When tragedy strikes

Just a few days ago, tragedy struck when an Air India flight crashed. None but one of the passengers survived. In a matter of moments, lifetimes of dreams turned to ash. It’s a brutal and sobering reminder that life is terrifyingly fragile. Everything we build, everything we hope for, everything we love—can vanish in an instant.

I saw the following post on Facebook today.

"Pratik Joshi had been living in London for the past six years. A software professional, he had long dreamed of building a better future abroad for his wife and their three young children, who were staying back in India.

After years of planning, paperwork, and patience, that dream was finally coming true. Just two days ago, his wife, Dr. Komi Vyas, a medical professional, resigned from her job in India. The bags were packed, the goodbyes said, the future waiting.

This morning, all five of them, filled with hope, excitement, and plans, boarded Air India flight 171 to London. Clicked this selfie, sent it to relatives. A one-way journey to begin a new life.

But they never made it. The plane crashed. None of them survived.

In a matter of moments, a lifetime of dreams turned to ash. A brutal reminder, life is terrifyingly fragile. Everything you build, everything you hope for, everything you love, it all hangs by a thread. So while you can, live, love, and don’t wait for happiness to start tomorrow."

My heart goes out to the families and friends of those who were lost. Their grief must be immeasurable, and words feel utterly inadequate.

This tragedy brought back painful memories of my own loss—my brother and his wife, who died while serving the Lord in difficult places. We had prayed for their protection. They did what most Christians dare not do. We believed for a long life of ministry. But He took them away too soon.

Why?

Sometimes, we just don’t have an answer. Sometimes heaven is silent. And in those moments, we hold on to what we do know: that God is still good, and His promises are still true. As the Apostle Paul reminds us, “Now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully…” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Until that day, we live by faith. We mourn, but not without hope. We weep, but not without comfort.

We also remember that our time here is short. So while we can—let us live fully, love deeply, forgive quickly, and serve faithfully. As James writes, “You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14).

But the mist is not the end of the story. For those in Christ, there is more—so much more. Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (John 11:25).

So we grieve, we trust, and we keep walking—toward the day when every tear will be wiped away, and every loss swallowed up by life eternal.

Psalm 34:18 – “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

2 Corinthians 4:16–18 – “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”

Heavenly Father,

In moments like this, when grief hangs heavy and answers feel distant, we turn to You—our refuge and strength. You are near to the brokenhearted, and You gather every tear we cry.

We lift up the families and friends who have lost loved ones in the Air India crash. Surround them with Your peace that passes all understanding. Uphold them with Your everlasting arms.

Lord, we also bring before You our own sorrows and questions. In our pain, help us to cling to Your promises. In our weakness, may Your strength be made perfect.

Teach us to number our days, to live with purpose, to love well, and to anchor our hope in eternity. Thank You that in Christ, death is not the end—and that one day, every loss will be redeemed.

Until that day, help us walk by faith and not by sight.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.