The following was written to provide perspective to those of you who have been following the story of the family that was involved in a Thanksgiving weekend car accident that took the life of a two year old girl, Helen Gray. Although the father, Brian, was uninjured, Kristy (mother) sustained severe injuries including a broken back (and paralysis).

Although the author wishes to remain anonymous I thought it was a good word and deserved to be posted for your encouragement and enrichment in cultivating a God-ward life.

Now when the attendant of the man of God had risen early and gone out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was circling the city, And his servant said to him, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” So he answered, “Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, I pray, open his eyes that he may see,” And the Lord opened the servant’s eyes and he saw; and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. 2 Kings 6: 15-17

Horrendous news. A little girl whose laughter will not be heard again. A father in unimaginable anguish. A mother paralyzed, in body and in soul. Returning to a house with small sudden flashes of her sweet presence, each one of them a dagger.

Where were those fiery chariots?

And how do we respond to this? Oh, we know to say the right things, even awkwardly – …so sorry for your loss…our prayers are with you…let us know if there is anything at all we can do…we’re here for you…

But our hearts react with a thudding stillness. We don’t go there. We don’t even verbalize our fears to each other or to God. We don’t ask out loud, God, why? God, how do I trust You when You seem indifferent? Or impotent? Or unkind? No, we let sleeping dogs lie. We tiptoe guardedly right past the sudden dread in our own hearts. Yet it is crucial that we do respond, that we face our own fears, that we grow our own faith, that we reach out with compassion, that we keep trusting God without reserve.

So let’s get honest then. Let’s not pretend that we have answers when we don’t. Let’s not fling up another pitifully inadequate analogy. Let’s not carefully construct a tidy theodicy that rings hollow in the face of heart-ripping pain. What else is left then for us to cling to? The wishful thinking that suffering will stay far away from us? Maybe a skewed theology that promises a life without hardship? In the end, when the quick answers and the cheap comforts and the false hopes are stripped away, there is nothing left except God. We have to face Him. And we have to make a choice.

We can either trust Him, radically, with abandon, or, well… or nothing else. I guess there is no other choice. Not really. It’s just God. How long could we settle for a Christian walk without any depth to it anyhow? How long can we pretend that things are okay inside when our very heart is screaming out in pain and anger? Where else can we turn?

We only have God. And that is a wonderful choice, because He is all we need. Trust Him. His grace will surge about us like a mighty storm. We’ll be surrounded by it, against all reason, comforted by it, carried by it. When we walk through the fire, in defiance of natural laws, we will not be scorched. That’s His grace. It is indeed enough. Trust Him.

So when we cannot see the fiery chariots around us, when it feels as though God has dropped us, pray that He would open our eyes. And keep the faith. This is not a blind faith, by any means. It is a seeing faith. When others see Syrian armies encamped about us, we see the Lord of Hosts encamped about us. When others see suffering that crushes, we see the refining fire, and we trust. This seeing faith keeps its eye unwaveringly on the true reality. It has eternal perspectives. It focuses on the Ancient of Days, the Eternal One, the tender Father. This seeing faith takes courage in the fact that God stepped into time and space, endured pain and suffering, keeping His eye on the joy set before Him. Let’s keep our eye on the Author and the Finisher of our faith. Grow that faith. And when nothing else makes sense, make the conscious, faith-filled choice to trust Him.

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus asks those closest to Him “So, you could not keep watch with me for one hour?” In Rev 2:10, Jesus’ encouragement rings strong:

“Do not fear what you are about to suffer, Behold, the devil is about to cast some of you into prison, so that you will be tested, and you will have tribulation for ten days. Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.”

Keep the focus. Keep the faith. What is our time here on earth? A breath, and it is gone. Ten days. Not that this minimizes our pain. One day without the beloved little girl that was ripped from our hearts will feel like a thousand years. But eternity does give us perspective. There will be an end to this life, to this suffering. Can we not trust Him? Can we not cling to His character, the One who is the lover of our souls? Can we not remain faithful – full of faith – to the end? And suffused by his grace, we can do more than enduring. We can live with an expectancy, an eye of faith set on the horizons of eternity, an excitement in our every step, for the perfect is drawing nearer every day.

The heart-cry of Paul is also our prayer for you.

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. 6 If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. 7 Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.
2 Corinthians 1:3-7