A Bruised Reed He Will Not Break

Recently, I heard a teaching by a guest pastor at my local church. He preached on the end of 2 Corinthians 11 and the first part of 2 Corinthians 12, where Paul talks about his hardships and boasting in his weaknesses.

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, harships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

As an exercise, the guest speaker then began to boast about his weaknesses. About a decade’s worth. The message resonated with me deeply. It made me take inventory of the last 10 years of my life. We often boast about the things we’re doing well, or point people to how “awesome” we are. But Paul offers a different example. There’s something both profound and empowering about boasting in our weaknesses. Another good friend of mine used to say, “If you want to see the power of God, get weak.” So, let me get weak for a few minutes here…

Keep in mind, many of these events in my life were overlapping or occurring simultaneously. Any one of them, just on their own, was a lot to bear.

Richard Sibbes was a Puritan pastor from the late 1500s to the early 1600s. He was known as “The Heavenly Doctor Sibbes.” Not just because he had a Doctorate of Divinity, but because of the manner of his preaching. He had a gentleness to him. He had a way of preaching and caring for his people that was marked with mercy and tenderness.

In 1630, he published a book called “The Bruised Reed.” It’s a short, 128-page book that is essentially an exposition of Isaiah 42:1-3. Yes, he wrote a 128-page book on just 3 verses. And it’s absolute riches. Here are the verses (bear with me):

Behold my servant, who I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.

Isaiah was talking about Jesus here. Verse 3, “A brusied reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench” is the crux of the entire book. What does it mean?

We are all like “bruised reeds”, or “faintly burning wicks.” Some translations refer to the wick as “smoking flax.” A reed is basically a piece of grass. When you walk through a field of grass and brush against the reeds, they often bend or become “brusied.” As humans, we are like bruised reeds in this world.

Bruised from what? Life.

A faintly smoking wick is like a candle that doesn’t even have a flame, but just has the ever so slightest ember burning. Both the bruised reed and the smoking wick are as close to being broken and quenched as they can possibly be without being completely destroyed. Even when we’re bruised or have only an ember left in us, Jesus is gentle with us. He doesn’t break us or snuff us out. The world might render us useless when we’re at the end of ourselves, but not Jesus. He treats us tenderly and nurses us back to life.

Let me now boast in my weaknesses. Let me boast about the things that “bruised me” or nearly “snuffed me out.”

Church-Planting

In October of 2016, my wife and 2 children moved from our home in Illinois to Gainesville, FL, to help start a church. We came to this city with about 50 other people from the Midwest. The goal was to reach the people of Gainesville and to provide a safe place where they could hear about Jesus and live out their faith. We began in a hotel conference room, where we would meet each Sunday morning.

Anyone who has done church-planting knows that it’s a lot of work. It’s kind of like trying to do life while you’re camping. You’re starting a new job, and you’re in a place where you don’t know anyone or your way around the city. You usually have to set up and tear down every Sunday morning, unless you’re fortunate enough to start in a permanent brick-and-mortar location. Everything is a bit “transient” in those beginning years. And on top of all of that, you’re trying to meet new people in the community and invite them.

It’s a beautiful and edifying work, but certainly hard work. Literal blood, sweat, and tears. We met in a movie theater in year 2. You were greeted with the smell of popcorn and could hear The Avengers playing during the teaching in the adjacent theater. It was a fun adventure! By year 3, we were able to move into a permanent home.

COVID happened in year 4, and it caused quite a bit of turnover by the end of it. I won’t beat the dead horse of COVID, though. We all know what it was like, and I think the whole idea of it is a bit fatiguing to talk about at this point. Needless to say, it presented a lot of challenges to a young church that was just getting off the ground.

My Father’s Failing Health

In 2018, just 2 years before COVID, my father passed away back in Illinois. My dad was an incredible man. He didn’t become a follower of Jesus until late in life, only a few years before his death, actually. But even before he was a Christian, he was just a good man. We were close and very similar. We had the same sense of humor, an interest in college basketball, loved the same music, and even worked a job together for quite a few years. I wasn’t able to be there at his bedside when he died. I was only able to get there by the next day. But I feel that he left while we were in a very good place in our relationship. I didn’t feel any regrets about him. He knew I loved him. I knew he loved me. And we both knew that we’d be spending eternity together someday.

It was a tough season, and I made the mistake of only taking a week off from work. I had learned how to repress things, put my chin down, and just keep plowing ahead–almost like I never skipped a beat. It works for a while. And one day, it just comes to a screeching halt, all at once. It comes to collect. You can only evade the payment for so long.

More Deaths

A good friend of mine from my church back in Illinois died young, leaving behind a wife and 3 kids. I believe that was around 2019, but the years often blur together at this point. He loved Jesus dearly, and I know he’s with Him in Glory. My heart ached over his death and for his young family’s loss. In 2020, my grandmother passed, and a year later, my Grandfather died. They were my last remaining grandparents. You kind of just move on when people pass, but without really ever moving on. You learn to bind up your wounds and live life under the new circumstances. It’s like losing an arm and learning how to do life with just one. You’re never the same after a death. You move on. But you’re never the same.

