“Stop, Emma!” My brother’s voice exploded as he slammed the table with his fist and catapulted to his feet. His two-year-old daughter’s decent from the chair halted, fear streaking her face and her bare feet dangling above the floor. Tears welled in her eyes. Was this the daddy who kissed her before bed and stroked her blonde hair on the pillow? 

Sometimes when disaster or disappointment erupts in our lives, we can feel like Emma. Hearing tires squeal and feeling the impact. Getting called to the boss’s office after a mistake. Mom’s shaky voice telling us that Dad is in the ambulance on his way to the hospital.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Watt via Creationswap.com

In these moments, anxiety paralyzes us. God feels absent, and we question his love. 

When circumstances sting, it is possible that, like Emma, we don’t see everything that is at stake.

Surrounding Emma’s chair—just below her toes—lay a thousand shards of glass from a cup she had just dropped. My brother had one instant to halt Emma’s descent. His tone pained her, but it also protected her. Moments later, she was snug in his arms and his fingers were wiping the tears off her cheeks. 

If hardship detonates in my life today, whether manageable or monumental, I want to remember Emma’s tears and be reminded that God sees more than I do and that he never wastes pain.