Hope in the Tension: An Encouragement for Our Facilitators

By Michael Desgrosseilliers, Elijah House President

Dear Facilitators,

As we continue our work of heart-healing and transformation in this critical hour, many of you are feeling the weight of growing tension in the spiritual atmosphere. You’re not imagining it. The pressure is real. The unseen war is active. And yet: you continue to show up, teach, listen, minister, and carry the burdens of others. We see you. More importantly, God sees you.

In this season, many have hoped for quick relief, that spiritual breakthroughs would come swiftly, that long-festering wounds would finally be healed. And yes, we are seeing movement. God is at work. But the journey is slow. The resistance remains high. The victories are sometimes hidden, and the healing often takes time.

You don’t just hear about the weariness in the world. You encounter it firsthand. You sit with the brokenhearted. You walk with the confused, the angry, the disillusioned. You hold sacred space for those wrestling with deep wounds from families, churches, and life itself. And in doing so, you feel the strain. The emotional, spiritual, and even physical toll is real.

This summer, tragedy struck our community here in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho when several firefighters were shot while responding to a call on the outskirts of town. Events like these remind us of how fractured and fragile our world has become. Darkness, despair, and rage seem to be converging in new ways. Many feel as if they’re standing on a spiritual fault line, waiting for the next tremor.

And yet, I hear the Lord saying: Do not lose heart.

We are not called to sit in despair or to merely comment on the brokenness around us. We are called to be restorers of the breach.

In our Elijah House model, we do not teach people to escape the world. We teach people to partner with God in the midst of it. God is not preparing a broken, bruised Church limping toward the finish line. He is forming a radiant Bride, ready and mature. And you are part of that preparation.

Facilitators, you are not just leading classes. You are midwives in a spiritual reformation. The very tension you feel is evidence that something is being born. God is rebuilding lives, and He’s using your hands to help do it. He is not finished with this generation. The shaking is not the end. It is the exposure of what must be healed. And your ministry is a key part of that healing.

You are teaching people how to pray again, how to forgive again, how to love again, how to rebuild again. You are part of the answer to the very ache you see in others.

This is what it means to be salt and light (Matthew 5:13–14). You preserve what is sacred. You bring out the beauty of God’s design. You illuminate truth when others feel lost in confusion. You carry the fragrance of Christ into places that desperately need it.

Yes, the work is exhausting. And yes, it’s easy to become discouraged. But we must anchor ourselves not in what we see, but in what God has spoken.

"If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14

This is not a passive waiting. This is an active stand. We pray. We repent. We model humility. We refuse to bow to hopelessness or hardness of heart. Your classroom is more than a room. It is an altar of healing. Your words are more than teachings. They are tools of restoration. Your prayers are shaping spiritual history.

Breakthrough is coming. Healing is coming. It may not look the way we expected. It may not come as quickly as we long for. But it is real. And it is underway.

So, facilitators: don’t pull back. Press in. Love more deeply. Pray more boldly. Forgive more freely. Keep building.

And remember, hope is not a feeling. Hope is a person.

His name is Jesus. He is still Emmanuel. God with us. And He is still moving through you.

With gratitude and honor, Michael