In a painful season, I learned an important lesson: The difficulties we face—both our struggles with sin and with suffering—can blind us to God’s goodness, generosity, and grace that are everywhere around us.
It was twelve years ago. My older brother had taken his own life, and it was like a gut punch to my soul. Some memories are seared so vividly in our minds. I’ll never forget receiving that call from my parents.
In the months following, my spiritual eyesight dimmed. I was disoriented and struggled to make sense of my reality. Everything seemed dark—it was like I was wearing sunglasses that made everything gray and dreary. I couldn’t seem to see God or his goodness. If I would have drawn a picture to represent how I viewed my life in that season, it would have had a dark cloud over me, little color and lots of gray. God would have been absent or, at best, at the very periphery.
In that season I had to learn how to see God again, and truth be told, to see God more accurately. And that was a gift. One of the fascinating themes throughout Scripture is that God often shows up in unexpected ways.
For example, after the prophet Elijah defeats the prophets of Baal in a spectacular miracle from the Lord, Queen Jezebel swears on her own life to kill Elijah. If you’re not familiar with this story, it’s well worth the read. You can find it in 1 Kings 18-19. Elijah flees, and in despair in the wilderness, he prays to the Lord to end his life. This is shocking. Even though he had just experienced the Lord’s spectacular deliverance, he couldn’t see a way out of this trial. His fear blinded him to the Lord’s power, care, and commitment to him and his people.
In small but important ways, the Lord met him there in the wilderness. The Lord gave Elijah sleep and food (twice—because one nap and a good meal aren’t enough when you’re afraid and in despair). After that he brings him to Mount Horeb, aka Mount Sinai, the same place where God had met Moses and given Israel the Ten Commandments.
Then chapter 19 says,
There he came to a cave and lodged in it. And behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and he said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He said, “I have been very jealous for the LORD, the God of hosts. For the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away.” And he said, “Go out and stand on the mount before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:9-13)
The Lord doesn’t come to Elijah in the powerful intensity of the wind, earthquake, or fire, but in a low whisper. The Lord met Elijah in an unexpected way.
Just like he would come centuries later not as a wealthy king in a royal palace or a conquering warrior, but as a baby lying in a manger. He was indeed a king, but he was exalted to his throne by being lifted up on a cross to be tortured and killed. No one expected a king like this, and almost everyone who encountered him in his day did not see God’s Messiah who had come to rescue the world.
And on that very dark Saturday between Good Friday and Easter, all seemed to be lost. Even his own disciples couldn’t see hope, couldn’t see how God would allow this tragedy, couldn’t see how the one they thought was God’s Messiah could be crucified. They couldn’t see God.
But the reality was that this was the focal point of God’s plan of redemption that he had been working out for many centuries. Not only was God not absent—this was his finest hour!
We humans—even we who follow Jesus—can be notoriously poor at seeing God at work in and around us. We are accustomed to looking for something big, something grand, something obvious. And we so often assume that if we can’t see God working, then he must not be!
But God is always working, even when we can’t see it. And we often can’t see it because we’re looking in the wrong place or for the wrong things. As you seek help for your particular struggle, you might feel like in this season God is absent from your life. But it just might be that he’s doing something significant in your life in a way you would not expect.
Yes, God sometimes works spectacularly in mountaintop experiences like when he delivered Elijah from the prophets of Baal. But he also works in much more subtle ways, like bringing him into the wilderness, giving him sleep and food, and speaking to him in a low whisper to bring him out of despair.
God’s grace is everywhere, but we must have our eyes attuned to look for it, especially in a hard season.
In the months after my brother died, God slowly opened my eyes to see him in the midst of the pain. He was present in my grief. He provided friends who listened, prayed for me, and patiently walked with me through that season. On hard days he met me in so many small but significant ways—a conversation with someone, a paragraph in a book that spoke to my heart, a good night’s sleep. His grace and goodness were everywhere. I just needed my eyes opened to it.
So, ask yourself, “How well attuned am I to seeing God’s hand at work?” Pray that the Lord will open your eyes to the ways his goodness, generosity, and grace are at work in your midst.
