A Beam of Hope
An Encounter with God in the Wild
"The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it"
I John 1:5
"Life doesn’t always go the way we planned – in fact it rarely does. But sometimes, the detours are where we find God’s light breaking through."
The Unexpected Crossing
October 9, 2025, 9:00 a.m.
This day started like every other day, with great hope and expectation.
My wife and I were a few weeks into a month-long RV journey to the Pacific Northwest. We had just spent several golden autumn days hiking the trails of the Columbia River Gorge, chasing waterfalls and sunlight.
As we broke camp to head toward Cannon Beach and the Pacific Ocean, we did what we did every day — bowing our heads in prayer; asking God to show us more of His wonders, to keep us safe, and to bless our family back home.
Ten minutes into our drive, on a bright sunny morning on a highway near Stevenson, Washington, a deer suddenly leapt from the forest — straight into our path. There was no time to react. Impact. A blur of motion. Then stillness. Though we were safe, we stood by the roadside shaken, next to crumbled sheetmetal and plans. Thoughts were rolling through my mind.
Didn’t God hear our prayers? Why us? Why now?
A couple hours later, as we limped our damaged RV into a body shop off the beaten path in Portland, Oregon, and shared our misfortunes, God sent a messenger in work boots. The owner, Pete, listened to our story, then said gently,
“Who knows what greater disaster God was protecting you from through this mishap?”
His words landed like truth wrapped in kindness — a reminder that what feels like a harmful disruption might be grace in disguise.
“What feels like a harmful disruption might be grace in disguise"
We left the body shop with plans to return to complete the repairs when the parts came in, and continued on to our intended destination in Cannon Beach, Oregon.
Later that day we received an urgent prayer request from back home where a dear friend had fallen off a roof in a work accident, and was clinging to life. As we prayed for a miracle, we were reminded how quickly life can change, and how minor our setback felt like in comparison.
That day the coastal weather mirrored our emotions — dark gray skies, restless waves, squalls of rain. Yet, as evening fell, we felt like we needed to take a walk to the beach near Haystack Rock, and maybe capture a few moody photos.
Then it happened.
Through a thick ceiling of clouds, a single opening appeared — and a beam of light poured down over the ocean. It was the kind of light that makes you stop and breathe differently. I quickly set up my tripod, expecting it to vanish in seconds. But the beam stayed. Twenty minutes of steady, radiant brilliance breaking through the storm.
Later we learned that our friend was undergoing emergency brain surgery at that very moment.
I couldn’t help but feel that this unexplainable beam of light was a reminder — God’s light still breaks through the darkest clouds. His presence is not limited by circumstances, nor His power by despair. Even in our fear, He gives glimpses of hope — enough to steady our hearts until the morning comes.
Reflection
When I look back on that moment, I realize Jesus is always teaching me – even in tragedies, roadside mishaps, and stormy skies – how to live my life as He would if He were me. To pause. To trust. To see every delay, every detour, even life’s hardest moments, as a beam of light and an opportunity to learn His rhythm of grace.
Sometimes His answers come through the quiet faith of a stranger named Pete. Sometimes it comes through a hole in the clouds. Always through His unfailing presence.
“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.” — Psalm 30:5
