And we know that in all things God works for the good
of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28
Heavenly Father, we’re gladly driven to this classic passage in the midst of sobering realities. The drones-eye-view of miles and miles of tornadic destruction in middle Tennessee is frightening. Friends without homes; schools, businesses, and churches reduced to piles of bricks, contorted metal and wood splinters; families planning funerals…
Father, we know there are no exceptions to the category called “in all things,” in which you work for the good of your children. There’s no fine print qualifying the limits of your goodness. There’s no hidden rider in this passage excluding certain crises or mitigating circumstances. It’s still hard.
We love you, not because you’ve promised us a long comfortable life, free of hard things and confusing providences. We love you because you first loved us and gave Jesus for our redemption. Our greatest need isn’t for a safe life, but for a perfect Savior. May the Gospel never be cliché to us; but humbling, gladdening and centering.
Even if it’s hard for us to imagine what good things you might bring through this horrible tornado (and any of a number of mind-blowing, heart-wrenching, envelope-pushing situations—including the coronavirus), we have no reason not to trust you, not to anticipate great grace and profound mercy.
You’re calling us to neighbor love. You’re calling us to rolled up sleeves and Gospel-generosity—to faith expressing itself in love.
You are the Lord of the violent storm and the gentle spring breeze. You are sovereign over global viruses and supernatural healings. You send torrential storms on the just and unjust, and you hang the promise-laden rainbow in the sky for all of us. You alone are God, and you alone are good. May we trust and love to your glory, in these coming days. So very Amen, we pray, in Jesus’ wonderful and merciful name.