From Breakdown to Breakthrough
"Where no oxen are, the crib is clean; but much increase comes by the strength of an ox" (Proverbs 14:4, NKJV).
This verse has become one of my favorites because it destroys one of the most damaging myths in Christianity: the idea that if God's Kingdom is truly present in our lives, everything should run smoothly. We've been sold this fantasy of trouble-free existence where all cylinders are firing, the machinery is humming, and Shalom means nothing ever goes wrong.
But here's the truth: if you're going to be fruitful, if you're going to fulfill God's purpose, there's going to be a lot of mess. You can have a perfectly clean barn, but you won't have any harvest. Or you can have oxen—with all the mess that comes with them—and actually produce something meaningful.
The Myth of Trouble-Free Christianity
We've created this impossible standard in the church where any problems indicate something's wrong spiritually. If your marriage struggles, you must not be applying biblical principles correctly. If your finances are tight, perhaps you're not tithing faithfully. If your children rebel, clearly you've failed in Christian parenting.
This mythology does enormous damage because it forces people to live lies. They put on their happy faces, shine their shoes, sing all the happy songs, and pretend everything's perfectly together while their homes are falling apart. They're convinced that God's Kingdom is only present when life is perfect.
But I believe exactly the opposite. The message of God's Kingdom that we preach—about unity, mutual submission, and transformative love—is actually most present and applicable right where life is at its worst.
When Legalistic Systems Collapse
Here's what I've learned through painful experience: legalism will work for a while. The pretense of religion will work for a while. But eventually, it begins to collapse. And when it does, we often feel like our whole world is coming apart.
But sometimes our world has to come apart in order to be reconstituted according to God's will and the purpose for which we were created.
I lived this reality in my first marriage. I stayed in an unhealthy relationship for many years, sustained by legalistic duty rather than love. I tried to produce righteousness, peace, and joy in my own flesh, through obedience to rules rather than relationship with God. The marriage was held together by what was required, not by what was life-giving.
That system eventually collapsed. It had to. And in the rubble of that breakdown, I discovered something beautiful: God was present even in the mess. Emmanuel—God with us—was right there in the chaos, not waiting for me to clean everything up before showing up.
God Meets Us in Our Hell
If you're walking through hell right now, I want you to tell you something crucial: God is with you in the middle of your hell. He's not withdrawn from you because things are messed up. He's not waiting for you to get your act together, clean up all your problems, and climb out of the valley before he'll meet you on the other side.
God is perfect, but he's not a perfectionist. He doesn't withdraw his presence because your life isn't Instagram-worthy. In fact, incarnational theology emphasizes that God came near—he took on flesh, entered our mess, and condemned sin right where we live.
The keys to death, hell, and the grave are found in the depths of hell. You don't get them until you go there. And though you may be walking through hell, in the middle of your hell, you're going to find the keys. You're going to discover the authority you need to bring you out of whatever dilemma you're facing.
The Difference Between Breakdown and Breakthrough
Not every crisis is a sign of spiritual failure. Sometimes the problems in our lives are actually the outworking of God's Kingdom restructuring and reconstituting things that have worked because we've made them work, but haven't really been built around Kingdom principles.
Think about it: when Jesus entered the temple and overturned the tables, that looked like chaos. When he challenged the religious leaders and disrupted their systems, that created enormous mess. When he told people to leave everything and follow him, that shattered families and communities.
The Kingdom of God isn't always tidy. It's transformative. And transformation is messy.
I've seen this pattern repeatedly in counseling others. Someone's marriage begins falling apart, and they panic, thinking they must be doing something wrong spiritually. But often what's happening is that a relationship built on wrong foundations is finally being exposed so it can be rebuilt on solid ground.
A woman finally finds the courage to leave an abusive situation, and everyone around her talks about the "destruction" of her family. But sometimes destruction of what's broken is necessary for construction of what's healthy.
The Reconstruction Process
When systems built on legalism, control, or fear begin to collapse, it can feel like death. But Jesus taught us something profound about death: "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain" (John 12:24, NKJV).
What feels like ending is often beginning.
The reconstruction process isn't quick or clean. Just as renovating a house creates dust, noise, and temporary chaos before revealing the beautiful finished product, God's work in our lives often involves tearing down before building up.
During my own reconstruction years, I learned to distinguish between the pain of destruction and the pain of growth. Destruction pain comes from holding onto what's already dead. Growth pain comes from stretching into what God is birthing in us.
The story isn't over when everything falls apart. This is one chapter in the story. We might be at episode four of an eight-episode season, with a lot of life still to live.
Why We Need the Mess
Here's the paradox: we want the harvest, but we don't want the mess that comes with productivity. We want the strength of the ox, but we want the clean crib too. We want transformation, but we don't want the chaos that transformation requires.
But mess serves important purposes:
Mess exposes what's real. When life gets hard, pretense falls away. You discover what your relationships are really built on, what your faith actually rests on, where your security truly lies.
Mess creates dependence on God. When you can't fix everything yourself, you're forced to discover God's sufficiency in ways comfortable seasons never teach.
Mess develops character. James wasn't being cruel when he said to "count it all joy when you fall into various trials" (James 1:2, NKJV). He understood that pressure produces something valuable that comfort never can.
Mess creates compassion. People who've been through hell develop empathy for others walking similar paths. Your mess becomes your ministry.
Practical Wisdom for the Mess
If you're in the middle of chaos right now, here's some practical guidance:
Don't cooperate with shame. You can take responsibility for your part in any situation without living in shame and blame. There's a big difference between owning your choices and drowning in condemnation.
Resist the urge to force quick fixes. God is often working on a deeper level than we can see. What looks like delay might be divine timing allowing all the pieces to come together properly.
Seek wise counsel. You need someone who can help you discern between destruction that's making way for something better and destruction that genuinely needs to be stopped.
Remember the long view. This season won't last forever. God is making all things beautiful in their time, even if you can't see the beauty yet.
Trust the process. Farmers don't panic when they see dirt and manure in their fields. They know these things are ingredients in the process that produces harvest.
The Beautiful Aftermath
What I can tell you from the other side of my own reconstruction is this: God does make all things work together for good, even your mess. He can create a masterpiece even from what feels like total destruction.
My current life with Gregory is evidence of this. Our marriage doesn't avoid all conflict or challenges, but it's built on solid Kingdom foundations of mutual honor and authentic love. We're happy even in the midst of difficulties because we've learned that Shalom isn't the absence of problems—it's the presence of God in the middle of whatever we're facing.
Don't despise the mess. Don't waste energy trying to keep your crib spotlessly clean. Embrace the oxen. Welcome the productivity. Trust that God is working even when—especially when—life feels chaotic.
The Kingdom of God isn't pristine. It's powerful. And that power often works through what looks like mess to produce what's genuinely beautiful.
Keep walking through. You're going to emerge on the other side, and God is going to make all things beautiful in their time.
Blessings,
Susan 😊