulting in confident living. Fear grows wherever lies dominate our minds, but joy flourishes wherever God’s truth takes root (Rom. 12:2).

Seem too good to be true? Just look around. Birds never store food in barns, yet our heavenly Father feeds them every day. Wildflowers never toil or spin, yet God dresses the fields with their breathtaking colors every spring (Matt. 6:26-30). Each sunrise silently proclaims the Father’s loving care. Every blooming flower reminds us that our Creator never overlooks our needs. Human beings bear God’s image, making us infinitely more valuable than any bird or flower (Gen. 1:26-28).

Every morning presents us with the same choice. We can rehearse our fears or remember God’s steadfastness. We can carry burdens that belong to the Lord or place them into His capable hands. Worry has never changed tomorrow, but trusting God changes us today (Isa. 26:3).

Adam B. Dooley
July 15, 2026

May 06
Love0

It Was Never About Us

By Brokenness, Faith, Hope, Hope When Life Unravels, Peace, Trials No Comments

There is an appointed time for everything . . .

A time to weep and a time to laugh . . .

A Time to mourn and a time to dance . . . (Ecc. 3:1, 4)

More than a decade after our family’s fight against childhood cancer, we are in the midst of a joyful season of celebration and gratitude. Watching my son beat leukemia was one of God’s greatest gifts in my life. To see him graduating from high school and thriving as a young man is a profound blessing that has me carrying around a box of Kleenex.

A few years back, I wrote a book called Hope When Life Unravels (still available wherever books are sold) in order to capture many of the lessons God taught us during those more difficult years. This week, two particular reminders from the past weigh heavily on my mind as we rest in the beauty of the present.

Fatherhood Matters

Why did God make me sick, Daddy? The question took my breath away. His big blue eyes peered over his medical mask as the plane engine hummed beneath us. My son was searching for answers, trying to make sense of the God who loved him and the trial that shattered his childhood innocence. That was just one of many moments when my son looked to me for reassurance and stability.

Children need an active, spiritual father to guide them through life. Motherhood is equally important, to be sure, but fathers play a unique role in the spiritual development and nurture of their kids. Because God expects husbands and fathers to lead their families, refusing to do so creates a damaging vacuum in the home. Teaching my children to love and trust God at all times was, and is, my responsibility. I must connect with them. They need my example. I should encourage them while also holding them accountable. I cannot delegate this sacred duty (Deut. 6:5-7).

Though I would like to tell you this always came naturally for me, I cannot. Despite believing that my son should be a better kid because of his dad, in reality, I am a much better father because of him. Battling leukemia left no room for my laziness, and I’m grateful. The testing of our faith produced an endurance that still strengthens us today (James 1:3).

Life Is Not About Me—or Even the People I Love

 The most surprising realization that came during my son’s ordeal was that, despite God’s willingness to mold and teach our family through it all, the trial was not primarily about the Dooley family. Over the course of three years, I continually reminded my son that God had a plan for his sickness even if we didn’t know what it was and even if it did not relate directly to us. With childlike faith, he accepted my assurance as true. Amazingly, I do not remember one instance when he complained about his illness. Instinctively, he seemed to know that more was at stake than the outcome of his suffering.

The same is true for you.

How can I be so sure? The story of Job is often a source of strength for those facing hardship, but tucked behind the drama of the opening chapters is a powerful truth to help us face tragedy with a different perspective. After Satan mocked the notion that people worship God for who He is rather than what He does for them, the Lord presented Job as a test case (Job 1:9-12). The real focus of the scene, however, is the glory of God rather than the faithfulness of His servant.

Despite our tendency to look insatiably for the cause and effect behind every burden we face, sometimes we are mere background characters in a much bigger story. Yes, we can learn important life lessons during seasons of pain, but even then, the promotion of divine glory is often the main agenda. Our stories are to be living testimonies of the beauty and worthiness of our great God.

If you find yourself in a season of hurting, I’d love to pray for you. Feel free to email me, and I will gladly lift your name and situation before the Lord.

Adam B. Dooley
May 6, 2026

May 03
Love0

Count Your Blessings

By Brokenness, Hope When Life Unravels, Peace, Sovereignty, Suffering, Trials No Comments

A few days from now my son will graduate from high school. His long, slender frame mirrors his mother. His jawline and gait mimic his grandfather. His confidence and ambition remind me of a younger version of myself. Yet behind the handsome eyes of a young man ready to take on the world, I still see the little boy that brought my theology to life more than any textbook ever could. Frankly, my greatest joy in this season is that my son is still here with us.

