Paula White-Cain - Something Greater: Finding Triumph Over Trials

A s a five-year-old on a hillside just beyond my backyard, I hold a music box, knowing it is the last birthday gift my father will ever give me. Staring up at the sky I feel a longing as I watch the ballerina inside the box twirl to the delicate notes of Fr Elise, gently played on a glockenspiel.

Questions about my fathers death five days ago torment me.

Daddy, didnt you love me?

Did I do something wrong?

Why did you leave me?

In the middle of this humid Memphis morning in 1971, a new reality begins to seep inside me, one that goes far deeper than the kind of rejection a school-age child might have known. It is worse than being denied or disliked; I feel abandoned. A cycle is begun where time after time the actions of those I love the most will seem to tell me the same thing: Somethings fundamentally flawed with you. Therefore, Im going to leave you.

Another occurrence this day will have a rippling impact. God starts to tug at me, even though in this moment I dont yet know His name or who He is.

Standing on that hill, surrounded by an open field that swallows my tiny frame, I talk to the heavens, believing in my heart that somebody hears me.

Thirty-three years later, I have spent my entire adulthood proclaiming Gods message of salvation. The world knows my name, which I share with a thriving ministry that impacts millions worldwide. People know my fiery sermons, my smile, my shoes, and my success. Yet they dont know the deep pain and confusion I am experiencing when my life starts reeling out of control and falling apart in 2004. Im lying on the floor of my home office, staring at the familiar sunrise with heaving, desperate cries, wondering if my marriage, my family, and my ministry have all been an illusion. A dreadful question fills my soul: If those things arent real, then what else is not real?

This office holds many precious memories of spending hours in the presence of the Lordpraying, and fasting, and studying the Word. Still, surrounded by all the books that have given me some knowledge, Im lost for words and see no way out. Kneeling on the rug, I face the wall of windows and catch the morning light. In its warmth I feel the Holy Spirit beckoning. This voice is crystal clearnot audible, but undeniableand I experience it in the way Ive been wooed, romanced, and corrected by God in the past. Its a knowing. Since being saved, Id always had clarity when God spoke to me, but in the desperate days leading up to this morning Id been struggling, feeling as if someone was scrambling those frequencies. But now the voice is strong and direct, asking me to say the things Im grateful for. Theres not much inside of me that feels grateful at this time, yet that I am so certain of this command is reassuring.

In the background I hear my children laughing, and suddenly I know. Of course, Im grateful for each and every one of them. As soon as I acknowledge this, God whispers to me: Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.

What else are you thankful for? the Holy Spirit asks me. A warm glow bursts over the bay, as Ive seen it do hundreds of times before, but this time I feel renewed appreciation for witnessing its beauty. I feel thankful for the suns rising.

Another scripture is whispered gently: Blessed are your eyes, for they see: and your ears, for they hear.

God has given me another new day, another opportunity to begin again, and another chance to fight for myself. All I need to do is get up off the floor and believe that this season is going to change. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but in time there will be something greater in my life.

One of the positive things about loss is it forces us to look elsewhere, even if we dont realize it at the time. God watches and waits for us to follow Him.

Many people know the story from my childhoodlittle Paula talking to the sky after the death of her father. Very few know the truth about Pastor Paula White-Cain pleading with God as her marriage and her life in general unraveled. It was by no means just my marriageit was me. Its a story Ive carried with me for the past dozen yearsa story I havent wanted to tell. Ive never wanted to hurt anybody, nor have I ever desired to relive those moments. Even just a couple of years ago, I still hadnt landed on how exactly I felt about it. I now know where I stand, and I see the purpose in sharing this story. I believe it can help others. I know I have something to say that can inspire someone and help them find their true placetheir