08/21/2026
❤️
I recently heard someone say that this life is the only place we will ever get to worship God in the middle of a storm.
And I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
Because one day, there will be no storms.
There will be no cancer diagnoses. No funerals. No panic attacks. No relationships falling apart. No waiting for the phone call. No lying awake at 2 a.m. wondering how everything is going to turn out.
There will be no wondering where God is.
We will be with Him. We will see Him.
Faith won’t require us to reach into the darkness and trust that Someone is there. We won’t have to remind ourselves of what is true when everything around us seems to contradict it.
We’ll know.
But here, we don’t always know.
Here, sometimes we worship while our hearts are breaking. Sometimes we say, “God, I trust You,” while every feeling inside of us is screaming that we shouldn’t. Sometimes we search for Him in the storm because, if we’re honest, He feels incredibly hard to find.
And I don’t think that means our faith is failing.
I think there is something sacred about choosing Him there.
No one wants the storm. I don’t think we need to romanticize suffering or pretend we are thankful for things that have broken our hearts.
But maybe there is something available to us inside of these places that we will never get to experience again.
Because someday, I will worship God without fear.
But today, I get to worship Him while I’m afraid.
Someday, I will worship without grief.
Today, I get to worship Him with tears in my eyes.
Someday, faith will become sight.
Today, I get to believe before I can see.
And maybe there is something uniquely precious about that kind of worship because it costs us something.
Hebrews calls it a “sacrifice of praise.” Sometimes worship really is a sacrifice. Sometimes we are saying God is good when we don’t understand what He is doing. We are choosing to trust His character when we cannot see what He is doing. We are reaching toward Him while some part of us still wants to pull away.
Peter wrote something that feels especially beautiful to me when I think about this:
“Though you have not seen him, you love him.” — 1 Peter 1:8
That’s us. We haven’t seen Him. And yet, we love Him.
We pray to Someone our eyes have never looked upon. We trust promises we have not yet seen completely fulfilled. We believe He is making all things new while living in a world where so many things are still painfully broken.
We believe before we see.
But one day, we will see.
One day, there will be no searching for Jesus in the storm because there won’t be a storm anymore. There will be no clinging to Him in the darkness because there won’t be any darkness left.
So no, I don’t want to wish for the hard things. I don’t want to pretend the storms don’t hurt.
But while I’m here, I don’t want to miss what is possible inside of them either.
I want to know what it is to worship a God I cannot see. To trust Him when I don’t understand. To reach for Him when my heart is broken. To call Him good before I know how the story ends. To love Him before I have ever seen His face.
Because I will have all of eternity to worship God in the light.
But I only have this life to worship Him in the storm.
~Kelli Bachara
