GOD’S HAND IN THE FIRE
PART 1 OF 4
There is a question almost every Christian man eventually asks.
Especially after life hurts.
Especially after the marriage cracks.
The job disappears.
The diagnosis comes.
The relationship fails.
The prayer seems unanswered.
The future you expected collapses.
And somewhere in the silence, the question forms:
If God loves me… if I belong to Him… if He really protects His children… then why did He allow this?
That question does not necessarily come from unbelief.
Sometimes it comes from a man trying desperately to reconcile what he believes about God with what he has actually lived through.
We believe God is powerful.
We believe God is sovereign.
We believe God loves His children.
We believe He sees us.
We believe He hears us.
We believe He is able to intervene.
So naturally, we begin to define protection this way:
If God protects me, bad things should not happen to me.
But Scripture never gives us that promise.
Instead, Scripture gives us something deeper.
PROTECTION DOES NOT ALWAYS MEAN PREVENTION
Sometimes God prevents something.
Sometimes He redirects us.
Sometimes He closes a door.
Sometimes He removes a danger we never even knew existed.
But sometimes…
He allows the trial to come.
The believer still gets sick.
The Christian marriage still experiences pain.
The faithful man still loses people he loves.
The obedient man still encounters injustice.
The redeemed man still walks through fire.
That does not mean God has stopped protecting him.
It may mean we have misunderstood what protection looks like.
Paul described believers as:
Hard pressed, but not crushed.
Perplexed, but not in despair.
Persecuted, but not abandoned.
Struck down, but not destroyed.
Notice the language.
Paul did not say:
You will never be struck down.
He said:
You will not be destroyed.
That changes everything.
Because perhaps God’s protection is not always about keeping hardship from touching us.
Perhaps sometimes His protection is about making sure hardship does not get the final word.
GOD’S CHILDREN ARE NOT PROMISED AN EASY ROAD
Jesus never told His followers:
Follow Me and nothing painful will happen.
Quite the opposite.
He warned them that life in this world would contain trouble.
But He also told them to take heart.
Why?
Because He had overcome the world.
The Christian’s security is not built on the idea that nothing difficult will happen.
It is built on the identity of the One who holds him when difficulty comes.
That is a radically different kind of confidence.
Not:
Nothing bad will happen to me.
But:
Nothing that happens to me is greater than the God who holds me.
WE SEE THE MOMENT. GOD SEES THE WHOLE.
One of our greatest limitations is perspective.
We see the job we lost.
God sees everything connected to that job.
We see the relationship that ended.
God sees every possible road that relationship could have taken.
We see the prayer that seemed unanswered.
God sees what might have happened had the answer been different.
We see five minutes.
God sees generations.
We see today.
God sees eternity.
That does not mean we should casually declare that every disappointment was directly engineered by God.
We do not know enough to make that claim.
But we can say something else with confidence:
Our inability to understand what God is doing does not mean God has lost control.
His abilities are not limited by our understanding.
His knowledge is not limited by our perception.
His sovereignty is not limited by our confusion.
And His love is not measured only by whether life feels comfortable.
WHAT IF YOU HAVE BEEN PROTECTED MORE THAN YOU KNOW?
Think about your life.
How many dangers did you never see?
How many roads did you almost take?
How many relationships could have gone differently?
How many moments might have changed everything?
How many times could something have happened…but didn’t?
We will probably never know.
And maybe that is part of faith.
We trust God not only for the things we understand.
We trust Him for the thousands of things we cannot possibly see.
GOD’S ABILITIES CANNOT BE FULLY UNDERSTOOD
This may be one of the most important truths a man can accept.
We cannot fully comprehend:
His timing.
His providence.
His restraint.
His intervention.
His protection.
His discipline.
His mercy.
His foresight.
His ability to use circumstances separated by years or even generations.
At some point, faith requires humility.
It requires a man to admit:
I do not possess enough information to understand everything God is doing.
That is not weakness.
That is perspective.
A God whose abilities could be completely explained by the human mind would not be much of a God.
We are the creation.
He is the Creator.
And there will always be things about His purposes that remain beyond us.
THE PHOENIX MAN MUST LEARN THIS
The man standing in the ashes will often ask:
Where was God?
That question deserves more than a cliché.
God’s protection does not always mean that the fire never comes.
Sometimes it means that the fire does not get to own the man.
Sometimes the greatest evidence of God’s protection is not that you avoided the crash.
It is that you are still here.
Still breathing.
Still able to repent.
Still able to rebuild.
Still able to love.
Still able to return.
Still able to become.
You may have been struck down.
But brother—
you have not been destroyed.
THE QUESTION CHANGES
The frightened man asks:
Why did God allow this?
The surrendered man eventually begins asking something deeper:
God, since I am here, what would You have me become now?
That question moves a man forward.
It does not erase the pain.
It does not pretend the past was good.
It does not require him to understand everything that happened.
It simply acknowledges that the story is not finished.
The fire may have reached you.
But the fire does not own you.
The crash may have changed you.
But the crash does not get to define the rest of your life.
Your future still belongs to God.
PHOENIX DECLARATION
I do not understand everything God has allowed.
I do not know everything God has prevented.
I cannot see everything He sees.
I cannot understand everything He understands.
But I know whose hand I am in.
Nothing can ultimately have me.
The fire does not own me.
The crash does not own me.
My past does not own me.
I belong to God.
NEXT DISPATCH:
STRUCK DOWN — NOT DESTROYED
Part 2 of God’s Hand in the Fire
THE FORGE NEVER CLOSES.
Keep walking.
Keep surrendering.
Keep becoming the man God is calling you to be.
— Dennis Glaze
The Phoenix Dispatch
Letters from the Fire