The flood continued forty days on the earth. The waters increased and bore up the ark, and it rose high above the earth.
—Genesis 7:17
Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can floods drown it.
—Song of Solomon 8:7a
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.
—Isaiah 43:2
Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built.
—Luke 6:47-48
Sooner or later, we will all face circumstances that will show us that we are not as strong as we think we are. On our own.
I am not wise enough to have a tidy, postcard-sized theology of suffering and difficulty. But I don't have to. In fact, trying to pretend that I did would be another form of self-reliance, putting trust in the notion that I had everything figured out. Instead, reading the book of Job leads me to accept that even if I could ask the Lord to give me a full explanation of everything that happens in this world, I wouldn't understand the answer. And that's OK.
It's OK because He is above all the floods and winds and storms.
He doesn't take pleasure in our suffering, nor is He indifferent to it. He provides warning and instruction and “the way of escape” that allows us “to endure”. And He promised to be with us.
That takes different forms. Sometimes it means warning us not to stay in the valley, in the path of the coming flood (or collapsing glacier). Sometimes it means letting the flood waters lift us up, whether in an ark or on planks. Sometimes it means being the bedrock on which we can securely build, not because of our building skills, but because His foundation is secure. Sometimes the ground itself opens up and swallows the flood.
Despite the different forms and mysterious ways of His working, all of them show His unquenchable love and His enduring presence.
Above the Flood
The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
the floods have lifted up their voice;
the floods lift up their roaring.
Mightier than the thunders of many waters,
mightier than the waves of the sea,
the Lord on high is mighty!
—Psalm 93:3-4
The flood continued forty days on the earth. The waters increased and bore up the ark, and it rose high above the earth.
—Genesis 7:17
Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can floods drown it.
—Song of Solomon 8:7a
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.
—Isaiah 43:2
Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built.
—Luke 6:47-48
Sooner or later, we will all face circumstances that will show us that we are not as strong as we think we are. On our own.
I am not wise enough to have a tidy, postcard-sized theology of suffering and difficulty. But I don't have to. In fact, trying to pretend that I did would be another form of self-reliance, putting trust in the notion that I had everything figured out. Instead, reading the book of Job leads me to accept that even if I could ask the Lord to give me a full explanation of everything that happens in this world, I wouldn't understand the answer. And that's OK.
It's OK because He is above all the floods and winds and storms.
He doesn't take pleasure in our suffering, nor is He indifferent to it. He provides warning and instruction and “the way of escape” that allows us “to endure”. And He promised to be with us.
That takes different forms. Sometimes it means warning us not to stay in the valley, in the path of the coming flood (or collapsing glacier). Sometimes it means letting the flood waters lift us up, whether in an ark or on planks. Sometimes it means being the bedrock on which we can securely build, not because of our building skills, but because His foundation is secure. Sometimes the ground itself opens up and swallows the flood.
Despite the different forms and mysterious ways of His working, all of them show His unquenchable love and His enduring presence.