“So, you mentioned not being afraid, how God spoke through a children’s song to bring comfort on the Wednesday just prior to this horrendous storm.”

A snide laugh before, “But then Hurricane Helene hit less than forty-eight hours later. How, may I ask, do you explain that?”

This was how the conversation began, and it left me without answer.

My pause beckoned the barrage that followed.

“Where exactly was God when winds and rain washed away those homes, hopes, and dreams—that which you spoke about, hmm?”

Still, nothing, so he took advantage of my silence.

“He’s got the whole world in His hands, huh? Really? The wind and the rain too? And how about those itty-bitty babies verse three speaks of? The sisters and the brothers from verse four? What about them? Haven’t you heard the news? Many children, beloved brothers and sisters, were washed away.”

A pause.

Then, in a mocking tone I can’t adequately convey–

“His promise? ‘When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you…’ Ha! Don’t you know those rivers, those waters, did overtake more than two hundred people, one of them being your friend’s brother? What about them, huh? Your words, they were nothing but lies—misleading people, making them think they’d be okay. Truth is, they’re not. They won’t be. How does that make you feel?”

Speechless for one more moment, I almost allowed his accusations, his words, to settle, sink in, penetrate my broken heart, fragmenting it even more.

But then…

Squaring my shoulders, lifting my chin, I replied–

“How do I feel? My heart’s heavy, my words few. I fear if I stop long enough to allow myself to cry, really cry, I’ll never stop, the devastation’s so vast.”

I took a breath. “But those words I wrote? They weren’t mine. They came right from The Word, straight from God’s Word. Therefore, no matter what you say, they’re true—today, yesterday, and always.”

Another inhale as I prepared to continue.

“God does have the whole world in His hands. He does. Don’t think for one moment He doesn’t. He didn’t cause this catastrophic flood. His grief over the loss is more than everyone else’s combined. Truth is, He can’t wait to reveal all He’s making new, and until then, He’s right here with us.”

I sniffed, the tears beginning to flow, but rather than silence me, they gave me courage.

“And while I’m talking about God, about His promises–those proclamations I wield when facing an enemy, even a Category 4 ‘Red’ storm—He was present in it, and He’s bringing comfort in this devastating loss. He will continue to use His people—those brothers and sisters, yes, even children He holds in His hands—to offer encouragement, much needed supplies, and…”

What?

What will God us them—and me, too—to bring?

Oh, yes…

“Hope. Hope and joy. He is and will continue to use us to bring this and more to those who are suffering in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. Just you wait for the stories.”

One final deep breath, then–

“They’re coming. I’ve already heard some of them—testimonies of those watching as others were carried away by waters too strong, too swift. And guess what people are saying, what they’re testifying to?”

This time, the one who, only moments earlier, came at me with accusations, remained silent.

“They’re saying that, in what should be the most terrifying of times, victims of Hurricane Helene are, with their final words, victorious. And you know how? Because they’re calling out one word.”

Right then, I saw it.

My accuser flinched.

After all, he knew what was coming.

But me?

I smiled before I spoke, because I always smile, even through tears, at the mention of His name.

And what I said caused him to recoil, disappearing from my presence.

“Jesus.”

And, though nothing’s changed–my heart still heavy with the grief of loss–I’ll turn and do the next thing.

Indeed, I’ll appropriate another promise.

It’s an anchor, one I’ll cling to until the end—

“You will go out with joy and be led forth with peace. The mountains and the hills will break forth with singing and the trees of the field will clap their hands…” (from Isaiah 55).

Father, You hold all things in Your loving, merciful, gracious hands. Help us weep as You weep and rejoice in Your promises, which bring hope and joy. At Your Son’s name–Jesus–the enemy flees. May we speak it often, with boldness and love to a world in need.