THE TRUTH WE DON’T WANT TO HEAR
Welcome to the LivWell Family podcast.
A place where we talk honestly about life, faith, hope, resilience and what it really means to keep moving forward when life doesn’t go according to plan.
I’m Liz Wells.
And through LivWell Family and Life 2.0, I want us to have the conversations that sometimes aren’t easy.
The conversations that challenge us.
The conversations that make us stop and think.
And today, I want to talk about truth.
Because sometimes the truth is exactly what we don’t want to hear.
[PAUSE]
We often say that we want to know the truth.
We get irritated when people don’t tell us the truth.
When they’re dishonest with us.
When they lie to us.
But growing up, I was taught that little lies were okay.
They were allowable.
Acceptable.
If it protected someone, or enabled us to benefit in some way, then it was okay.
And if it didn’t hurt anyone, then what was the harm?
But we now seem to be living in a world where we get to decide what truth is.
“My truth.”
We are the decision-makers.
The rule-makers.
The gods of our own lives and our own destiny.
But are we really clever enough?
Wise enough?
Strong enough?
To make those kinds of decisions?
Because every statement has consequences.
Every decision has consequences.
Every decision carries responsibility.
And every decision puts us on a road to travel.
[PAUSE]
When I became seriously ill and I was told that I would most likely die, I lived through a million different emotions.
And one of them was:
Why me?
I questioned everything.
I had grown up with faith.
With ideals.
With religion.
I had heard stories of other people being healed instantly.
And part of me knew that if the God of the universe wanted to heal me, He could.
He could reverse my diagnosis in an instant.
But that answer to prayer never came.
Instead, I endured such pain.
Physically.
Mentally.
It was torturous at times.
The whispers in the night.
The thoughts that I wasn’t good enough.
That I wasn’t worth saving.
I wasn’t the best of people.
But surely I didn’t deserve this?
[PAUSE]
I didn’t understand.
Because I could only see what was happening from my perspective.
Through my limited understanding.
My limited knowledge.
I thought I understood a lot.
I was well educated.
But the reality was that I had only ever uncovered the tiniest amount of truth and understanding.
When we look at the stars...
The galaxies...
We get just a little insight into how tiny we are.
The magnitude of life expands far beyond anything we can ever think or imagine.
And yet we still judge everything through our own limited understanding.
Our own limited view of the world.
And this is what happened to Job.
Job didn’t know what was happening beyond what he could see.
He didn’t know about the conversations that had taken place.
He didn’t know about the battle happening in a realm beyond his sight.
He could only see his suffering.
His loss.
His pain.
And when God finally answers Job, He doesn’t give him a neat explanation for everything that has happened.
Instead, He reminds Job just how little he can see.
God asks him:
“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?
Tell me, if you understand.”
Job 38.
And God continues by asking Job about the foundations of the earth, the boundaries of the seas, the morning, the stars and the vastness of creation.
In other words:
Job, you can see this moment.
I can see eternity.
[PAUSE]
And I didn’t begin to understand that until I stood looking into eternity.
Until I was staring into the vastness of death.
Because suddenly my situation felt so tiny.
So insignificant.
And as I looked into eternity, rather than feeling as though I was leaving reality and entering into the next life, I experienced this crushing illumination:
I was already standing within eternity.
Eternity wasn’t simply somewhere I was going.
It encompassed everything.
This life.
And the next.
It was this life, these structures, this reality that I was living in now that were temporary.
I was suspended between one reality and the next in intensive care.
But it wasn’t just my life that suddenly seemed temporary.
The hospital I was in.
The country.
Governments.
The structures we put so much faith in.
Everything.
All of it was being held within something infinitely greater.
Eternity.
Everything here felt temporary.
Slowly crumbling.
Being allowed grace for a little while longer.
And what was eternal was what all of us were already being held within.
[PAUSE]
The reality of eternity.
Our physical bodies die.
But death is not the end.
We transition from this temporary structure into eternity.
And the most important decision we will ever make is where we will spend it.
And we don’t get to decide when that moment comes.
When I got to what felt like the doors of eternity, it was too late to start thinking about that decision.
But I knew.
And in that moment, I had complete peace.
