Just some days ago, no matter where we might be located across the U.S., our news was giving warnings of impending snow and ice. And as always happens in those moments, rightfully so, the bread and milk, as well as other survival items, began disappearing from shelves. Even here in East Tennessee we watched as grocery aisles emptied quickly. Friends and colleagues in other regions, particularly Middle Tennessee and North Mississippi, have shared stories of enduring freezing temperatures and power outages, trying their best to wear a smile through it all. Some might chuckle at this ritual of storm-prepping, but as a Hurricane Katrina survivor, I completely understand. Whether it’s snow, flood, or drought, you and I both know that uneasy feeling when nature reminds us of our limits. For some, the storm isn’t in the weather forecast but in daily life itself, paying bills, feeling overlooked, dealing with loss, or trying to keep showing kindness in a world that doesn’t always value it. Sooner or later, life finds us in those places where we feel unseen, unheard, and forgotten.
So, what do we do when we feel unheard, forgotten, or lost? Or just as deeply, how do we respond to those around us who are? For that, we turn, as we so often should, to the words of Jesus.
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
—Matthew 5:1–121
There are storms all around us, some seen, some hidden. For one neighbor, it’s a cancer diagnosis; for another, it’s a broken relationship or uncertainty about how to feed their family. The words from Matthew 5 are no ancient relic, they’re fresh water for weary souls. These words of blessing meet us right where we are. As Robert E. Webber wrote, “Jesus teaches his disciples and us to turn the common vision of the world upside down… the poor, the oppressed, the downtrodden, the weak, and the persecuted have a special place in Jesus’ heart because they know what it means to suffer.”2 The Beatitudes were spoken to humans just like us, ordinary people facing extraordinary challenges. That’s what makes them so timeless.
To be blessed, Jesus seems to suggest, is not necessarily to be comfortable or carefree. According to W.E. Vine, blessing “connotes the state of prosperity or happiness that comes when a superior bestows his favor.”3 The One bestowing this favor is God Himself. So even when life feels stripped down to bare shelves and cold nights, the astonishing truth is that the favor of God still rests on His people. As Matthew Henry4 reminds us, “Though perhaps they are not immediately comforted, yet plentiful provision is made for their comfort; light is sown for them; and in heaven, it is certain, they shall be comforted.”
What being “blessed” looks like will vary from person to person, but Jesus gives us assurance that blessing is not always about ease, sometimes it’s about endurance, trust, and unseen grace. He calls the broken and the peacemaker “blessed,” not because their pain disappears, but because their pain is seen, and their story is sacred. J.I. Packer helps us glimpse what is to come: “The doctrine of adoption tells us that the experience of heaven will be of a family gathering… ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.’”5 The promise of heaven, of belonging, is not empty, it’s the family table of grace prepared for all who walk by faith amid the storm.
This week, maybe take time to check on those around you. Even those who appear to have it all together might feel quietly forgotten. Sometimes, a kind word, a shared meal, or a simple text can remind someone that they are not alone. These small acts of mercy echo the very heart of the Beatitudes, living the blessing we’ve received by being a blessing to another.
May you be reminded today that you are seen, heard, and deeply loved by the One who gave His life for you. You are not forgotten. You are not unseen. The favor of heaven is upon you, and that is a blessing no storm can take away.
- Revised Common Lectionary: February 1, 2026 ↩︎
- Robert E. Webber, Ancient-Future Time: Forming Spirituality through the Christian Year (Baker Books, 2004), 86. ↩︎
- W.E. Vine, Vine’s Complete Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Words (Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1996), 19. ↩︎
- Mathew Henry, A Commentary on the Whole Bible, Vol. 5 (Fleming H. Revell Company, 1706), 49. ↩︎
- J.I Packer, Knowing God (IVP Books, 1973), 218. ↩︎
Luke Gambill 