Two hundred countries and territories as well as two cruise ships-that’s the current reading the ‘Worldometers’ websites gives for the spread of the coronavirus. That is both incredible and devastating. In the early weeks as the potential implications of the virus began to unfold, I remember hearing an international health official say that there was no need for alarm. “We can and will conquer this,” he said with confidence.

While that may well be true, it has been horrifying to watch Covid-19 devastate our world. A couple of weeks after the health official’s announcement we watched a videoclip of American doctors and nurses praying. Gathered in a hospital corridor, some wept as they asked God to intervene, to stem the spread of the infection and bring peace and calm to the panicked population of their town. They also asked for healing and for wisdom as they treated patients.

Their admission of impotency was striking. Here was a group of skilled professionals acknowledging their limits and asking the Creator of man for His help. It reminded me how fragile life is and that, despite all the wonderful medical advancements across our world, influences beyond our ability to control remain.

Illness, suffering and loss are a part of our lives. Which often leads people to ask the age-old question, “Why does a God of love allow such pain and suffering?” Some answer that question by explaining that there is no God and that evil, grief and injustice are just part of existence. But that dismissive answer deprecates the layered complexities of life.

There are no succinct answers. But one thing is clear; in suffering, we long for a hope that is outside of ourselves. Affliction and sorrow heighten our desire for comfort. That desire can lead us to God, to believe that He exists, or to draw us closer to Him. Conversely, pain can simply affirm our doubts. Unanswered questions thwart and confuse our minds leading us to conclude that God is absent.

A relative of Mark’s has motor neurone disease. Her diagnosis was, naturally, a journey of fear and anxiety. There were moments when her messages sounded a note of despair. We, her family and friends, prayed and from a distance, we observed a change in her. She moved her trust beyond the doctors and fully onto God. Her messages reflected a true peace that comes in the worst of times as she realised that Jesus is her all in all.

To find peace in pain seems like craziness, particularly to our natural minds. Yet it is true! While we can’t tidily answer questions on sorrow and grief, we can point people to the place of true peace. When we look beyond ourselves, past our noisy media-driven world and life’s uncertainties; when we can acknowledge our finiteness, bow our knee and declare our constant need for a Saviour; then we enter a place of hope and peace, because it is in our weakness that God accomplishes His salvation.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2020