Because although I was far from perfect, I knew I had been given the antidote to death.
I had willingly received the gift that Jesus died to give me.
His blood.
[PAUSE]
And there are no easy fixes.
No inventing our own truth.
No deciding that our own path must be right simply because we want it to be.
No creating our own interpretation simply because it makes us feel better.
As I stared into eternity, and then had the opportunity afterwards to process what had happened to me, I began to see something differently.
Everything had been directing me towards Him.
Towards the answer.
I had asked God to heal me.
And He had.
But not in the way I expected.
Rather than instantly healing me, God took me on a journey that opened my eyes.
Not simply to healing for now.
But to eternity.
And Jesus warned us that the road wouldn't always be the one everybody else was taking.
He said:
“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction...
But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
Matthew 7.
[PAUSE]
The way is narrow.
And few find it.
That is serious.
This is real.
We don’t get to understand everything.
But we do get to trust.
We get to accept.
We get to receive a gift.
And that is why I can’t continue to tell people that it doesn’t matter.
That if something makes us feel better, then it must be okay.
Because Scripture is clear.
There is one way to eternal life.
We cannot earn it.
We can only receive it by grace.
We exchange our broken, limited, misinformed life for the life that Jesus offers us.
And that eternal life can begin in a moment.
Jesus said:
“My Father’s house has many rooms...
I am going there to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me.”
John 14.
[PAUSE]
He has gone to prepare a place for us.
A room.
A home.
Our home is in heaven.
We might have to live in this rickety old house for a little while longer.
We will still have battles here.
Life will still hurt.
There will still be things we don't understand.
But this isn't our final home.
[PAUSE]
All I can tell you is that even when my body was at the very edge of life, I experienced a peace beyond my understanding.
Do I have all the answers?
No.
That is where faith comes in.
But I know that I have a Father who created this universe.
And I believe He loves me enough to stop and give me the undivided attention I needed.
When I called out and asked Him for a miracle...
He answered.
It just wasn’t the miracle I thought I was asking for.
[PAUSE]
And this is where I have to be honest with you.
When the doctors spoke to me, they were straight with me.
They told me that without accepting an organ transplant, I would die.
They didn't soften it because they were worried I wouldn't like what they had to say.
They didn't tell me what would make me feel comfortable.
They told me the truth.
Because my life depended on it.
And in the same way, I am here to tell you what I believe to be true:
We need Jesus.
We need the blood that He shed for us.
Religion has sometimes complicated that message.
It can leave us believing that if we complete enough rituals...
Pray enough...
Or are good enough...
Then somehow we can earn our way into heaven.
But Christianity doesn't teach that we earn salvation.
It teaches grace.
A gift.
And I would rather someone tell me a difficult truth that leads me to life than a comfortable lie that leaves me heading towards death.
[PAUSE]
I could have rejected what those doctors told me.
Or worse...
Imagine if they had told me that I probably had a chance without the transplant.
Perhaps I wouldn't have worried so much.
Perhaps I would have liked their answer more.
But I am so glad they had the courage to tell me the truth.
However frightening it was.
Why?
Because without that truth, I would have died.
I wouldn't be here now.
[PAUSE]
And I believe my life was spared for a reason.
Part of that reason is having the courage...
However difficult.
However unpopular.
To speak honestly about what I experienced.
Because every one of us will eventually face death.
And every one of us has to confront the question of eternity.
Jesus has already made the way.
The blood has already been shed.
The invitation has already been given.
And He has gone to prepare a place for you.
The question is whether we will receive the gift.
Whether we will take the narrow road.
Whether we will choose life.
[PAUSE]
If something I've talked about today has stirred something in you, don't just scroll on to the next thing.
Sit with it.
Ask the questions.
Talk to God.
You don't need polished words.
You don't need to have everything sorted out.
Just start with honesty.
Because sometimes living well isn't about having all the answers.
Sometimes it's about having the courage to ask the questions that really matter.
This is LivWell Family.
And Life 2.0 is about recognising that whatever has happened before, your story isn't finished.
There is hope.
There is purpose.
And there is still life ahead of you.
Until next time...
Keep choosing hope.
Keep choosing truth.
And keep choosing to LivWell.
