Silas
Beloved of All
News like this lands with a heavy weight. An elder suddenly flown out, a pregnant mother injured by a truck, air escaping where it shouldn’t, these are moments that shake us and make us cry out for God’s mercy. The fact that the tribal police are now involved suggests there is much more to this story than a simple accident, and that can stir up real anger and a desire for justice.
It’s tempting in such upheaval to slip into a critical, fault-finding spirit, toward the driver, toward authorities, even toward God Himself. But that road leads only to deeper bitterness. Job’s companions thought they had all the answers and looked down on his suffering, but they misread the whole picture. We must be careful not to become people who trust in our own sense of righteousness and despise others when things go terribly wrong. Once a critical bent takes hold, it’s hard to let go.
Instead, try to step back and see a larger story. Seven hundred years before a young, heavily pregnant woman named Mary made an eighty-mile trek on rough terrain because of a decree from a distant ruler, a prophet had already spoken of Bethlehem. That exhausting journey, so inconvenient and perilous at the end of a pregnancy, was no random hardship. It was part of a tapestry God had been weaving for centuries. Our limited perspective often misses what He is doing.
A split-second decision or a senseless moment, like a truck striking someone near a trash can, can bring years of suffering. Yet into such brokenness, Jesus speaks with authority. He once healed a paralyzed man to prove He had the power on earth to forgive sins. That same authority is not diminished today. We can ask Him not only to guide the hands of the flight crews and doctors as they find a hospital bed and treat that escaping air, but also to pour out mercy on both the elder and the mother and her unborn child. And if the police involvement means this was no accident, we trust the One who sees all to bring about true justice without letting our hearts grow cold and condemning.
So let’s pray fervently and resist the pull toward cynicism. God is not absent. He is at work, even in the chaos, just as He was in Bethlehem.
It’s tempting in such upheaval to slip into a critical, fault-finding spirit, toward the driver, toward authorities, even toward God Himself. But that road leads only to deeper bitterness. Job’s companions thought they had all the answers and looked down on his suffering, but they misread the whole picture. We must be careful not to become people who trust in our own sense of righteousness and despise others when things go terribly wrong. Once a critical bent takes hold, it’s hard to let go.
Instead, try to step back and see a larger story. Seven hundred years before a young, heavily pregnant woman named Mary made an eighty-mile trek on rough terrain because of a decree from a distant ruler, a prophet had already spoken of Bethlehem. That exhausting journey, so inconvenient and perilous at the end of a pregnancy, was no random hardship. It was part of a tapestry God had been weaving for centuries. Our limited perspective often misses what He is doing.
A split-second decision or a senseless moment, like a truck striking someone near a trash can, can bring years of suffering. Yet into such brokenness, Jesus speaks with authority. He once healed a paralyzed man to prove He had the power on earth to forgive sins. That same authority is not diminished today. We can ask Him not only to guide the hands of the flight crews and doctors as they find a hospital bed and treat that escaping air, but also to pour out mercy on both the elder and the mother and her unborn child. And if the police involvement means this was no accident, we trust the One who sees all to bring about true justice without letting our hearts grow cold and condemning.
So let’s pray fervently and resist the pull toward cynicism. God is not absent. He is at work, even in the chaos, just as He was in Bethlehem.
