Cars swept away by the sheer momentum of racing torrents. Rooftops peering out of towns now swallowed by water. Streets turned into creeks. The sight of tears on the face of Australians. Many people dead. More people missing. The Queensland Flood Crisis has been called the most widespread natural disaster in Australian History.
As I watched the Flood Crisis unfold, I was horrified by the images I witnessed. I watched with disbelief when I saw cars being swept away by the sheer force of water. My heart broke when I witnessed heroic acts of sacrifice. My heart sank when the death toll rose, and people went missing. I felt devastated when I saw the ruin to homes and livelihoods. The emotional, physical and economic scars that this crisis has left on communities will be deep for some time.
But what spiritual impact should these events have upon us? I want to suggest that this crisis should teach us this one ancient truth: We are not in control.
One reason I felt shocked as I watched my television was because this crisis was taking place in my backyard, in my beloved Australia. We, after all, live in The Lucky Country. Our freedom, our natural beauty, our mateship, and our way of life are unparalleled anywhere else in the world. We think of our nation as ‘the world’s best kept secret’. I was shaken that such devastation could take place in the sunburnt land that I love.
In fact, after I wrote that last line, I went back to read that famous poem ‘I Love a Sunburnt Country’, which was penned by Dorothy MacKellar. There was a line that particularly struck me: ‘Her beauty and her terror’. We don’t think of our country as a place of terror. But the events of recent weeks have reminded us of this truth: Whilst Australia is a place of unmatched beauty, it is also a place of untamable terror. And we cannot control it.
One of my friends is a pastor in the Presbyterian Church in Rockhampton. Pastor Mike said about the floods: ‘all we could do is sit and wait for the water to come’. I can only imagine his helplessness, knowing that destruction was looming, but being unable to avert it. For other Queenslanders who experienced flash flooding, there was no waiting or warning. There was only immediate, unstoppable, untamable terror.
The events of the past few weeks have forced us to admit our helplessness. We have experienced the unpredictable and capricious forces of nature and have been powerless to do anything. This challenges our snug human notions of order, control and comfort through science, research and technology. The floods have shown us that whilst we like to think we are in control of our world, we simply are not.
However, there is a radiance of hope which shines through the devastation of the past few weeks. There is God, and His character is compassionate. He wants the very best for us. He is powerful. In our time of need, we must look to Him for help.
This requires an attitude which self-sufficient Australians can find very difficult: humility. It is humbling to admit that you are not in control. But God responds to those who admit that they need Him and are humble, rather than the proud who think they don’t need Him. In the end, humility is not a sign of weakness, but a necessary attitude that we must embrace if we are to have a life-changing relationship with God. Indeed, the very reason that God sent His Son to die in our place is because we were helpless to do anything to save ourselves. We needed help. We needed a Saviour.
The floods have forced us to humbly admit that we are not in control. Having been humbled by the powerful floods, will we see past these events to an even more powerful God? It is time that we allow this crisis to drive us humility before God and to realize that we must depend upon Him for everything.
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, 3 though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46:1-3 NIV)
As I watched the Flood Crisis unfold, I was horrified by the images I witnessed. I watched with disbelief when I saw cars being swept away by the sheer force of water. My heart broke when I witnessed heroic acts of sacrifice. My heart sank when the death toll rose, and people went missing. I felt devastated when I saw the ruin to homes and livelihoods. The emotional, physical and economic scars that this crisis has left on communities will be deep for some time.
But what spiritual impact should these events have upon us? I want to suggest that this crisis should teach us this one ancient truth: We are not in control.
One reason I felt shocked as I watched my television was because this crisis was taking place in my backyard, in my beloved Australia. We, after all, live in The Lucky Country. Our freedom, our natural beauty, our mateship, and our way of life are unparalleled anywhere else in the world. We think of our nation as ‘the world’s best kept secret’. I was shaken that such devastation could take place in the sunburnt land that I love.
In fact, after I wrote that last line, I went back to read that famous poem ‘I Love a Sunburnt Country’, which was penned by Dorothy MacKellar. There was a line that particularly struck me: ‘Her beauty and her terror’. We don’t think of our country as a place of terror. But the events of recent weeks have reminded us of this truth: Whilst Australia is a place of unmatched beauty, it is also a place of untamable terror. And we cannot control it.
One of my friends is a pastor in the Presbyterian Church in Rockhampton. Pastor Mike said about the floods: ‘all we could do is sit and wait for the water to come’. I can only imagine his helplessness, knowing that destruction was looming, but being unable to avert it. For other Queenslanders who experienced flash flooding, there was no waiting or warning. There was only immediate, unstoppable, untamable terror.
The events of the past few weeks have forced us to admit our helplessness. We have experienced the unpredictable and capricious forces of nature and have been powerless to do anything. This challenges our snug human notions of order, control and comfort through science, research and technology. The floods have shown us that whilst we like to think we are in control of our world, we simply are not.
However, there is a radiance of hope which shines through the devastation of the past few weeks. There is God, and His character is compassionate. He wants the very best for us. He is powerful. In our time of need, we must look to Him for help.
This requires an attitude which self-sufficient Australians can find very difficult: humility. It is humbling to admit that you are not in control. But God responds to those who admit that they need Him and are humble, rather than the proud who think they don’t need Him. In the end, humility is not a sign of weakness, but a necessary attitude that we must embrace if we are to have a life-changing relationship with God. Indeed, the very reason that God sent His Son to die in our place is because we were helpless to do anything to save ourselves. We needed help. We needed a Saviour.
The floods have forced us to humbly admit that we are not in control. Having been humbled by the powerful floods, will we see past these events to an even more powerful God? It is time that we allow this crisis to drive us humility before God and to realize that we must depend upon Him for everything.
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, 3 though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46:1-3 NIV)