Over a decade ago, sitting in a tiny examining room with paneled walls, we heard our pediatrician say the one word no parent ever wants to hear. “I wish I had better news,” she began, “but I believe he has leukemia.” Leukemia? Not my son. Fear rushed in as tears fell from our cheeks. How can this be?

Now, with graduation just days away, the tears are still falling but for a different reason. After 128 weeks of chemotherapy all those years ago, my son remains cancer-free. During his high school days, I often found myself overwhelmed with gratitude while watching him play sports, laugh with his friends, or sing in church. God has been so good to us. My son is not just alive but excelling now that cancer is in our rearview mirror. Next fall he will be a freshman at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia.

Yet, even as we celebrate this milestone, I cannot help but remember many of the lessons we learned through the furnace of affliction. What were they?

First, it is okay to ask God why. Occasionally, well-meaning Christians or Bible teachers will either explicitly or implicitly caution that asking God why is out of bounds. Yet, the Bible nowhere teaches that it is sinful to ask God why. Job asked God why twenty different times. Moses asked God why He sent him to lead the nation of Israel (Ex 5:22), Joshua asked God why He was allowing Israel to be defeated (Joshua 7:7), and the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah asked God why He dealt so harshly with Israel (Is 63:17; Jer 14:19). Perhaps most stunning of all, however, is the remarkable lament of Jesus on the cross when He cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me (Matt 27:46)?”

In none of these instances will you find God irritated or angry because of the inquiry. Questioning His work in your life is permissible, even though demanding a response is not. Feel free to ask God why, just don’t chastise Him if you don’t like the answer.

Second, Jesus really is enough. The issue is not whether God is real, but whether He is enough during seasons of difficulty. For years, I preached and encouraged others who were hurting to trust God no matter the circumstances. Though I sincerely believed this, I lacked an experience that tested my conviction. That is no longer the case. My son’s cancer helped me to see that having God in your life is always better than any answers He might give to explain your plight. I found God to be faithful, not because I read it in a book, but because I lived it during our worst days (2 Cor. 1:3-4).

Third, faith does not give us the power to eliminate trials, but to endure them instead. It took great restraint to hold back my anger when a man prayed over my son in the airport one day. His treatment was nearly half over when this man stopped us and requested to intercede for him. No problem there. But when this stranger began rebuking the spirit of cancer in his body before boldly declaring that my son was healed and no longer needed chemotherapy, I almost hit him. The health and prosperity gospel has always been offensive to me, but more deeply so after battling this disease as a family.

I do not mean to say that God cannot or does not heal at times. However, the notion that all sickness can be removed by faith is patently false. Sometimes God develops us through trials rather than rescuing us from them. I have no doubt that my boy will be a better man because of what he faced. Others also benefitted from the pain he endured. Our family grew in the Lord, several friends trusted Christ as their Savior, and a number of St. Jude families dared to believe they could beat cancer too as they observed our milestones. Perseverance is something to celebrate, not avoid (James 1:2-4).

Adam B. Dooley
May 3, 2026

Mar 04
Love0

What Lies Beneath

By Brokenness, Forgiveness, Grace, Repentance No Comments

Murder is a jarring word. The very thought of it creates an anxious fear within all of us. Here in the United States, there are roughly 20,000 killings each year, or 56 each day, excluding abortion and suicide. Our cultural capacity to take human life unlawfully is staggering.

Yet, despite our tendency to speak of murder in reference to others only, Jesus pulls back the curtain on the internal attitude behind such an evil action. In order to correct the common misinterpretations of the scribes and Pharisees, our Savior insists that whoever holds anger in his heart toward a brother is already guilty of spiritual homicide in the eyes of God (Matt 5:21-22). Long before we slay another with our hands, we have already put them down in our hearts due to hidden hatred.

We should be quick to acknowledge that not all anger is evil. Sin, injustice, and abuse should enrage us. Jesus Himself turned over tables in the temple because of the transgressions He witnessed there (Matt. 21:12-13). Thus, the protective directive of Scripture is that we are to be angry and sin not (Eph. 4:26). The focus of the Sermon on the Mount is different, though. Here, Jesus emphasizes a deep bitterness and malice toward other people. Our Lord is warning us about the slow burn that fuels our refusal to speak to one another, our defense of holding grudges, and our justification for unforgiveness.

