Disasters Make Room For the Divine
I’ve lived in some disaster zones in my lifetime.
Disasters change us. They scare us and remind us of life’s uncertainty and unpredictability. They force us to either flounder on our own understanding or find Jesus in the aftermath.
While I was visiting my parents on a college break, a devastating tornado hit their Dallas suburban home and nearly destroyed it. I will never forget the destructive wind that drove us to our faces as we belly crawled through the house in the dark in the middle of the night looking for one another. As long as I live, I will never forget my parents lying on top of me in protection from the flying debris swirling around us. The storm killed a neighbor and destroyed our neighborhood. It was terrifying. We lived in a disaster zone for months afterward while the Red Cross delivered food to those who were cleaning up and rebuilding. We shopped for clothes to wear at the local high school gym where people had donated needed items. It was humbling and hard.
Other storms and hurricanes have blown my way. In 2017, my family endured Hurricane Harvey. We helplessly watched the floodwaters rise for days in our hometown of Houston and spent the weeks afterward mucking out houses of friends and strangers with crews from our church. We turned our nonprofit into a relief area where we collected items for storm victims. We witnessed the beautiful community that often arises following a storm. We celebrated with friends as they rebuilt their lives and homes.
I’ve had other seasons of devastation in my life as well. We don’t ask for disasters in our lives. Well, generally, I don’t. One time, my young husband stood on the front porch because the tornado sirens were going off and he wanted to see if he could spot one. I was in the fetal position in the empty bathtub with a mattress over my head, screaming, “You’re going to die!” We don’t seek out disease, death, despair, or depression. But trials come anyway.
In my case, I feel as if many of my dreams have led to some of the biggest disasters in my life. But one thing I know with certainty is that dreams and disasters make room for the divine.
I don’t know what kind of mountain you are facing today—an enormous dream, an impossible disaster, or maybe a dose of both. But I do know that our motivation for wanting the mountains moved matters. If we want God to do the impossible so that he will be glorified, we are standing on ground that can be moved.
We also must remember that if Jesus doesn’t move the mountain or perform the miracle, he is still good. We praise him when he does the impossible, and we praise him when he does not. We are really talking about faith in action. Hebrews 11:1 says, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” We long for the impossible not because we deserve it. We hope for it because when God moves mountains, he is glorified in and through our dreams and disasters. Faith is the foundation of the Christian life and the means by which all unseen things are tested. Faith means we trust in what God has promised, resulting in a life of faithfulness and perseverance.
Blessings,
Kristen Welch
-Excerpt from Made to Move Mountains: How God Uses Our Dreams and Disasters to Accomplish the Impossible
Kristen Welch, blogger at We are THAT family, is a bestselling author and founder of Mercy House Global. Made to Move Mountains releases March 3, 2020.
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