Scars and Sovereignty

Tag: faith in suffering

  • The Hands That Hold Us

    The Hands That Hold Us

    Day 34

    Exodus 17–18 | Mark 16

    “But Moses’ hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun.” (Exodus 17:12)

    Israel’s victory in battle wasn’t about their strength. It wasn’t even about Moses’ strength. It was about dependence—on God and on the people He provided to stand beside him.

    Moses stood on the hill, staff raised, as Israel fought below. As long as his hands were lifted, they prevailed. But when exhaustion set in and his arms dropped, the enemy gained ground. So Aaron and Hur stepped in. They didn’t take over the battle. They didn’t carry the staff for him. They simply held him up when he no longer could.

    That picture of dependence hits me hard. I’ve always prided myself on being capable, strong, independent. But then came November 2. The moment the saw met my hand, my independence was gone. I couldn’t drive. Couldn’t button my own shirt. Couldn’t even cut my own dinner at Men’s Bible study on Wednesday nights—my best friend J had to do it for me. Talacey had to wash my left armpit because my right hand had to be wrapped in a garbage bag each time I showered. My cousin Carson had to take over hosting Christmas Eve because I couldn’t cook or carve the prime rib like I do every year.

    And then there was Bob, originally my boss and now a good friend, who was chomping at the bit to board a plane the moment he heard what happened. Who called or texted every single day, making sure I knew I wasn’t forgotten. He had no obligation to do that, but he did. Because that’s what God does—He sends people to hold us up when we can’t stand on our own.

    That’s what J did. What Talacey did. What Carson, M, Andrei, Bob, and so many others did. When my hands were too weak to carry what God had given me, they stood beside me and held them up.

    Moses couldn’t sustain the battle alone. Neither can we.

    Mark 16 reminds us of the ultimate victory—the resurrection of Jesus. The moment when sin and death were defeated, not by human strength, but by divine power. The gospel itself is a story of dependence: we couldn’t save ourselves, so Christ did what we never could. And now, He calls us to do for one another what Aaron and Hur did for Moses—to stand beside the weary, to lift the burdened, to remind the broken that they are not alone.

    If you’re exhausted today—if you’re trying to hold it all together but your arms are shaking—hear this: You don’t have to do it alone. God sees you. He strengthens you. And He has placed people in your life to hold you up when you can’t stand on your own.

    Lord, thank You for the people You have placed in my life to lift me when I can’t lift myself. Teach me to rely on You, to rest in Your strength, and to be that kind of support for others. Amen.

  • Daily Bread, Eternal Provision

    Daily Bread, Eternal Provision

    Day 33

    Exodus 15–16 | Mark 15:16–47 | Psalm 15

    “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Behold, I am about to rain bread from heaven for you, and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day, that I may test them, whether they will walk in my law or not.’” (Exodus 16:4)

    In Exodus 16, the people of Israel are only one month removed from walking through the Red Sea on dry ground, and yet, they’re already grumbling. Hunger sets in, and nostalgia clouds their memory. They long for Egypt—the place of their slavery—because at least there, they had food. So God provides. Manna, bread from heaven, falls each morning, but there’s a condition: gather only what you need for the day. No hoarding. No storing up. Just trusting that tomorrow, He’ll do it again.

    And isn’t that where faith so often falters? Not in believing God can provide, but in trusting that He will—again and again, day after day.

    I see myself in Israel’s grumbling. Not for bread, but for control. I want to know what’s ahead. I want to store up security, gather extra just in case God doesn’t come through tomorrow. But He doesn’t work that way. He gives daily bread. Strength for today. Mercy for this moment. And He calls me to trust Him for the next.

    Then I come to Mark 15, where the One who called Himself the Bread of Life is broken. The Israelites were sustained by bread from heaven, but now, heaven’s true provision hangs on a cross, forsaken and starving. Jesus—the Son of God, the One who could turn stones into bread if He wished—receives nothing. No relief. No rescue.

    The people at the foot of the cross mocked Him: “He saved others; he cannot save himself.” (Mark 15:31) And they were right, though not in the way they thought. He didn’t save Himself because He was saving us. The Bread of Life was emptied so that we could be filled.

    Israel worried about tomorrow’s provision, but Jesus ensured our eternal one.

    Where am I still trying to gather more than what God has given for today? Where am I looking for security instead of trusting in His daily grace?

    God still provides daily bread. Some days it comes as encouragement, some days as endurance, some days as the strength to take just one more step. But always, He gives exactly what we need. And always, He is enough.

    Lord, help me trust Your daily provision. Teach me to rest in what You give and not fear what I lack. Let my heart not grumble, but believe. Amen.

  • The Long Way Around

    The Long Way Around

    Day 32

    Exodus 13–14 | Mark 14:66–15:15

    “By a strong hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt.” (Exodus 13:16)

    God didn’t take Israel on the shortest route to the Promised Land. The direct path through Philistine territory would have gotten them there quickly—but God knew their hearts. He knew that when faced with fear, they’d turn back to the slavery they had just been freed from. So instead, He led them the long way. A harder way. A way through the wilderness.

    But He never left them. The pillar of cloud went before them by day, the fire by night—constant reminders of His presence.

    Then, when Pharaoh’s army closed in, the people panicked. And Moses told them:

    “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will work for you today.” (Exodus 14:13)

    Stand firm. Watch God work.

    That hits home.

    I didn’t get the easy way out either. When I woke up in a hospital bed in San Francisco, my hand wrapped in bandages and warming blankets, my future uncertain, I would have given anything for a shortcut to healing. A way around the pain. A quick resolution to the suffering. But instead, He led me the long way—the harder way. The way through the wilderness.

    And yet, like Israel, I was never alone.

    He was there in every detail. In my cousin, the paramedic supervisor who connected me to the best possible care. In my best friend, J, who just happened to be with me when it happened—his years of training as a first responder keeping me calm, talking me through shock and blood loss. In M, who was in the right place at the right time to get my wife to me. In my friend and pastor, Andrei, who walked past hospital staff when they said visitors were impossible, just to pray over me before I was airlifted away. In my mom and sister who dropped everything and drove 600 miles through the night to take care of my daughter. In my Aunt Carol, already in San Francisco for a business trip, waiting at my side when I woke up from surgery—because my wife and daughter were still in Fresno, three hours away.

    No visible pillar of cloud. No fire in the sky. But God was just as present. Just as faithful.

    And still, He says: “Stand firm. Watch Me work.”

    Late last night, my phone rang. It was a brother whose marriage is unraveling under the weight of his pornography addiction and the broken trust his sin caused. He’s desperate for a way forward, but there’s no shortcut through this kind of healing. No quick fix for reconciliation. Just the long way. The hard way.

    But I reminded him that we believe in the God who reconciles. The One who parts seas and makes a way where there is none.

    If you’re in the wilderness today—if the way ahead feels slow, painful, uncertain—know this: The long way is still God’s way. And He never leads us where His presence won’t sustain us.

    Lord, help me trust You in the long way around. When fear and doubt creep in, remind me that You are always near, always working, always faithful. Let me stand firm and watch You move. Amen.