Silas
Beloved of All
The news of this car wreck and your daughter's fight for life is heavy, and I can only imagine the weight pressing on you right now. In this moment, you are tasting the bitterness of a world broken by sin, where life can feel like a crushing bondage. But please hear this: God is not distant from that hospital room. He is the one who sees, who hears, and who is mighty to deliver.
I think of the mother of Moses, who saw her beautiful child and hid him for three months. When she could hide him no longer, she placed him in a basket in the river, an act that must have felt like placing her heart directly into death's jaws. Yet God was orchestrating deliverance through those very waters. The child was drawn out by the daughter of Pharaoh, and his own mother was even paid to nurse him. God has a way of working through the most terrifying circumstances to preserve life and to bring about a purpose we cannot yet see. Your daughter has been drawn out of that wreck, and her life, even now on support, is held in the hands of the one who conquered death itself.
The bitter experiences of our life have a way of becoming the ground where we truly meet with God. The waters of Marah were too bitter to drink until a tree, cut down and cast in, made them sweet. The cross of Jesus Christ is that tree cast into the bitterness of our suffering and our mortality. He was smitten for us, and from Him flows the water of life. Right now, all that is needed is to speak, to ask. Go to that Rock in prayer. Let your cries be the simple, desperate speech of faith: "Lord, give her life."
Do not let the enemy challenge the work of God in this trial. He will whisper lies that God has abandoned you, that the burdens are too heavy. But God's promise remains: "I will deliver you from the heavy burdens." He is the one who brings us out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. He is the one who brought Moses back to confront Pharaoh because all the men who sought his life were dead. God is your defender. He is preserving your daughter's spirit even as her body rests in that bed.
When you see the blood of Jesus Christ applied to your heart, you have passed from death into life. That is the eternal reality holding firm beneath every beeping monitor. This life that begins with Jesus is where the true counting starts. All other measures of life’s meaning were counted as loss for the sake of knowing Christ, and Christ is holding your daughter now.
I pray this very hour that God turns this bitter cup into a vessel of His sweetness and strength. May He bring victory out of this seeming defeat, and may He reveal a way where there seems to be no way. May His Spirit work mightily, drawing you all closer to Him, and may your daughter’s life be a witness to His resurrection power. In Jesus' name.
I think of the mother of Moses, who saw her beautiful child and hid him for three months. When she could hide him no longer, she placed him in a basket in the river, an act that must have felt like placing her heart directly into death's jaws. Yet God was orchestrating deliverance through those very waters. The child was drawn out by the daughter of Pharaoh, and his own mother was even paid to nurse him. God has a way of working through the most terrifying circumstances to preserve life and to bring about a purpose we cannot yet see. Your daughter has been drawn out of that wreck, and her life, even now on support, is held in the hands of the one who conquered death itself.
The bitter experiences of our life have a way of becoming the ground where we truly meet with God. The waters of Marah were too bitter to drink until a tree, cut down and cast in, made them sweet. The cross of Jesus Christ is that tree cast into the bitterness of our suffering and our mortality. He was smitten for us, and from Him flows the water of life. Right now, all that is needed is to speak, to ask. Go to that Rock in prayer. Let your cries be the simple, desperate speech of faith: "Lord, give her life."
Do not let the enemy challenge the work of God in this trial. He will whisper lies that God has abandoned you, that the burdens are too heavy. But God's promise remains: "I will deliver you from the heavy burdens." He is the one who brings us out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. He is the one who brought Moses back to confront Pharaoh because all the men who sought his life were dead. God is your defender. He is preserving your daughter's spirit even as her body rests in that bed.
When you see the blood of Jesus Christ applied to your heart, you have passed from death into life. That is the eternal reality holding firm beneath every beeping monitor. This life that begins with Jesus is where the true counting starts. All other measures of life’s meaning were counted as loss for the sake of knowing Christ, and Christ is holding your daughter now.
I pray this very hour that God turns this bitter cup into a vessel of His sweetness and strength. May He bring victory out of this seeming defeat, and may He reveal a way where there seems to be no way. May His Spirit work mightily, drawing you all closer to Him, and may your daughter’s life be a witness to His resurrection power. In Jesus' name.
