Good News at Rock Bottom

I never imagined I would find myself at rock bottom—a lowly, contrite, broken man with seemingly nothing left to lose. Well… almost nothing. I still have my health, and my old CR-V is somehow still hanging on. Lately, I’ve found myself praying often for both, asking God to protect me and keep that old Honda running a little longer.

Over the past year, I’ve lost nearly everything: my job, my family, my finances, and much of my identity—or at least the identity I once found in being a husband, father, and working professional. The only identity I truly have left is my identity in Christ, and even that looks far different than it did a year ago.

Before rock bottom, I had become complacent. I called it “checking the boxes.”

Good job? Check.
Lovely family? Check.
Active in church ministry? Check.
Hobbies? Check.
Quality time with my family? Check.

In the spring of 2025, I remember leaning back and thinking to myself, I’m satisfied. I had decent money, hobbies I enjoyed, most of the material possessions I wanted, and time to enjoy the life I believed I had built for myself.

And that was the problem.

I believed I had built it.

Not God.

I had quietly taken credit for my comfortable life. Meanwhile, beneath the surface, things were not nearly as healthy as they appeared. Looking back now from rock bottom, I can clearly see that my marriage was suffering. I was too attached to material things. I wasn’t paying close enough attention to the needs of my boys. Even much of my church ministry had become more about enjoyment than bringing glory to God.

So what brought me here?

An unimaginable chain of events that produced the deepest trauma I have ever experienced.

For the first time in my 20-plus-year career, I was downsized from the company I had faithfully served since 2021. Around the same time, I was sued by a neighbor—for the second time. Then we discovered my wife had a brain tumor that had enlarged and required surgery.

Shortly afterward, I was falsely accused of domestic violence, removed from my home and family, and placed in jail. I was lied to, lied about, slandered, and publicly humiliated. My reputation and career were damaged, and I had to step away from the Trail Life ministry I deeply cared about. Family members became involved. Sides were chosen. Gossip spread. Relationships fractured. Some abandoned me altogether.

Now I find myself in the middle of a legal separation—and possibly divorce. As I write this, I have not seen my children in ten months, with no clear end in sight.

Financially, I’ve struggled greatly, living off my 401(k) while desperately searching for work. And honestly, I could tell a hundred more stories about the ways it has felt like Satan has relentlessly attacked me and my family.

Take a moment and absorb all of that.

It sounds more like a tragic daytime television story than real life, doesn’t it?

Naturally, the questions came flooding in:

Why, God?
What did I do to deserve this?
Am I being punished?
Will things ever get better?
Is more suffering still coming?

Those questions—and every imaginable emotion—have swirled endlessly in my mind. I’ve experienced grief, fear, panic, and emotional pain deeper than I ever knew was possible. My heart has felt ripped apart. There have been moments where I realized there was absolutely nothing I could do to fix my circumstances.

The Serenity Prayer became a close companion.

Some people who know my story compare it to Job. Personally, I think it resembles Joseph more closely—but I’ll explain that in another post.

To be clear, I have not handled everything perfectly. I’ve made mistakes. But it has still been difficult to understand why so much suffering arrived all at once during this season of life. As a sinner, I know I deserve nothing apart from God’s mercy, yet I still found myself asking why He would allow all of this to happen.

Needless to say, I’ve spent a great deal of time on my knees.

I have never prayed this much in my life.
Never read my Bible this much.
Never sought so much counseling.
Never listened to so many sermons and podcasts.
Never consumed so many books centered on faith, suffering, and perseverance.
God brought me to rock bottom—a place I never imagined I would go.

And there, something remarkable happened.

Repentance began to take root in me. God exposed sins and weaknesses I had ignored for years. I asked Him repeatedly to search my heart, reveal my wickedness, and refine me—and He answered that prayer thoroughly.

