Tragedy is Real. So is Hope.

Two weeks ago, our family suffered a tragic loss.

Our sister Jordan and her three beautiful children lost their husband and father, Chris, age thirty-six, in a snow accident.

When we first got the call that something had happened, we did not know how severe it was. We quickly packed up and began what felt like the longest two hour drive of our lives, navigating icy roads and blinding snow. Every mile felt heavy.

Then we got the call. My first thought was how was this possible? We have already been marked by tragedy. Surely this will not happen again. Surely this cannot be real. And yet, it was. I was not angry at God for taking so many fathers from our lives. But I cannot tell you that I understand it.

Grayson lost his dad at eleven. My dad suddenly passed away from a heart attack three years ago. And now we are watching three precious children say goodbye to their father.

That is a weight I cannot fully put into words.

As I wrestled with all of it days later, my phone dinged. A message on WhatsApp. It was a blessing from George and Solomon in Kenya praying over our family. My heart softened.

They know tragedy.

They have seen it in the faces of the communities they serve. In 2024, just two weeks before we left for Kenya, an entire village was devastated by a mudslide in the middle of the night. No family was spared. Every household lost a child or a parent.

We saw despair on faces firsthand. We held hands with mothers who had buried children. We stood with fathers who had lost everything. The grief was not abstract. It was right in front of us. Solomon held Faith as her mother died in childbirth, leaving nine children behind.

Tragedy is not isolated to one family. It is not isolated to one country.

We live in a broken world. And yet.

I watched Jordan stand in front of a packed church and say something I will carry with me forever.

"Yes, it ended in tragedy. But I see You, God. You gave me that. You knew the number of his days. You work all things for good for those who seek You. You gave us more time than we have had in a long time. You gave us memories in the snow. You shielded the children. You shielded me. You protected him. All I see in this is the goodness of God. Yes, this was a tragedy. And yes, I lost the love of my life. But I could never deny the goodness of God through this."

I cling to those words. I cling to the goodness of God.

Chris was larger than life. He was the kind of man who always stopped to help anyone who needed it. He always went above and beyond, not for recognition, but because it was simply who he was. He was the hands and feet of Jesus. He saw the least of these and met them right where they were.

Can we all learn to serve like that?

Can we all learn to love like that?

Can we learn from Jordan that when faced with unimaginable grief, we can still say I trust You, God? You are sovereign. You are good.

Radiant Hope was never built from a place of perfection. It was born from loss. From healing. From seeing suffering both here and across the world and choosing to respond with love anyway.

Tragedy is real. Grief is real.

But so is hope.

And today, even through tears, I choose to cling to the goodness of God.

Will you join us in praying for Jordan, Ryker, Wesley, and Harbin in the days ahead?

Pray that they would cling to the promise of Romans 8:28, that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

- Scottlyn