God Could See What I Couldn't

There are moments in life that change everything.

Not gradually. Not according to plan. Sometimes, almost overnight.

For us, one of those moments was Hurricane Katrina.

In August 2005, Tedd and I were living in Slidell, Louisiana, where we owned a television production company. On Friday, we were at work just like any other day. Saturday morning, we evacuated.

By Monday, Katrina had made landfall.

The eye of the storm passed over Slidell. Our office was only a few miles from Lake Pontchartrain, and even from a distance, we knew the devastation was extensive.

We also knew something else.

Life as we knew it had changed.

We had built a business there. We had plans there. We had a future there.

And suddenly, we were sitting in a hotel room in Jackson, Mississippi, wondering what came next.

Katrina was still strong enough to come through Jackson as a Category 1 hurricane. The hotel lost power. We were on the third floor, in August, with no air conditioning and windows that didn't open.

It was hot. It was uncomfortable. And everything outside of that hotel room felt uncertain.

We knew the recovery back home would take years. We knew the area wasn't going to be able to sustain a television production company anytime soon.

Our plans hadn't simply changed.

It felt as though someone had picked them up and scattered them to the wind.

And then, in the middle of all of that chaos, I felt the Lord speak something to my heart that made absolutely no sense at the time:

“You're going to look back, and this is going to be one of the best things that ever happened to you.”

I couldn't see how.

But I clung to that word from Him.

There was nothing about our circumstances at that moment that looked good.

We had evacuated our home.

Our business was essentially gone.

Our community was devastated.

We didn't know where we would live, where we would work, or what the next chapter of our lives would look like.

All I could see was what had just happened.

But God could see what I couldn't.

What Looked Like an Ending

Looking back now, I can see something I couldn't possibly see from that hot hotel room in Jackson.

There was another chapter waiting.

Eventually, Katrina took our lives in a direction we never would have planned for ourselves.

Friends of ours in California called and simply said, “Come stay with us.”

And so we did.

Our family of three moved across the country and into their home with their family of five. For three months, they opened not only their home, but their lives to us during a time when ours had been completely turned upside down.

We will forever be grateful for the way they loved us during that season.

That temporary move to California became the beginning of our next chapter. Tedd went to work for Trinity Broadcasting Network, and California became home for the next two years.

Then the journey took another unexpected turn.

Tedd's work brought us across the country again—this time to the Carolinas, where he went to work for Inspiration Ministries.

We sometimes laugh and say:

“Katrina blew us coast to coast.”

Louisiana to California.

California to the Carolinas.

And what began as an evacuation from a hurricane eventually led us to the place we have now called home for nearly twenty years.

None of that was on my to-do list.

Believe me.

If you had handed me a piece of paper before Katrina and asked me to write down my plans for the next few years, I wouldn't have written:

Lose your business. Evacuate your home. Move across the country. Then move across the country again.

That wasn't my plan.

But sitting where I am today, I can look backward and understand those words the Lord placed on my heart in that hotel room in a way I couldn't then.

I clung to those words because I knew one thing even when I didn't know what came next:

God is faithful.

And perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons Katrina taught me.

Sometimes we are standing in the middle of a chapter trying desperately to understand the whole story.

We can't.

We can only see the page we're on.

God sees the whole book.

Some Chapters Still Don't Make Sense

Katrina certainly wasn't the last time life didn't go according to my plans.

There have been many chapters since then that I wouldn't have chosen.

There has been loss.

There have been long seasons of uncertainty.

I've watched people I love walk through things I desperately wished I could change for them.

I've prayed prayers that weren't answered the way—or in the timing—I wanted.

And there are still things in my life today where I may not understand what God is doing.

But there is something I know with certainty:

He has never failed us.

Maybe that's true for you too.

Perhaps you're waiting for an answer.

Maybe you're grieving someone you love.

Maybe you've received news you never expected.

Perhaps your marriage, family, health, career, finances, or future look completely different from what you once imagined.

And maybe someone has told you to “just trust God,” as though trusting Him means you shouldn't be sad, afraid, disappointed, tired, or confused.

I've learned something along the way:

Faith doesn't mean pretending the hard things aren't hard.

I trusted God sitting in that hotel room.

It was still hard.

I believed He was with us.

I still had questions.

But something else happened when I heard those words in my heart—that someday I would look back and see this as one of the best things that ever happened to me.

As crazy as it may sound, I actually became excited to see what God was going to do.

I didn't know how He was going to do it.

I didn't know where He was going to take us.

I certainly didn't know that our journey would eventually stretch from Louisiana to California and then all the way back across the country to the Carolinas.

But I knew Him.

And I knew He was faithful.

Faith wasn't having the answers.

Faith was trusting the One who did.

Looking Back Helps Me Look Forward

Today, Katrina gives me something I didn't have before Katrina.

A place to look back.

When I'm walking through something now that I don't understand, I can remember that hotel room.

I can remember a time when I couldn't see California.

I couldn't see the Carolinas.

I couldn't see the home we would eventually build here.

I couldn't see the people we would meet.

I couldn't see the opportunities ahead.

I couldn't see any of it.

But God could.

That doesn't mean every painful situation will eventually make sense to us. And I would never tell someone walking through heartbreak that someday they will understand exactly why it happened.

Sometimes we may never know this side of heaven.

But I have lived long enough now to know this:

I don't have to see what God is doing to trust that He is still at work.

And neither do you.

A Whisper for Your Heart

Maybe today you're sitting in your own version of that hotel room.

Something has happened that wasn't part of the plan.

You're looking at what was, what is, and what you thought would be—and you cannot figure out how the pieces could possibly fit together.

You don't need to figure out the entire journey today.

You only need enough faith for the next step.

Twenty-one years ago, I couldn't see California from that hotel room.

I couldn't see the Carolinas.

I couldn't see the life ahead of us.

At that moment, I could mostly see what we had lost.

But God could see farther than I could.

And friend, He can see farther than you can today too.

So if life doesn't look anything like you thought it would right now, hold on.

Not to the promise that everything will turn out exactly the way you want.

Hold on to Him.

The road may look different.

The plan may have changed.

The next chapter may be one you never expected.

But you are not walking into it alone.

God can already see what you can't.

Lord, when we cannot see what comes next, help us trust You with what we cannot understand. Quiet the what-ifs in our hearts and replace them with the promises of Your Word. Give us faith for today's step and remind us that You can see far beyond what we can see. Amen.

DC – Whispers of the Heart A quiet place for encouragement, faith, hope, and gentle reminders of God's love.