The Greatest Illusion Does God Still do Miracles: Day 2

3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 5 For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. 6 If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. 7 And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. 8 We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. 9 Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. 10 He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, 11 as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.
2 Corinthians 1:3–11 (NIV)
 
Theme: God’s comfort does not erase our grief; it sustains us in it and equips us to comfort others.
 
Twelve years ago, we lost our middle son to suicide. The loss was overwhelming. I struggled to find answers from God. Where was the God who parted the Red Sea? Why couldn’t he have saved my son? Yet even in the most devastating loss imaginable, God still showed up. I still remember turning on the TV to watch the same preacher my wife had been watching for years. And on that particular day, he preached the message using the verses found in the opening Scriptures that still resonates with me today. Paul’s words bring us face-to-face with suffering, not around it. In verses 8–9, he acknowledges pressure beyond his ability to endure. His honesty makes room for ours: feeling overwhelmed does not mean we have failed to believe. Earlier, in verses 3–7, Paul describes comfort received in trouble and shared with others. Comfort is not an explanation for every loss, nor a demand that grief end quickly. It is God’s care meeting us where we hurt and sustaining us as we endure. Paul also looks back on deliverance and asks others to help through prayer in verses 10–11. We can keep bringing our needs to God without turning Paul’s experience into a promise that every tragedy will be prevented. Where, then, are the miracles in the midst of tragedy? This passage invites us to look for God’s sustaining care without calling the tragedy itself good. We can ask for rescue and receive comfort. We can carry unanswered questions and allow others to pray with us. And we can offer another hurting person the comfort we have received—not a tidy explanation, but compassion that makes room for their grief.

Reflection Questions
·       What grief or unanswered question am I carrying today? What would I like to say honestly to God, without feeling that I must explain my pain or rush past it?
·       Where, if anywhere, have I noticed comfort amid my trouble? Who could I invite to listen or pray with me, especially if comfort feels difficult to recognize right now?
·       When I feel ready, how might I share the comfort I have received with someone who is hurting—through listening, prayer, or simply being present, without trying to explain their loss?

Father of compassion, You know the grief I carry and the questions I cannot resolve. Help me come to You honestly, without pretending that my pain has passed or that I understand what has happened. Meet me with Your comfort and sustain me through this day. When comfort feels far away, help me reach out to someone who can listen and pray with me. Teach me to receive care without feeling that I must be strong on my own. As I am ready, help me share the comfort I receive with others—not with easy answers, but with patience, compassion, and a willingness to be present. I bring You my hopes and unanswered prayers. Help me trust You while making room for grief. In Jesus’ name, Amen.