Because of the swift, often irreparable consequences of our internal hate, we should abandon our pride and seek reconciliation as quickly as possible (Matt. 5:23-26). Using a legal analogy, Jesus admonishes us to make friends quickly, before entering a courtroom and standing before a judge, effectively putting our fate in someone else’s hands (Matt. 5:25). Clearly, the implication is that Christians will one day stand before God in order to give an account for our lives (2 Cor. 5:10). Better to settle our differences now rather than forcing the Lord to confront our secret disdain of others.

Whenever we hurt others, we should acknowledge the offense and make restitution when possible (Matt. 5:23-24). If someone wrongs us, we should be quick to forgive even if consequences and boundaries must remain (Eph. 4:32). Doing so frees us from the root of bitterness (Heb. 12:15) that contradicts the grace of God in our lives (1 John 3:15).

Years ago, my paternal grandmother taught me these principles through the most powerful example of forgiveness I have ever seen. My Granny Sue was short in stature, but this little woman was a fighter all her life. She overcame breast cancer 50 years ago and ran her own business out of her home. Her greatest challenge by far, however, was the pain caused by her divorce. Due to my grandfather’s unfaithfulness, their marriage ended after 23 years. My grandmother never remarried, and though she moved on, the wound remained with her.

In 2005, decades after their separation, the cancer returned in her lungs. Soon, it became obvious that she would not overcome the disease a second time. Though I only saw her and my grandfather in the same room once growing up, I called to share the news with him and to make a bold request. I invited him to come to the hospital and ask for Granny Sue’s forgiveness.

Admittedly, it shocked me when he agreed to do so. Even more amazing, however, was how my grandmother responded. When I told her he was in the hallway, she sat up in her bed, began primping her hair, and then said with a smile, “If he is here to get me back, it’s too late for that!” I stepped out in the hall so they could visit, but unashamedly I eavesdropped every word. You could hear the pain in her voice as she asked, “Was I not a good wife? Why did you leave? How could you just walk away?”

My respect for my grandfather swelled as I heard him answer, “You did nothing wrong. I was the problem. Please forgive me.” Silence filled the room, only to be broken by the sweetest, most gracious words I have ever heard. My Granny Sue leaned forward, looking my grandfather in the eye, and said, “I forgive you. I’m glad you came.” Then, they talked, laughed, and healed. It was beautiful.

That day I learned that we are never more like Jesus than when we choose to forgive others for their transgressions against us. The deeper the wound we carry the more spectacular the grace we give. Oftentimes, giving forgiveness is just as liberating as receiving forgiveness.

So, stop making excuses. Make the phone call. Prioritize the visit. Admit your grievance. Let go of the pain. And if you receive one of those calls, choose to forgive. You won’t regret it.

Adam B. Dooley
March 4, 2026

Jan 14
Love0

How NOT to Respond When People Are Hurting

By Brokenness, Happiness, Repentance, Suffering, Trials No Comments

A family of four dies unexpectedly on the highway.

A routine visit to the doctor’s office reveals a terminal illness.

A late Friday afternoon meeting concludes with a single father losing his job.

A tornado rips through a small town leaving nothing but debris in its wake.

A vacation trip turns tragic with the disappearance of a young child.

Examples like these illustrate how vulnerable all of us are to the unexpected tragedies that can change our lives forever. Thankfully, the most severe hardships often bring out the very best in our neighbors who are eager to love, support, and encourage the downcast. Good friends are often God’s healing balm in our lives when everything else falls apart.

An ugly underbelly, however, also exists when adversity knocks on our door. Demeaning insecurities often plague us when trials invade our lives. We wonder if God still loves us. We worry that our pain is the direct result of our sin. We grieve what we perceive to be the absence of God in our lives.

Though these attitudes won’t cause us to stumble when we aren’t on the receiving end of calamity, there are other temptations when we witness others hurting. Most of us would never vocalize our darkest thoughts, but sometimes we sit in judgment over the misfortunes of others as if they are deserving of the difficulties we avoid. By inflating our sense of self-righteousness, we magnify the perceived inadequacies of those in the fires of misfortune. Driven by inward arrogance and outward apathy, our presumption reeks of sanctimonious foolishness.

