Have you ever found yourself in the midst of a crisis? I know I have. I think back to when a 13-year-old me watched my mom killed in a freak accident. I was crushed! I didn’t have a relationship with God then, but even then, He had His hand on me. I had several friends who came alongside me and helped me through the grief, the anger, the loneliness, and the aimlessness that followed. I didn’t make it easy for them. I was a horrible person to be around during that time, but they stuck with me, and, when I had come out the other side, I asked them about why they had been there by my side. They started telling me about God. They invited me to a youth group meeting and started me on a path that led to my baptism in a small mountain stream in Dahlonega, GA about a year later. I discovered that God had been beside me the whole time and had placed my friends right there because He knew that was exactly what I needed.

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Every one of us, at some point, faces a disaster—something that shakes the ground beneath our feet. It might be a financial collapse, a health crisis, a relationship falling apart, or even the consequences of our own choices. When those moments come, the natural question arises: “Where is God in all this?”

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Isaiah 43:2 was written to a people who had seen disaster up close. Israel had been exiled from their land, their cities destroyed, their identity shaken. They were surrounded by reminders of failure and judgment. And yet, in the middle of that devastation, God doesn’t say, “You got what you deserved.” Instead, He says, “I will be with you.” That’s the heartbeat of this verse—and the heartbeat of the gospel: God runs toward disasters, not away from them. Notice, the promise isn’t if you go through deep waters or fire, but when. Life will bring floods and flames. Pain and loss are part of the human experience. But the difference for those who belong to God is this: you don’t walk through it alone.

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When we read “I will be with you,” it’s more than comfort—it’s covenant. God is saying, “I am committed to you, even in the chaos. My presence is stronger than your storm.” It’s easy to believe that God is with us when life is calm and things make sense. But real trust is forged in the floodwaters. It’s built when we choose to believe that God is still good, still present, and still working—even when everything looks like it’s falling apart.  

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And here’s the amazing thing: God’s heart in disaster is always restoration. He doesn’t just show up to rescue us; He shows up to rebuild us. The same God who parts the sea and quenches the flames is the One who brings beauty out of ashes. His purpose in the storm is not to destroy us but to refine us—to draw us closer to Him, to deepen our dependence, and to remind us of who He is. Maybe you’re walking through something right now that feels like a flood or a fire. Maybe you’ve run from God and are wondering if He still wants anything to do with you. The answer from Isaiah 43 is clear: yes. He runs toward the disaster you think disqualifies you. He meets you in the middle of your mess, not after you’ve cleaned it up. That’s what the cross proves once and for all. When humanity was at its worst—broken, rebellious, drowning in sin—God didn’t stand at a distance. He ran toward us. Jesus entered our disaster, bore our pain, and walked through the fire of judgment so that we wouldn’t have to. So, when you’re tempted to think God has abandoned you, remember the cross. Remember that the same Jesus who faced the storm, the flood, and the fire for you now walks through your storms with you. He doesn’t promise a life free of trouble—but He promises a presence that never leaves. For believers, this truth gives courage. For those still exploring faith, it’s an invitation: you don’t have to face the disasters of life—or the weight of your past—on your own. God’s heart is for you. He’s already running toward you with love, forgiveness, and restoration.

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The question is: Will you trust Him to save you?

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Trust doesn’t mean pretending the fire doesn’t burn or the water doesn’t rise. It means clinging to the One who walks beside you through it all. It means choosing to believe that He’s working for your good even when you can’t yet see the outcome. And it means resting in the promise that no disaster—external or internal—can separate you from His love.

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Reflection Questions:

• Why do you think God allows His people to go through the waters and the fire rather than avoiding them entirely?

• Are there areas of your life right now where you need to trust that God is still with you—even when you can’t feel Him?

• Whether you have put your faith in Jesus or not, what does it mean to you that God runs toward your disaster instead of away from it?  

Father, thank You for being the God who runs toward me, not away from me. Thank You that no matter what I face—the flood, the fire, or the fallout of my own mistakes—you promise to be with me. When fear tells me I’m alone, remind me that Your presence is stronger than my circumstances. When I’m tempted to run or give up, give me the courage to trust You instead. Teach me to see disaster not as the end of the story, but as the place where You begin Your work of restoration. And if I’ve wandered far from You, help me turn back and find that You’ve been running toward me all along. In Jesus’ name, Amen.