You don’t really know someone until you sit down and hear their story. The sighs behind the smiles. The battles behind the strength.
Our culture rarely takes time for that kind of vulnerable conversation anymore. Some things, perhaps, will always remain unspoken. But everyone carries something. Suffering comes with many faces but doesn’t come with answers.
Some seasons leave you completely UNDONE. Even when you know the truth—that God is powerful, healing, good— still, even the truest truth can feel like a dim shadow. You believe it. But barely. I’ve had many times like that. The last few years have been some of the hardest.
I’d like to think I’ll respond with perfect faith and all the right attitudes when hard things come. But I probably won’t, because I haven’t ever. Thankfully, grace doesn’t wait for perfect responses.
The other night, storms rolled through Tennessee. Lightning. Thunder. Wind. Incredible power. That same morning, I read Psalm 18. David was struggling hard at the start of this Psalm. But trials don’t just test what you know. They test who you TRUST.
We think of David as a mighty warrior. But he spent long stretches in caves, not castles. Betrayed. Slandered. Overlooked – even by family. He knew hurt. Fear. Loneliness. This isn’t just Bible story plot. It’s real life.
And yet, God. That’s what the Psalms are full of. David’s greatness came not from his strength, but from what God did in his weakness.
In Psalm 18, David cried out for help. God tore open the skies. Smoke rose. Thunder shook. Fire blazed. Heaven moved with one breath. A holy God showed up – for one broken man.
God created the universe with words. But when protecting His beloved, He does more than speak. He shows up. Not distant. Not indifferent. Present. Powerful. Unstoppable.
That’s the kind of love holding you now.
When everything hurts. When betrayal is fresh. When your name is misused. When grief, anxiety, silence suffocate. God doesn’t ignore it.
Sometimes His love rushes like a storm.
Sometimes it stays silent – shaping and strengthening. Not always delivering from the fire but walking through it with us. In those cases, He doesn’t just help us survive. He reshapes us through it.
David testified to this: God trained his hands for battle. Turned darkness into light. Armed him with strength. Made his steps steady. “Your gentleness has made me great.”
God makes warriors from the weeping. Painful seasons aren’t the absence of God. They’re where His nearness means everything.
The scandal of grace is this: God runs toward you while you’re still face down. Loves you before you lift your head. Saves you before you stand.
That’s the gospel. And we need it every day.
