Jesus Didn't Cling to Comfort... He Clung to the Cross

There are moments in life when everything familiar is stripped away, and you’re left with a simple, unsettling question: Is God enough? Not in theory. Not in a sermon answer. But in real life—when plans collapse, comfort disappears, and control is gone.

I think about hurricanes hitting places like Jamaica. Winds tearing through homes. Power gone. Communication cut off. Families huddled together, unsure of what the next hour will bring. In those moments, no one is worried about staying connected to the world. The illusion of control evaporates. What remains is fear, vulnerability—and often, prayer.

What’s striking is that when people are most “unplugged” from the world, God often feels the closest.

We don’t like that idea. We prefer God plus stability. God plus comfort. God plus answers. But Scripture repeatedly shows a God who allows His people to lose everything else so they can discover that He alone is sufficient. Not because He is cruel—but because He loves us too much to let us mistake His gifts for His presence.

When hurricanes hit, no one asks if God is still near because the lights are off. No one assumes He’s disconnected because systems failed. If anything, people cry out louder. Desperation has a way of clarifying what actually matters. Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” Not the distracted. Not the self-sufficient. The broken.

Jesus didn’t cling to comfort. He stepped into hunger, exhaustion, rejection, and eventually the cross. And in the garden of Gethsemane—when everything was about to be taken from Him—He didn’t reach for escape. He surrendered. “Not my will, but Yours be done.” That’s not spiritual poetry. That’s trust forged in pressure.

We often think being unplugged means being disconnected—from people, from rhythm, from purpose. But maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe when the noise fades, we finally notice how thin our faith has become. Maybe we realize how much we rely on stability to feel close to God, rather than relying on God Himself.

The believers in Scripture didn’t encounter God most powerfully in comfort zones. They met Him in deserts, prisons, storms, and exile. Paul didn’t say, “I know God when life is smooth.” He said, “I want to know Christ… and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings” (Philippians 3:10).

That’s uncomfortable. But it’s real.

So when life forces you to unplug—when plans fall apart, when security shakes, when the storm hits—don’t assume God has stepped back. It may be the very moment He’s drawing closest. Not to give easy answers, but to give Himself.

Because when everything else is gone, and God is still there, you discover something terrifying and beautiful: He’s always been enough.