When trials come, choose joy.

That is easy to put on a picture.

It is harder to live when the trial is your life.

James 1:2-4 says:

“Consider it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

That verse does not say trials are easy.

It does not say pain is fake.

It does not say betrayal does not hurt.

It does not say prison does not break parts of you.

It does not say losing your family, your business, your reputation, your peace, your mind, your name, your money, and your place in the world is something you just smile through like nothing happened.

It says consider it joy because the testing of your faith produces endurance.

That is different.

That is deeper.

That means God can take what tried to destroy you and use it to build something in you that comfort never could.

I am learning that right now.

Not from a pulpit.

Not from a polished stage.

Not from a perfect life.

I am learning it from the wreckage.

I am learning it from the parts of my life I do not know how to fix yet.

I am learning it from the shame I still carry.

I am learning it from the guilt of what I lost.

I am learning it from the empty places where my old life used to be.

I am learning it while trying to forgive people who hurt me.

I am learning it while trying to forgive myself for the ways I hurt people too.

That is the part people do not always want to talk about.

Everybody wants redemption until redemption requires honesty.

Everybody wants healing until healing requires confession.

Everybody wants a comeback story until they realize a real comeback starts with sitting alone with the truth.

I have had to sit with mine.

I have had to look at my life and admit that I am not only a man who was wronged.

I am also a man who has been angry.

A man who has made mistakes.

A man who has sinned.

A man who has said things he wishes he could take back.

A man who has hurt people he loves.

A man who has carried pain so long that sometimes it came out sideways.

That is not an excuse.

That is a confession.

There is a difference.

I can tell the truth about what was done to me by a weaponized government and still tell the truth about the work God has to do in me.

Both are true.

I was put through things no man should be put through as a pretrial detainee.

I was held in conditions that damaged me.

I was isolated.

I was denied things I should have had.

I was forced to fight from inside a cell.

I had to write grievances, study law, document abuse, and build a record while the system tried to crush me.

A judge said on the record that my due process rights were violated.

That is true.

But it is also true that I do not want to come out of that fire and become a bitter, hollow, angry man who only knows how to bleed on people.

That cannot be the end of my story.

That cannot be what my children inherit from me.

That cannot be what God brought me through all of this for.

So now I am in a different kind of fight.

Not just against the government.

Not just against the people who lied.

Not just against the people who abused power.

Not just against the systems that need to be exposed.

I am fighting to become whole.

I am fighting to become sober-minded.

I am fighting to become steady.

I am fighting to become a better father.

I am fighting to become a man who can tell the truth without being consumed by rage.

I am fighting to become someone who can hold people accountable and still keep his soul.

That is endurance.

That is not weakness.

That is not softness.

That is not pretending everything is fine.

Endurance is standing in the storm and refusing to let the storm decide who you become.

Endurance is waking up when you are tired of waking up.

Endurance is telling the truth when silence would be easier.

Endurance is repenting without quitting.

Endurance is rebuilding when the old life is gone.

Endurance is choosing to believe God is not finished with you, even when you are not proud of every chapter behind you.

The world teaches men to hide.

Hide the pain.

Hide the shame.

Hide the fear.

Hide the guilt.

Hide the tears.

Hide the damage.

Hide the broken places.

But God does not heal what we keep lying about.

I am done pretending I am not carrying wounds.

I am done pretending the last few years did not change me.

I am done pretending strength means never needing help.

Real strength is facing the truth and still walking forward.

Real strength is saying, “God, I do not know how to fix all of this, but I am still here.”

Real strength is saying, “I have been wronged, but I still need to be made right.”

Real strength is saying, “I have sinned, but I am not beyond redemption.”

Real strength is saying, “I was broken, but I am not finished.”

That is where I am.

I am rebuilding in public.

I am healing in public.

I am learning to forgive in public.

I am learning to forgive myself in public.

That is uncomfortable.

That is embarrassing sometimes.

That is painful.

But it is honest.

And I would rather be honest and healing than polished and dying inside.

James 1:4 says “And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

That means you do not quit halfway through the work.

You do not run from the process because it hurts.

You do not demand the crown while refusing the cross.

You do not ask God to make you complete while protecting the parts of you that still need to be corrected.

You let Him work.

You let Him burn away what needs to go.

You let Him strengthen what is weak.

You let Him expose what is hidden.

You let Him rebuild what was destroyed.

You let endurance finish its work.

So when trials come, choose joy.

Not because the trial feels good.

Not because what happened was right.

Not because evil gets excused.

Not because accountability no longer matters.

Choose joy because God can still use it.

Choose joy because the fire can refine you.

Choose joy because pain does not get the final word.

Choose joy because the enemy may have meant it for evil, but God is still able to mean it for good.

Choose joy because the story is not over.

Choose joy because endurance is being built.

Choose joy because the man who survives the trial can become stronger, cleaner, wiser, humbler, and more complete than the man who entered it.

I am not there yet.

But I am still walking.

And as long as I am still walking, God is still working.

James 1:2-4

When trials come, choose joy. The testing of your faith builds endurance. And when endurance finishes its work, you become mature, complete, and lacking in nothing.

-Ryan Nichols 5/24/26 2:34PM