The last week has been heavy for many in our fellowship. The tragic loss of Charlie Kirk has left an ache in our hearts. Grief has a way of raising questions. Sometimes it may tempt us to explain tragedy in ways that keep God at arm’s length.
I’ve heard well-meaning Christians try to make sense of sorrow by saying, “The world is broken. Evil exists because of human disobedience. God has nothing to do with it.” I understand their intentions to defend the goodness of God. Nevertheless, in doing so, they unintentionally push Him out of the place where we need Him most — our pain.
Our God is not absent from our grief. He is not wringing His hands in Heaven, wishing things had gone differently. The God of the Bible isn’t navigating a chess game against wickedness. He remains in control even over the darkest valleys we walk through. That truth sustains hope.
A Personal Lesson in Grief
I am not writing from the sidelines of sorrow. In the past four years, Michelle and I have lost three of our parents — two of them to suicide, and one of them was due to a quickly progressing illness. Some questions consume a person when tragedy strikes. Why did this happen? Where was God? Couldn’t He have stopped this?
The answers that exclude God from the equation only deepen the pain. Dismissing the evil of this world by taking God out of the picture makes suffering meaningless. With God present, we confess that He is weaving our stories even through the tears. The valley of the shadow of death has purpose.
I met the Lord in a new way in that valley. Psalm 34:18 became more than words on a page: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” I learned that God’s nearness in grief isn’t theoretical but sustaining, life-giving and purpose-refining.
God’s Plan is Bigger
Human sin indeed brought brokenness into this world. Romans 5 makes clear that through Adam’s disobedience, death entered creation. But that’s not the whole story. Romans also tells us that through Christ’s obedience, life and righteousness abound. Our grief is not the final word.
God’s plan is bigger than our pain. Ephesians 1:11 reminds us that He works “…all things according to the counsel of His will” (ESV). Highlight the word “all” in that passage. Not some things. Not only easy things. All things. That means even the tragedies we cannot understand are under His sovereign control.
This doesn’t mean our grief disappears or that we should pretend the pain doesn’t hurt. What it does mean is that we don’t grieve without hope (I Thess. 4:13). We bring our tears, our confusion and our broken hearts to the throne of grace, trusting that our Father knows what He is doing, even when we do not.
Hold On to God in the Hard Times
Grieving well means giving yourself permission to be honest. Pretending we are not hurting doesn’t honor God. Crying out is an act of faith because it directs our sorrow toward Him.
Grieving well means pushing yourself to be around others. God gave us the church so that we could bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2).
Grieving well means embracing hope. We may not have the right answers for the present. But we do know what lies ahead in the future. The cross and the empty tomb prove that sorrow is not the end of the story. Christ has conquered death! Every tear will one day be wiped away (Rev. 21:4).
When we hold on to God in the most challenging times, we proclaim something the world desperately needs to hear: our hope is not in explanations, but in a Person. It rests in the God who is both sovereign and near, both reigning and compassionate, both holy and present in our pain.
The martyrdom of Charlie Kirk leaves us with questions and heartache. Still, it also leaves us with an opportunity to bear witness. We can show our churches, communities and the watching world what it looks like to grieve with God in sight.
The pain remains real. That’s why the hope is powerful. When the shadows lengthen, we discover that the light of Christ shines brightest.
So let us draw near to the Lord in our grief. Let us cling to His promises. Let us remind one another that though sorrow lasts for the night, joy comes in the morning.
