His presence is the miracle

I used to pray for the prevention.

For the closed door before it slammed shut.

For the diagnosis to never come.

For the betrayal to never find me.

For the furnace to never get lit.

But I’ve come to learn something more holy, more harrowing, and somehow more healing:

God may not have prevented it…

But He was in it.

He didn’t stop the flames from roaring, but He stepped into the blaze and stood beside me.

He didn’t rush in like I expected,

didn’t always pull me out like I begged,

but He was always already in the fire.

The fourth man didn’t come running into the furnace, He was already there, waiting.

The same God who split seas did not split this suffering wide open for me to walk through dry-shod. This time, He chose to walk with me through the water instead.

This time, He didn’t keep me from the fire,

He kept me in it.

Preserved.

Unconsumed.

Still breathing when I should’ve suffocated from the smoke of it all.

And here’s the mystery that makes me weep:

The fourth man never came out.

He didn’t exit with the others.

He remained.

Because someone else would be walking in after them.

Me.

You.

And He would not leave the fire unattended.

He is still in it,

in the hospital room,

in the courtroom,

in the sleepless night,

in the graveyard of dreams,

in the smoldering ashes of what used to be your joy.

I once thought His power was proven by prevention, but now I know it is most fiercely revealed in His presence.

Don’t let the silence fool you.

Don’t let the flames convince you He’s absent.

Don’t let the heat tell you He’s abandoned you.

He is in it.

He was always in it.

He never left.

He is the God who shows up in furnaces.

The God who smells like smoke because He stays. The God whose nearness doesn’t always look like deliverance, but sometimes looks like dwelling.

So even if the fire lingers…

Even if the rescue doesn’t come when you want it… Even if all you have is a whisper in the smoke…God didn’t prevent it,but He was in it.

And He is still there.

In the fire.

With me.

And that is where I found Him more clearly than I ever did in comfort.

That is where I came to know His heart.

That is where I learned…

His presence is the miracle.