Adrift

I was struggling. A common occurrence.

The story of an amazing just-in-the-nick-of-time rescue on the Bering Sea left a bitter taste in my mouth. Why doesn’t he say God doesn’t always make it okay? Why does he make it sound like God will fix whatever crisis we bring to Him?

A couple, their musician friend, and a pilot headed home from sharing the gospel with a small town in eastern Russia. Thirty minutes into the return flight, an odd jolt shook the cabin. They had lost an engine. At 3,500 feet the second engine died. They hit the water at 90 miles per hour, but the plane stayed intact.

Everyone grabbed empty gas containers and exited as the sea swallowed the plane whole. Adrift in 36-degree waters. What were their chances?

The opposite of the “perfect storm,” a string of good fortunes secured their rescue.

My son experienced a “perfect storm” seven years ago. He didn’t make it. Why?

Yes, I want to hear that others get rescued. I’m glad they are. Maybe it’s the wound in my heart that keeps me from processing this clearly.

Today my study of Ephesians 3:20 provided some balm. “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us.” Deep and lofty, but it was the three words, “who is able,” that arrested my attention.

Who is able. Maybe that’s why sometimes God rescues in the way that we want. Maybe that’s part of the reason God answers our prayers in the way that pleases us. To show He is able. He alone is able. And to show how needy we are.

My questions still stand. Why doesn’t God always avert what we consider to be tragedy? Why is disaster, death, and discouragement commonplace?

I don’t know. But I’m not God, so I don’t need to know. Someday the struggles will be over. Until then, I need to trust.

(If you’ve read this blog entry, please read the follow-up that will be posted in the next day or two.)