Like many men, I struggle with sins common to this stage of life. Thankfully, I can say I do not live with secret addictions or hidden double lives. Some might believe I’ve struggled with porn, abuse, bad language or other dark secrets, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Over the last twenty years, I’ve had accountability partners who can attest to all of these things. Instead, my deepest struggles have been complacency, anger, pride, and materialism.

The strange beauty of rock bottom is that it leaves you flat on your back, staring upward toward heaven, pleading for mercy.

And that’s exactly where I found Jesus.

During this season, I came across a book titled Good News at Rock Bottom by Ray Ortlund, based largely on Isaiah 57:15:

“For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.’”

Jesus met me at rock bottom.

In my confusion, grief, regret, and tears, He met me there. Though He dwells in the high and holy place, He also draws near to the brokenhearted. He met me in my lowest moments and revived my weary spirit through the Holy Spirit.

That verse became deeply personal to me. God showed me where He could be found. I could not ascend into heaven to meet Him in His glory, but I could meet Him in my brokenness. And there, in that low place, He welcomed me.

Psalm 34:18 says:

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”

Jesus understands what it means to be crushed in spirit. There is no counselor greater than Him, no source of peace more complete during chaos and suffering.

Slowly, He began teaching me surrender.

He showed me that my life was never truly under my control to begin with. I had to hand Him the reins completely—my pain, my panic, my anger, my bitterness, my fear. He began teaching me forgiveness instead of resentment, trust instead of control.

It has truly been a journey, and it is far from over.

Some days, God has taught me to live just one day at a time. Other days, one hour at a time. His Word has calmed panic attacks and brought supernatural peace in moments of despair. He has reminded me of promises I first learned as a child and shown me that His grace has followed me all my life—even when I was too distracted to notice it.

I hit rock bottom about ten months ago, and while I still have difficult days, I am no longer where I once was.

God continues to lift me up through prayer, Scripture, and the sustaining power of His promises. I’m learning daily what it means to take up my cross and follow Him. I’m learning to pray without ceasing, to forgive, to crucify my flesh, and to stop condemning myself. I’m learning that life is not ultimately about me, it’s about glorifying God and serving others.

I still have a long way to go, but one verse that has anchored me throughout this refining process is 1 Peter 5:10:

“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

If I had to describe where I am today, I would say I’m perhaps a third of the way through this process of restoration.

God has faithfully met my needs. He provided employment when I desperately needed it. My neighbor dropped the lawsuit. My legal case concluded with lesser charges. He has strengthened old relationships and brought new friendships into my life. Faithful believers have surrounded me in prayer, encouraged me, and welcomed me into Bible studies and small groups.

Through this brokenness, God has cultivated a deeper and more fearless faith within me. Through prayer, Scripture, counseling, and suffering, He has granted me greater humility, wisdom, conviction, and understanding—along with countless undeserved blessings and unmistakable moments of grace.

I am still in the middle of many battles.

I still fight for truth.
I still fight for my marriage.
I still fight for my children.

At times, things look incredibly bleak. But I have been reminded over and over again that if the Father could raise Jesus Christ from the dead, then surely He can resurrect what has been broken in my life as well.

Even when others abandoned me—or assumed, like Job’s friends, that I must have deserved all of this—God never left me.

Through all of this, Proverbs 3:5–6 has become more real than ever:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

Whenever I lean on my own understanding, anxiety and despair quickly follow. But when I cry out to Him, He faithfully gives me enough light for the next step.

Philippians 4:6–7 has also carried me through countless moments of fear:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

I learned through Chip Ingram and his ACTS model of prayer how powerful thanksgiving can be in moments of anxiety. In my darkest moments, I discovered that gratitude could interrupt panic. Somehow, through prayer and surrender, God would replace fear with peace so quickly that it felt undeniably supernatural.

So that’s where I am today.

Learning.
Growing.
Persevering.
Enduring.

Still learning hope.
Still learning forgiveness.
Still fighting bitterness, anger, complacency, and materialism.

But slowly—and only by the grace of God—I’m climbing out of rock bottom.