First-person view from a skier descending a snowy slope at sunset. Skis point downhill toward a golden horizon, flanked by pine forests and spectators near red safety netting. The scene evokes motion, vulnerability, and hope.

The Tent, the Deposit, and the “Therefore”

Fragile Frames and Fierce Faith

Welcome back. Today, as we look at 2 Corinthians 5–7, I want to begin with a story.

I’ve always loved skiing. I grew up waterskiing, but at Western Wyoming College, I learned how to snow ski. My specialty was the Super G and the Giant Slalom—races that force you to live on the edge of catastrophe at every turn. You must read the hill, anticipate its rises and drops, and find the balance between speed and control. But within the snow lie imperfections—hidden bumps that can send you into a wreck you can’t recover from.

When you hit one, your mind races: Could I have avoided it? Can I survive what’s coming? Then you’re on the ground. You’re sore, maybe bruised, but grateful. You get up, find your other ski, and head down the mountain.

And then life goes on. You turn to see what your cat is doing behind you, and throw out your back. You’re immobilized for days. These bodies—so incredibly durable, yet tragically fragile.

The Tent We Groan In

Paul understood this paradox. He compares our earthly bodies to tents—temporary, vulnerable, and easily battered (2 Corinthians 5:1–2). Pharaoh lived in a mansion; the Israelites fled in tents. Their only protection was God. Paul, a tentmaker by trade, knew their limits. I remember a lake trip in my youth when rain forced fifteen of us into a six-man tent. We pressed against the walls, and by morning the rain had left us soaked and freezing.

For thirty-nine years, I’ve lived with a disability. People often look at me with pity. That used to bother me. I’ve had people speak to my wife as if I couldn’t speak for myself because I was in a wheelchair. But that reveals more about them than about me. So I forgive.

Because of this, I long for the day when I receive my resurrection body and can run with my son in heaven—something I never got to do with him here. Paul writes, “We groan in this tent, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling (2 Corinthians 5:4). And though we may feel burdened, God does not abandon us. The Spirit is our guarantee (2 Corinthians 5:5).

The Deposit That Secures Us

When I rented ski equipment, I had to leave a deposit. If I crashed and lost a ski, I’d lose the deposit. God, however, has promised to return—and He left us a deposit in the Holy Spirit. We don’t just trust Him because of His character, though we should. We trust Him because we see the Spirit working in our lives daily (2 Corinthians 5:5). That’s how we know that whatever we suffer in this life is worth it.

Paul reminds us we walk by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). And because we know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8), we don’t fear death. We look forward to the mansion He’s prepared—not because it’s spacious or built from solid materials, but because we will be at home with Jesus. I’d live on the ground in driving snow if I were with Him.

The “Therefore” That Changes Everything

The word that caught my attention this morning was the start of 2 Corinthians 7:1: “Therefore.” In Scripture, “therefore” is a hinge—it swings the door from what came before to what must come next. It calls us to look back and understand the conditions that led to the command.

Because of all Paul had suffered—the constant threats to his life—he learned not to rely on his own strength but on Christ’s. I know God has me as I am, not as punishment for my past, but as an opportunity to glorify Him in how I live today.

Paul didn’t suffer because he had persecuted the church. He suffered because his suffering brought others to know Jesus (2 Corinthians 6:4–10) ¹. It would be easy to say, “Trust Jesus and life will be easy.” Paul shows that following Jesus is hard. Satan doesn’t oppose those who follow the world. He helps the world keep us from discovering Christ. But when we belong to Jesus, we can expect opposition. That makes it a hard message to sell.

The Cost and the Glory

The benefits of following Christ outweigh the cost—but they’re not always visible. It would be easy to say, “This is heaven, this is hell.” But to get to heaven, life is going to be hard. The opposition says, “Hell isn’t that bad, and life can be easy.” The truth is—life is never easy, and hell is worse than anyone can imagine. Total separation from God means no hope, no relief (2 Thessalonians 1:9).

Therefore, I live by faith. The goal is to understand how our temporary hardship can highlight God’s glory. When people see my faith displayed from my wheelchair, they wonder how much less faith they would need. If I can walk by faith, so can they (2 Corinthians 5:9).

So again—therefore—how can the challenges you go through lead others to Christ? If you’re going through trials (and we all are), look at others and ask, “How do they keep going?” You may learn it’s because Christ compels them to keep going (2 Corinthians 5:14).

If you don’t know this, you can. Call on the name of the Lord Jesus (Romans 10:13) and ask Him to give you the faith to believe (Mark 9:24). He will never forsake you (Hebrews 13:5).

Tomorrow, we will read 2 Corinthians 8-10.

Footnotes

  1. God’s Blessing. “Commentary on 2 Corinthians 6:4–10.” God’s Blessing. https://godsbless.ing/commentary/2-corinthians/2_corinthians_6_4-10/