Sunday, September 27, 2026From the news

Wings of Grace: Refuge in Crisis and Renewal in Weakness

Captain Sullenberger's heroic landing on the Hudson and his steadfast facing of Alzheimer's invite us to rest in God's refuge during life's sudden storms and His inward renewal amid bodily decline.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. (NIV)

Psalm 46:1-3

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. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (NIV)

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Dear friend, perhaps you've had one of those weeks where the ground feels unsteady beneath you—a diagnosis that shakes your world, a sudden loss that leaves you breathless, or just the quiet ache of years piling up. Let's sit together this morning with the story of Captain Chesley 'Sully' Sullenberger, whose life reminds us so tenderly of God's nearness in our most vulnerable moments.

On January 15, 2009, Sully was piloting US Airways Flight 1549 out of LaGuardia, bound for Charlotte with 155 souls aboard. Mere minutes after takeoff, a flock of birds collided with the engines, silencing both in a terrifying hush. No runway in sight, no power to climb. In that heart-stopping crisis, Sully made the impossible choice: glide the Airbus onto the icy Hudson River. All survived—the 'Miracle on the Hudson.' Seventeen years later, at 75, he's inducted into the National Aviation Hall of Fame, joining astronauts and pioneers. Yet this honor comes shadowed by his recent Alzheimer's diagnosis, shared openly to encourage others living in its silence.

Sully spoke from his video link at the Washington ceremony, humbly noting his career spanned far more than one flight—a lifetime chasing the dream of flight since boyhood, serving in the Air Force, pouring love into his work. But now, this disease challenges him anew. He shared the shock, the anger, the 'why me?' echoing in his heart. His wife, Lorrie, calls it no character flaw, just a thief in the night, urging open talk so families step from shadows. In a community making the best of a bad situation, Sully chooses service still: speaking up for the 7.4 million over 65 facing Alzheimer's, three-quarters of them his age or older.

Oh, beloved, doesn't this mirror our own journeys? Sudden bird strikes—those unexpected blows that rob our thrust, leaving us gliding toward unknown waters. Or the slow wasting of years, bodies betraying the dreams we chased so faithfully. Take heart; the Scriptures whisper consolation right into these pains. Hear the psalmist in Psalm 46:1-3: 'God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.'

Just as Sully held steady amid the roar, God invites us to find refuge not in our skill or strength, but in Him—the ever-present help when engines fail and horizons blur. No fear, friend. The earth may give way, waters foam like the Hudson's chill waves, but He is our safe harbor. Sully's calm wasn't mere training; it echoes the peace of those anchored in the Lord who calmed Galilee's storm. Let us remember: in Jesus Christ, our refuge stands unshaken.

And for the long fade of Alzheimer's, the Apostle Paul offers balm in 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. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.'

Sully's lifetime wasn't one flight, nor ours defined by one diagnosis. Outwardly wasting? Yes, bodies falter, memories slip like engines starved of fuel. Yet inwardly, by grace through faith in Christ, we are renewed daily. His power rests perfect in our weakness, turning troubles into eternal weight of glory. Sully speaks up, serving still—may we too, fixing eyes on the unseen hope of resurrection life.

Today, whatever your Hudson or hidden thief, rest in this: God's mercy cradles you. When shock and anger rise, whisper Jesus' name; His grace suffices. Let Scripture center your heart—read these verses aloud, let them sink deep. Walk in practical discipleship: share your burdens openly, as Sully does, pointing others to Christ's comfort. You're not alone; the One who parted seas and raises the dead holds your flight steady. In Him, every landing is miraculous, every weakness a canvas for glory. Take heart, dear one—His presence is your strength, His renewal your daily dawn.