Considering these dangers, allow me to offer a necessary biblical principle to remember when hardships arise. Namely, the presence of tragedy does not reveal the presence of sin.  In Luke 13 Jesus addresses a well-known atrocity that left the Galileans bewildered and confused. Apparently, Pilate killed a group of Jews who were making sacrifices in the temple because he suspected them of sedition. Unfortunately, the common belief then, and even today, was that victims of such calamities were guilty of extraordinary sins.

Though unspoken, this idea also suggests that those who emerge unscathed from close destruction must do so because of their unparalleled morality. Interestingly, however, is that Jesus refused to assign guilt to those who were killed even as He resisted the urge to assign innocence to those who were not. The positive or negative nature of a people’s circumstances is not an indicator of their need or lack thereof for repentance.

Jesus simply answers, “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish (Luke 13:3).” Then, to drive the point further, our Savior shares another example about the danger of presumptuous interpretation when trials come. When a tower in Siloam fell and killed eighteen people, Jesus again refused to make reckless judgments (Luke 13:4). Though our Savior does not deny that some events are acts of judgment or that sin often causes pain, He does insist that we should never feel safe or proud because bad things do not happen to us. Again, He simply retorts, “Unless you repent you will all likewise perish (Luke 13:5).”

My first reaction to any disaster should not be a moral evaluation of those who suffer and those who do not. Many wicked people live carefree lives, and many godly individuals face immense challenges. Could it be that God sometimes uses calamity to bring those of us who are spectators to repentance rather than to punish those who are immoral? Do bad things sometimes happen for reasons we do not understand? The painful realities of a fallen world should lead to our humble repentance rather than our boastful reassurances.

So how should we respond to blessings, trials, and hardships?

First, we should humble ourselves. Humble yourself before God and yield to His plan even when you are hurting. Humble yourself if you emerge unscathed after life’s storms. Humble yourself as you enjoy the blessings of safety and tranquility. Refuse to use God’s blessings as an occasion for boasting.

Second, we should pray for our neighbors when they hurt. Pray for wisdom about how you might encourage them. Pray that God will bring our community together when we face difficulties. Pray for a deeper, more sincere walk with God. Pray with thanksgiving for God’s mercy and protection each day of your life.

Third, we should love more. Love God more than you did before your life fell apart. Love your neighbors as yourself when they suffer. Love your community and friends as precious parts of your life. Love your enemies when tragedies strike by burying past grudges. Love your place of worship and the believers there.

Finally, we should thank God. Ask Him to make you more aware of the blessings you take for granted. Thank God for His protection and care over the course of your life. Thank God for His unconditional love. Thank God that our circumstances do not reflect our eternal value. Thank God for the strength to endure our worst days.

Adam B. Dooley
January 14, 2026

Jan 07
Love0

The Beauty of Brokenness

By Brokenness, Christian Living, Grief, Trials No Comments

It was not my best sermon.

After being away from my congregation for six weeks, the induction phase of my son’s chemotherapy ended, and we returned home from the Memphis Ronald McDonald House. Though he was now in remission, 128 consecutive weeks of treatment remained in order to prevent him from relapsing with leukemia. We were tired, emotionally spent, and fearful of what lay ahead of us.

With my pastoral duties resuming, I decided to preach through the Old Testament book of Job. What I did not anticipate, however, was the uncontrollable emotion I felt when I opened my Bible and began to speak. As an active participant in the story, the passage I read was neither theoretical nor flat. Each verse struck a different emotive cord as I shared about the inevitability of trials in a fallen world. And with every insight I explained, it seemed as though God was speaking directly to me through His Word.

That’s when the tears began to flow. At first, I was embarrassed. The vulnerability of the moment left me exposed like never before, and frankly, I did not like it. The more I tried to pull it together the less composure I seemed to have. Yet, as God carried me through the message, His strength was perfected through my weakness in an obvious way. I realized, perhaps for the first time, that God usually breaks us before He uses us.

Then, in a moment of spiritual clarity, I felt unexplainable joy. Joy because the Holy Spirit was so obviously present and active. Joy because others were benefitting from my hardship. Joy because of the manifest power of God’s Word. And joy because, unlike anything before or since, I needed the realities that I dared to proclaim. Don’t get me wrong, I never really doubted any of the doctrines in Scripture, but my son’s cancer forced me to lean on the Lord’s promises like I had not previously. When we move from merely explaining Scripture for the benefit of others to experiencing the same truth for ourselves, life change occurs.

