Where Else…?
By Anthony Casperson
1-25-25

A year ago today was the last day that I worked at a paying job. The medical procedure that I had the next day—which I thought would help with my arm/shoulder pain—ended up leaving me with terrible dizzy spells and a painful numbness in the back of my head. Both of which meant I couldn’t drive. (While much of those detrimental side effects have lessened, I’m still dealing with some, like the whole not being able to drive thing.)

Over the next handful of months, I struggled through waiting for some doctor—any doctor—to figure out what was going on. I got fired from my job because of being on leave for so long. And while my savings lasted much longer than I thought they would, I’ve been reliant upon the goodwill and financial help of friends and family for a while now.

In October, I finally had the neck surgery that seems to have been what I’ve needed for a very long time, because much of the original problem has been helped. Although, along with the good came some bad. Limitation in neck mobility was to be expected. But the shoulder pain from muscle atrophy and a rough surgery have been the worst part of this set of side effects.

Without some sort of support from the back of a chair—which requires a very high back—my shoulders begin to scream out in pain after a couple of hours. I can’t even write a sermon in one sitting because of the pain. And even these blogs push the limit of my tolerance. So, the idea of finding a job that fits in with my current limitations is pretty much out of the question.

At the end of 2024, a doctor told me that I’d need more physical therapy to build up the muscles in my shoulders. I had to darkly laugh at that because insurance complications—which are too convoluted to get into here—were going to leave me without insurance for the start of 2025. Problems which I’m still waiting to find a resolution to.

Those details don’t even get into the depression and anxiety I’ve been feeling all along. Feelings of frustration and anger. Impatience which wonders if I’ll ever be able to live something close to a “normal” lifeagain. And an overwhelming sense of weakness that mourns the loss of my physical might.

As you read these things, some might be moved to compassion. I’m thankful for it, and would still appreciate prayers. Others might scoff, thinking that I’m just complaining. I’m thankful such people have at least read this far, and ask that you trust that I have a greater reason to list this all out. A number of others might reach a hand in camaraderie and say, “I feel your pain.” I’m thankful for your continued faith through your own trials and struggles.

But there might be some who look at what I’ve written above, or people like me who try to persevere in faith, and ask, “How can you continue on believing in Jesus through all of that?”

Trust me, as I reach this unwanted anniversary, I’ve been thinking a lot about the answer to that question. And there are two passages that have come to mind because of it.

The first of those passages won’t surprise most people who know my deep appreciation of the book of Job. It’s the title character’s reaction, found in Job 1:20-22, after he lost his wealth, livelihood, and children all in the same day.

Announcement of all of that disaster hit him, and Job mourned the loss. He tore his robe, shaved his head, and fell to the ground. But his purpose of falling to his knees was to worship Yahweh. In verse 21, we see him basically say that he came into this world with nothing, he can’t take anything with him in death, and everything in between is only because of the blessing of Yahweh. So, whether the Lord gives or takes away, Job’s place is to bless the Lord in return.

Whatever happens in this life, for good or for bad, worship of Yahweh is the right response.

The second of those passages comes from John 6. Specifically verses 68-69. But since the exact context of those words doesn’t fit perfectly with my point, I’ll need to explain the points of contact with the larger passage in order to delve into the connection.

Earlier in the chapter, Jesus had performed the feeding of the five thousand—the only event, other than the crucifixion and resurrection, that is in all four gospels. Jesus and his disciples had taken separate means to travel across the Sea of Galilee. And the people who’d been fed eventually tracked down Jesus. Some, because they wondered if another free meal might be given.

Seeing the crowd chase after their physical needs, Jesus intended to redirect their focus onto their spiritual needs. And so, he gives his “I am the Bread of Life” sermon. He speaks of himself as manna from heaven. Life-giving sustenance for the spirit.

But some of the people still took his words to mean food for their physical bodies, so Jesus pushed back on this thought, proclaiming to them that whoever eats of this bread—believes in this work of God through him—will have eternal life. And eventually, Jesus flat out says that unless they eat his flesh and drink his blood, they can’t have eternal life.

Now, because these people were still taking his words in a physical sense, instead of the spiritual, those words disgusted them. They’d never drink blood, especially human blood. And eating human flesh out of the question.

(I promise I didn’t mean to talk about cannibalism in two blogs in a row. It just happened.)

Vast swaths of the crowd, who had cheered his name yesterday, left him today. They had thought he could meet every physical need—and a few wants too—but now they wanted to retch up what food had been in their stomachs. The life he offered was not one they’d been willing to take.

Jesus wasn’t surprised at their reaction. After all, only those whom the Father had prepared to be ready to see the spiritual aspect of Jesus’ words would be able to accept the truth he offered.

But after this, Jesus turned to his closest twelve disciples. He asked them, “Do you wish to leave as well?” And in verse 68-69, we see Peter show amazing faith, without immediately putting his foot in his mouth afterwards. Peter speaks for (most of) the rest of the Twelve as he says, “Where else can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Basically, “The things you’ve just said—about eating flesh and drinking blood—we don’t really get it. Honestly, we’re confused about it. But we do know one thing that you said in the middle of all that. Life comes from you. Physical and spiritual. Eternal life. If we want life, the type that God gives, then we have nowhere else to go for it.”

Yes, the temptation to give up and leave is high. Confusion and frustration abound. But there’s nowhere else to go. No place else to be given the sustenance of godly life. Nowhere else to receive blessing.

We might not understand the difficulties in front of us, but there is only one place to find true life.

To anyone who looked at the snapshot of my past year—which is nothing in comparison to the difficulties that a person can suffer—and asked how a person could ever continue to believe in Jesus after that, I hope these two passages help explain why. And if such trials leave you running in the opposite direction, I’m not surprised. Not all who hear words of life are ready to accept them.

The reason why I wrote about my unwanted anniversary is so that, through it, God could encourage those of us who kneel with our worlds broken down around us. Lift the face of those of us with questions in our hearts. Call us to stay the course. To join Job in saying, “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” And to join Peter and ten of the other eleven disciples in admitting that, although we don’t understand everything, we do know that life comes from Jesus. So where else could we go?

Worship of Yahweh is the right response because there’s nowhere else to receive life.

It’s not easy to be in that pain and suffering and doubt and confusion. As a matter of fact, cursing God and running away are the easier options in the short term. But we won’t find the blessing of life anywhere else. So, we kneel amidst the pain. Stay, despite the confusion. And bless the name of the Lord who is the Bread of Life.

Blessed be the name of the Lord. Where else could we go?