Stressful Job

In the midst of COVID, the job I was working got very stressful. I had worked my way up to the Leadership Team and was working 60-70 hours per week on a salary. When you’re in any kind of leadership, you’re usually spending the majority of your time just putting out fires instead of doing anything productive or needle-pushing. We dealt with lawsuits, difficult customers, dishonest employees, striving to hit revenue goals–you name it.

A Failing Marriage

Toward the end of my tenure with the company, my marriage began to get rocky. I allowed my job to take so much out of me that it was affecting things at home. There’s more to it than that, but that was my part in the marriage. A distance was slowly growing between us, and it was difficult for me to see it until the distance had already gone too far. I won’t go into the details, but we spent 3 more years going through an intense trial without healing or some sort of resolution.

Another Family Member Got Cancer

In the midst of a struggling marriage, my mother-in-law, back in Illinois, was diagnosed with cancer and required chemotherapy. She was also a caretaker for her elderly mother, so she needed a ton of help while she went through 4 months of treatment. Because I owned a small business by this point, where I’m able to work remotely, I stayed with her in Illinois for a month to go with her to her treatments and also care for her mother. It was a challenging time because my wife and I were separated for almost that entire year. Thankfully, my mother-in-law went into remission and has been cancer-free since. Nonetheless, the event felt like another storm within a storm.

Financial stress

Like many of the events I’ve mentioned, most of them were overlapping. Financial stress began that same year when my wife and I were separated. I was paying the bills, but the margin was razor-thin. I had also invested some money in cryptocurrency, that sky-rocketed up to $340,000, before rapidly crashing down to nearly $0 almost overnight. Costs continued to go up during and after COVID, and as we all know, have been going up ever since. Even to this day, I still deal with financial challenges.

Church Controversy

As a backdrop to everything else, our church network began to go through some controversy and scrutiny. I don’t have to go into the details here, but essentially, we went through an intense trial as a group of churches for about 2 years, until many of the churches disbanded from the group and became completely independent (ours included). Some of them even shut the doors completely. I want to get into the semantics of everything, but just know that it was complicated and difficult for hundreds of different reasons.

Brain Tumor

In 2024, I found out that I had a brain tumor. While the family and I were driving out to the springs on a Saturday, a man rear-ended us on the highway, going at a pretty good clip. None of us was seriously injured aside from a few bruises. I got checked out at the hospital just to be safe. When they called me back to go over my CT scan, they informed me that I looked good regarding the accident, but that they found an abnormality in my brain. They referred me to UF Health to get an MRI. After meeting with the neurosurgeon, she informed me that I had a benign congenital brain tumor. Formally, this type of tumor is known as an Intracranial Epidermoid Cyst. One percent of all brain tumors. It’s usually in the Cerebellopontine Angle (CPA) region of the brain. The tumor often sits on the surfaces between the cerebellum, the pons, and the brain stem. It also sticks to the surfaces of your cranial nerves.

The surgery was successful, but the recovery was painful. Moreover, I felt like I didn’t have a ton of support from some friends and even some family during that time. I spent the majority of that journey walking through the valley alone.

Divorce

In the sort of “final phase” here, or the proverbial “nail in the coffin,” was divorce. That process began in the middle of 2025 and continued on to this year. A 19-year marriage and a 20-year relationship came to an end. It’s not something I wanted and is likely something that I will mourn over for a very long time. I also transitioned out of the church that I helped plant. It was on good terms with the church, but it was necessary so that I could rebuild my life separately from my now ex-wife.

I could fill up an entire book with all of the details and ripple effects that come from divorce.

Starting Over – Rebuilding My Life

I’m in the next season. Not a different phase, a completely new season of life. I’ve been growing closer to my new church family and learning how to be a single father. Life is completely different now. Many of the relationships I had essentially had to come to an end through osmosis, and I’ve been building new friendships. If you had told me 10 years ago that I’d be sitting where I am today, typing this, I wouldn’t have believed you. I never envisioned my life to be where it is. How can a person (and why would they want to) envision such things?

I’ve struggled with a desire for God and hadn’t felt near to him until more recently. He’s been reviving me again, as he always, faithfully does. I’ve been weak. I’ve been stripped down bare. But God has met me at the bottom, in the depths. He didn’t let the flame go out completely. In no way am I out of the woods; we’re never truly out of the wilderness in this life. The entire Earth itself is the wilderness. But there is hope again. I’m reminded of Lamentations 3: 21-23:

But this I call to mind, and therefore have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

There’s also encouragement from Habakkuk:

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in God of my salvation. GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.

Even if everything is stripped away, as believers, we can rejoice in the LORD.