Such is the beauty of brokenness.

Earthly pain is often God’s chosen method to help us live out the eternal truths we claim to believe (James 1:2-4). He sometimes uses unexpected affliction to add the depth of experience to the width of our knowledge (Psalm 147:3). Pastors in particular face the constant danger of being educated beyond their obedience level.

Without discipline, we will arrogantly project outward images of ourselves that contradict the inward realities of who we are. Even if unintentionally, we may prop up the professional holy man persona in an effort to meet the expectations of the people we serve. Hypocrisies like these will not only render us ineffective, but also jeopardize the health and vitality of our souls. Adversity usually represents a divine invitation toward greater authenticity. Tears, as unwelcome as they might be, are a powerful instrument to help us glory more in our Savior than ourselves (Psalm 6:8). The destination of obedience is often at the end of affliction’s road (Psalm 119:67).

So, I no longer run from the tears. And neither should you.

Today’s heartache may become a future pillow with which you can comfort others who are hurting (2 Cor. 1:3-4). In His goodness, God is thoroughly more strategic with our trials than we are, often allowing His children to share with others the strength and consolation they received directly from Him. One reason every believer needs to live in Christian community is the collaborative strength we find through the shared experiences of the body (Heb. 10:23-25).

God’s preachers are not immune from the burdens this requires or the blessings it produces. The Lord instructs us to love one another (Rom. 13:8), bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2), be kind to one another (Eph. 4:32), comfort one another (1 Thess. 4:18), pray for one another (James 5:16), teach and admonish one another (Col. 3:16), and serve one another (1 Peter 4:10).

Additionally, every trial is a potential platform for your declaring the gospel and demonstrating genuine faith (Phil. 1:12-14). Though it seems counterintuitive, our most powerful opportunities to be witnesses for Jesus will often come when our lives are falling apart. Because unbelievers frequently dismiss Christianity as unnecessary at best or a crutch at worst, observing faithful saints who suffer well is a powerful jolt of reality that opens wayward hearts to the claims of Christ. When non-Christians encounter the sustaining faith of a weary saint, the result is powerfully inspirational.

Better still is the hope that our troubles are often doorways that lead to deeper intimacy with Christ as our faith is proven and stretched (1 Peter 1:6-9). Perhaps one of the greater pitfalls of ministry is losing our passion for Christ in exchange for our pursuit of ministerial success and recognition. Hardships often serve as a needed wakeup call to remind us that the great reward of our faith is Christ Himself. As he recounted all that he lost to pursue Jesus, the Apostle Paul joyfully boasted that it was all . . .

  • . . . for the sake of Christ (Phil. 3:7).
  • . . . that he might gain Christ (Phil. 3:8).
  • . . . to be found Him (Phil. 3:9).
  • . . . that he might know Him (Phil. 3:10).

Apart from suffering, we simply cannot learn about God or relate to Him on an intimate level.  Believing God is real and present is one thing. Trusting that He is enough no matter what you face is another matter entirely. Though we are quite capable of cognitively grasping these ideas, we cannot embrace them fully until we experience their reality for ourselves. Trials force us to move beyond superficial knowledge about Jesus into a meaningful, daily walk with Him. Much to our chagrin, the power of Christ’s resurrection is always preceded by the fellowship in His sufferings (Phil. 3:10).

No matter how God chooses to enter your pain and regardless of how many tears you shed, remember that He promises to wipe each one of them away (Rev. 21:4) and collects them in a bottle (Psa. 56:8). Against the backdrop of eternity, all trials are temporary. Isaiah prophesied of a day when “they will not hurt or destroy in all My holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea (Isaiah 11:9).”

No wonder “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us (Rom. 8:18).”  The Lord has the final say about all our adversities. When we worship through our deepest valleys our present struggles wilt under the magnificent shadow of the future.

Behind every tear that falls and every heartache we carry, God is actively working all things together for good for those who know Him and love Him (Rom. 8:28). Even on our darkest days, we can trust that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Heb. 13:5-6). Though life is sometimes too short to heal all our hurts, the hindsight of eternity will make all things clear. Ironically, trials that make us doubt God’s purposes on this earth will lead us to praise His plans in heaven. Tears have a way of keeping our hope anchored to a world to which we’ve never been.

Maybe that sermon wasn’t so bad after all.

Adam B. Dooley
January 7, 2026

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