Psalm 74:1a, 11 (MSG); John 3:16 (NIV); Matthew 1:18-25 (NIV)

When I close my eyes at night, their faces haunt me.  The little children clutching their stuffed animals.  The women with tears in their eyes, with fears in their eyes, carrying small suitcases with a lifetime of memories left behind.  The civilians carrying automatic weapons, prepared to defend their homeland. The doctors and EMTS trying to treat injured patients by flashlight because there is no electricity.  The bodies laid out in the streets and abandoned because it is too dangerous to go out and bury them.  Bodies of women and men, children and infants.  The faces of those who are tasked with lowering the dead into mass graves.  And the faces of those who are defiantly resisting the invaders.  And most of all, the face of President Zelensky, earnestly pleading with the world for the help that he needs to try and save his nation.  I am amazed at his courage and strength, when he could have chosen to leave his country and keep himself and his family safe.  Instead, he stayed and took on the role of leader and commander in chief by stepping out of any kind of safety net and into the line of fire.

There are other images that come into my mind as I try to go to sleep.  The bombed-out city squares and hospitals, apartment buildings and playgrounds, theaters and soccer fields.  The theater in Mariupol with the word “CHILDREN” painted in bold letters on the ground on both sides of the building, clearly marking it as a shelter for women and children, but not protecting it from being blown up with hundreds of civilians inside on Wednesday.  That city has been suffering horribly, under siege and blockaded by the Russians, running out of food and water.  There are two AP journalists there, both Ukrainian, and their photographs have been a record of the utter destruction that has taken place.  It was their images of the bombed maternity hospital that were shown to the world, the only proof of what happened.  In Lviv there was a missile strike on Friday, in this city only 43 miles from the Polish border.  The city is an important one for many reasons:  it is ground zero for displaced persons who are trying to make their way out of Ukraine; it is a weapons supply route; and it is a base for embassies and media outlets that fled from Kyiv. 

The photographers and journalists who are reporting on the war are among the heroes, in my opinion, risking their lives to bring the story to us, the real story, to counter the lies that are being told by Vladimir Putin.  Some of them have been killed doing their jobs.  Marcus Yam, a photographer for the L.A. Times, says that his photos show “the methodical destruction of a country … the world needs to see the horrors of this violent chaos.”  And Heidi Levine, who is a 30-year veteran photographer in war zones, including Iraq and Syria, spoke to a CNN reporter and said, “How could this be happening in 2022?  It just feels like we have learned absolutely nothing from history.”  She has been waking up with nightmares from all that she has seen.  She said, “I even saw a cemetery where the graves were destroyed from the shelling.  So even the dead are not allowed to rest in peace here.”

I see all of this, and I have questions.  Many questions.  Why aren’t the Western nations doing more to defend Ukraine?  How can we allow the destruction of this democratic nation that was simply living its life when it was attacked for no reason?  And the deeper questions.  How could God allow this to go on?   Where is God in all of this?  Where is God when you need him?

I read Psalm 74 last week as one of the devotional passages in my schedule, and I’ve been reading from The Message paraphrase of the scriptures.  And the words just jumped off the page at me:  You walked off and left us, and never looked back.  God, how could you do that? … Why don’t you do something?  How long are you going to sit there with your hands folded in your lap?  The writer was clearly facing enemies who were getting the best of him and wanted to know why God had abandoned him and his people.  He wanted to know why God wasn’t doing something to help them.  I would imagine that every person – every group of people or nation – that has suffered has felt that way to one degree or another.  And I would imagine that some people in Ukraine have been asking the same kinds of questions.  Where is God?  How could God allow this to happen to us?  Why didn’t God protect us?  Where is God when you need him?

We are given the answer in the scriptures.  God is with us in the suffering.  God is not off at a distance watching it happen.  God is right here with us, walking with us through it, experiencing it with us, feeling it with us, giving us the strength to bear up under it.  How do I know that?  Let me try to explain what I mean.

We are told in John 3:16 that God gave his one and only Son.  God sent Jesus into the world.  In some way that I cannot understand or explain, when Jesus came into the world he was both fully human and fully divine.  God put on human skin and became one of us.  Jesus was vulnerable.  Jesus was dependent.  Jesus was a living, breathing creature, just like us in every way.  He felt all the feelings we feel.  He knew what it was like to be hot and cold, tired and energized.  He was happy and sad and even angry on occasion.  Jesus knew what it meant to love and be loved in return.  He had friends and he had enemies.  Jesus experienced life as we experience life; he knew it all.  And he even knew physical pain and suffering when he endured the forty lashes and then the crucifixion. 

And we are told in Matthew 1 that Jesus was the fulfillment of the prophecy that one would be born who would be Immanuel, or God with us.  Jesus is God with us.  Yes, Jesus was human and is human and feels all of our human feelings and knows all of our human weaknesses.  But Jesus was and is God and embodies the power and authority and creativity and compassion and grace and mercy and boundlessness of God.  Jesus brings the resources of God with him as he walks with us through times of suffering.  And he offers them to us.  He heals us.  He empowers us.  He forgives us.  He delivers us.  He enables us to endure what we think will destroy us. 

To know that we are not alone in times of our greatest need and our greatest pain is an amazing source of encouragement.  And to know that it is God who is with us is an even greater comfort.  I believe – I know – that God was with those women who were in the maternity hospital that was bombed, and that God was with the woman whose baby died during birth and who also died.  I believe that God was with those civilians in the theater in Mariupol who were killed when it was destroyed.  I believe that God holds in his arms those children and babies who have died.  I know that God is with the millions of refugees, people who have taken so little of the stuff of their lives with them as they fled from the destruction hurled at them by a brutal enemy.  I know that God is with those civilian soldiers who have made a commitment to defend their homeland against an invader.  I believe that God is with the people of Mariupol who are besieged and running out of food and water.  And I know that God is with President Zelensky as he stands up to face a stronger and better equipped enemy force.

Do you know that God is with you, too?  Do you believe that Jesus walks with you every day?  Not only when you are suffering, but when life is going well?  God loves you so much that he sent his one and only Son into this world, to become one of us.  Jesus understands us, he knows what it’s like to be human.  And we can turn to him – to God with us – to Immanuel – whenever we need him, and he will be there.  Where is God when you need him?  God is with you.  That is a promise.