I puzzled at the early morning text. Why is my friend asking if we’re safe?
A text from my neighbor clued me in. “A pine tree fell and damaged your shed and maybe your house.”
My oldest daughter and I were out of the state for a college preview when I received these messages. I had no idea our family back home was in danger. We’d heard hurricane Helene was coming, but we live hundreds of miles from Florida. Our schools had closed, but we assumed it was just a precautionary measure.
I needed to call my family.
Relief washed over me when I heard my husband’s voice. “We’re safe. We’ve been camped out in the hallway for the past several hours.”
He went on to describe a storm unlike anything we’d ever experienced. The wind was so fierce they could feel it in the house with the doors and windows closed. Rainwater came into the living room because the storm blew it under the windowsills. A tree fell on my husband’s car, but thankfully none landed on our house.
My daughter and I finally made it home after several GPS reroutes, and tears filled my eyes as I drove into our city. Billboards stripped of their ads. The side of a building lying on the ground next to a tangle of broken power lines. Cars crushed and houses cut in half by massive fallen pines.
Never had I witnessed such devastation. Oh, I’d seen pictures and videos of hurricane damage before. But this was my city. These were my neighbors. That was our car.
In the days that followed, I experienced a jumble of emotions. Grief for my friends over what they’d lost. Relief that we hadn’t lost much. Guilt over feeling such relief. Shame for being sad and anxious when others had it worse. Gratitude for the hundreds of different ways our community banded together to show love.
As I processed all these feelings in prayer, I sensed God’s Spirit saying to mine, Look for what is constant and anchor yourself there.
Life’s storms will come, both the physical and the metaphorical ones, but I’m thankful God’s heart never changes. In the wake of our storms, we can anchor ourselves to who he is and lean into his gracious presence.
Why should I keep following God when he isn’t answering my prayers?
The unspoken question haunted me. I wished I didn’t feel this way. I told myself I should just keep trusting. For all my trying, though, the uncertainty continued. And with it, accusations against God’s character chipped away at my faith.
God doesn’t really care about you.
He’ll never answer your prayers.
He probably isn’t trustworthy.
With gentleness and grace, God drew near, reminding me he already knew my thoughts. He invited me to bring them into the open. Voice the feelings. Verbalize the doubts. Lay bare my soul before the One who sees me as I am and loves me.
So, I did.
As I poured out my disillusionment and admitted what my head was saying about his heart, I found myself on holy ground. He met me there in a deeply personal way. Rather than bypassing my pain or scolding my lack of faith, he received my questions. With his still, small voice, he asked me a question in return, the same question he’d asked Peter in John 6:67, “Do you want to walk away?”
As I pondered his question, I found myself answering as Peter did, “Where would I go? You have the words of life” (v 68). I remembered the history we’ve shared — how he delivered me from a food addiction as a teenager, how he healed my broken heart as a young adult. I’d tasted of his goodness. I’d experienced his grace. He was as real to me as the people in my own family.
No, I didn’t want to walk away. Despite the pain in my soul, even though he had yet to answer my prayers, he was still the same God. Still loving. Still powerful. Still for me and worthy of my trust.
I left that encounter a different person, not because my circumstances had changed or because he’d promised me they would. On the contrary, he gave me himself. He let me experience his open-hearted welcome, his understanding, and his soul-mending grace.
When our faith is slipping, God offers to be our firm foundation (Isaiah 33:6). He stands ready with open arms to receive us in our brokenness, eager to welcome us home (Luke 15:20). He’ll never reject those who come to him (John 6:37).
If you find yourself in a similar spot, I invite you to make space to pour out your heart before God.
If you ask ten people to define the gospel, you’ll likely get ten different answers. Over time and through frequency of use, the word gospel has lost much of its meaning. As Christians, we know it has to do with salvation. We accepted the gospel when we came to faith in Jesus, and we’re supposed to share the gospel with others.
Yet how can we share what we don’t clearly understand? What does the Bible really teach about the gospel?
To read more about the gospel, who it’s for, and what makes it really good news, hop over to Bible Study Tools:
A range of emotions swirled in my heart as I watched the storm rage outside. This hurricane, which had inspired so much fear and left devastation in her wake, Hurricane Irma – she was a mere tropical storm when she reached us. Still, those winds…
The rain fell at a 45 degree angle. We heard trees come down as we braced ourselves for what might come next.
The power flickered nearly a dozen times before finally going out completely. Everything became quiet and still. All we heard was the storm and the sound of each other’s voices.
We had expected to lose power. We were prepared, our kitchen stocked with soup, ramen noodles, trail mix and bottled water.
But as the hours stretched on, time seemed to slow down. Minutes turned into hours and hours into days. Four very long days before the electricity came back on.
Do you know what I missed the most?
Light.
I missed the ability to flip a switch and watch the darkness vanish instantaneously.
Light makes it easier to do the simple stuff – like open a can of soup, or find that utensil I just dropped on the floor, or bathe my child. It prevents stumbling over toys left on the floor. It helps with eating and reading and pretty much everything else daily life requires.
During those four days of darkness, God who is light illuminated some dark corners of my heart. Areas I didn’t realize I felt such a need to control –
My routine and the smooth running of the day
The way in which things get done
When and what we eat
A whole lot of other daily life details
I guess control is really just an illusion. All it takes is a loss of electricity and suddenly, I’m no longer in control.
But God is, always.
And the longer I know Him, the more I realize that’s a good thing. His heart is kind and full of love. He works everything for the good of His own – even when we can’t see how that’s possible.
When the proverbial reins are taken from our hands, everything slows down and all that’s extraneous gets stripped away. We’re free to look with fresh eyes on the life God has given us.
“How great is Your goodness, which You have stored up for those who fear You…” (Psalm 31:19).
Sometimes life is decidedly not good.
“Little” annoyances can drive us crazy – like four days without electricity. On those days, God offers to carry our burdens so we can rest in His control.
Other times life comes unraveled and the daily pain is excruciating. But God Himself is unchangeably good, even when life is not. He is near to the brokenhearted and invites us to find rest near His heart.
God…Light in our darkness. Sovereign in our craziness. Healer, Sustainer, Miracle worker, the Giver of every good gift.
For what attribute of God are you thankful today? How do you see Him meeting your needs today? In what areas do you need to rest in His control?
Light.