I've lost count of the number of times over the years that the wisdom of raising our family in a volatile region has been questioned. “God's will is the safest place to be,” I would reply, and my mind would jump ahead to the part of the Psalms where God reaches in to rescue His child (18:16), or to the New Testament promises that “our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Cor 4:17). I found comfort and security in these truths. 

But that was before. 

Before the mental gymnastics I did every morning deciding if my baby should go in the stroller or the sling... because if the car were walking by exploded, what would give her a better chance? 

Before choking on tear gas in my own living room. 

Before hiding in the bathroom with my crying children when an explosion shattered our world. 

Before getting frantic texts from my 12-year-old asking if we could come get her from school because there was shooting in the streets.

Now, I don't skip ahead to the end of the story, to the promise of rescue. I find it helpful to sit with the writers of Scripture in their fear. Job knew that in the end, he would see God, but that doesn't mean he didn't experience excruciating physical and emotional pain to the point he thought he would die. David knew that ultimately God would save him, but he still feared for his life while hiding from Saul. Paul knew God would use all things for His glory, but he still begged the Lord to remove the thorn in his flesh. Let's not gloss over these parts of the stories to rush to the end. 

Finding our security in God feels easy once we've been rescued, but His promise isn't only for the after – we can find our security in Him even in the midst of danger. This is where our faith is proven, and this is where we learn who has us in His hand.