It’s strange. Sometimes, I’m inclined to believe the world almost appears more beautiful in the midst of tragedy. It’s not that tragedy is beautiful, no. Rather, amid chaos, pain, and suffering, a truth often pierces through: the world is not inherently ugly. It’s sin. Sin is what’s ugly.

If you look at the world through the lens of faith, it’s not hard to see how all of God’s creation is stamped with the beauty of his divine craftsmanship. This occurred to me after a heavy and heart wrenching week, while I was taking a walk, trying to process the events that have transpired in such a short timeframe.

The way children run around and play, laughing as they enjoy the innocence of childhood. Fathers playing with their daughters in the sandbox. Look up. The birds and the bugs sing melodies as we approach the final days of summer, and the sunrays dance through the trees that rustle from the soft breeze. The way the fresh cut grass reminds me of fond childhood memories. It’s all so beautiful. It was a short walk, but clearly one that was needed. In it, I was reminded of the beauty God has woven into the fabric of creation, a beauty that persists despite the scars of sin (Psalm 19:1).

Reflecting on my life, gratitude wells up for the countless gifts I’ve been given. I’ve wandered through Europe as a child, stood in awe of new cultures, and forged friendships that have left me doubled over in laughter, tears streaming from joy. I’ve savored exquisite meals and marveled at sunsets that paint the sky with God’s artistry. Music has stirred my soul, sparking creativity and dreams. These are not mere fleeting pleasures; they are echoes of God’s goodness, signposts of His grace (James 1:17).

Yet, beyond these earthly delights, my deepest gratitude is for the life I have in Christ. His joy, peace, and love overflow in my soul, as the psalmist declares, “My cup runs over” (Psalm 23:5). Every miracle, every answered prayer, every moment of hope restored in seemingly hopeless circumstances points to His glory. His divine hand has worked in my life and in the lives of others, turning ashes into beauty and despair into praise (Isaiah 61:3). Christ is the ultimate revelation of God’s beauty, the image of the invisible God, through whom all things were created and are held together (Colossians 1:15-17).

Even in tragedy — perhaps especially in tragedy — this truth shines brighter. Pain reminds us of our brokenness, but it also points us to our Healer (Psalm 147:3). Suffering opens the door for the Comforter to draw near (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). In our weakness, we discover that His strength is made perfect (2 Corinthians 12:9). Fear gives way to His perfect love, which casts out all fear (1 John 4:18). Every trial in my life, when viewed through the lens of eternity, has carried purpose. God is always at work, deeply and intimately involved in His creation, a constant companion who guides us through the valley and leads us to still waters (Psalm 23:2-4). As Paul reminds us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

And yet, tragedy also lays bare a harsh reality: sin remains a destructive force. The enemy prowls like a roaring lion, seeking to devour (1 Peter 5:8). Sin is the root of all that is ugly — murder, lies, manipulation, illness, fear, persecution, wars. It hardens hearts and corrupts minds, leaving devastation in its wake. But here’s the distinction that brings hope: while sin turns beautiful things ugly, God turns ugly things beautiful. He redeems what is broken, restores what is lost, and uses even the darkest moments for His good purposes (Genesis 50:20).

As I reflect on this, I’m reminded that the beauty of God’s creation and the promise of His redemption are not diminished by the presence of sin. Instead, they stand in stark contrast to it, pointing us to the One who overcame sin and death on the cross (John 16:33). The world, though marred, still reflects His glory. The pain we endure, though real, is temporary. And the hope we have in Christ is eternal, unshakable, and radiant with the promise of a new heaven and a new earth, where “there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

I don’t know the burdens you’re carrying today, dear reader. Perhaps you’re grieving in the wake of recent events, your heart heavy with loss. Maybe you’re reeling from the pain of a spouse seeking divorce, or lying in a hospital bed, grappling with a diagnosis you feared would come. You might be wrestling with loneliness, depression, or anxiety that feels like a storm raging within. Perhaps you’re overwhelmed by a relentless schedule, struggling through challenging classes, or staring at an empty bank account, wondering how you’ll make it through. Maybe you’re paralyzed by fear, uncertain about your future or what path to take. Or perhaps you look at your life and see only ugliness, as if sin’s shadow has eclipsed all light.

If any of this resonates with you, hear this: the ugliness you feel is not who you are — it’s the lingering stain of sin in a fallen world. But God? He is good. He is true. He is beautiful. And He is near to you, even now, offering hope that pierces through the darkest trials (Psalm 34:18). His love is not a fleeting sentiment or a rose-tinted illusion; it’s an unshakable reality, rooted in His unchanging nature (Hebrews 13:8). Through Christ, He invites you to see the world through a lens of eternal truth — a perspective where beauty persists, where redemption triumphs, and where every tear is seen and known (Psalm 56:8).

God doesn’t abandon us to our pain. He is the Father who runs to embrace His prodigal children (Luke 15:20), the Shepherd who carries His weary lambs (Isaiah 40:11), and the Redeemer who turns mourning into dancing (Psalm 30:11). Whatever your struggle, He offers you His peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:7) and His strength to sustain you when you feel you can’t go on (Isaiah 41:10). Your trials are not the end of your story; they are the raw material of God’s redemptive masterpiece.

For all who call upon His name, my prayer is that we cling to this unshakable truth: in the midst of tragedy, God’s beauty shines through. He is at work, crafting a story of redemption that transforms our suffering into glory (2 Corinthians 3:18). Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2), knowing with certainty that He is making all things new (Revelation 21:5). This is not wishful thinking — it’s the promise of a God who cannot lie, who holds you in His hands, and who will carry you into an eternity where every sorrow is redeemed and every tear is wiped away.