He is, perhaps, the most iconic of American inventors, the man who gave us the microphone, light bulb, talking movies, and more than 1,000 other things. But on a December night in 1914, Thomas Edison suffered a setback that might have destroyed a lesser man. A spontaneous combustion broke out in his factory, consuming every flammable item in its path. In spite of a valiant effort by firefighters, everything was destroyed. At age 67, he had lost it all.

The inventor’s 24-year-old son, Charles, stood by his father’s side as they looked over the ruins the next morning. “There is great value in disaster,” Edison told his son, “all of our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew.”

Three weeks after the fire, Thomas Edison unveiled the world’s very first phonograph.

No one wants to deal with the sudden loss of everything they’ve spent a lifetime working for. But disasters happen — just ask any of our friends and neighbors in Vilonia, or those in Alabama, or even the residents of New Orleans who still struggle to recover from hurricane Katrina. By definition, a disaster is a sudden, calamitous event, over which we have absolutely no control.

So how do you deal with the aftermath?

In that regard, we can learn a lot from the life of Job. After losing it all — his livestock, his servants, even his children — the Bible tells us, in two short verses, about his response:

“ A t this, Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fe! to the ground in worship, and said:
“N aked I came “om my mother’s womb, and naked I wi! depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
May the name of the Lord be praised.”
(Job 1:20–21)

Did you catch it? First he grieved: “Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head.” Then he worshiped. That was followed by a deliberate focus on an eternal perspective: “N aked I came “om my mother’s womb, and naked I wi! depart.” He trusted God’s sovereignty: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.” And he refused to allow bitterness to take root in his heart:

“ May the name of the Lord be praised.”

Easy? No way. Not by a long shot. Nobody would willingly choose to go through that kind of suffering — or a calamity of any sort, for that matter.

But as Edison pointed out, “thank God we can start anew” in the face of disaster. And then Job takes it a step further. Starting over means bringing one crucial, indispensable item

along on the journey: Our faith. 

He is, perhaps, the most iconic of American inventors, the man who gave us the microphone, light bulb, talking movies, and more than 1,000 other things. But on a December night in 1914, Thomas Edison suffered a setback that might have destroyed a lesser man. A spontaneous combustion broke out in his factory, consuming every flammable item in its path. In spite of a valiant effort by firefighters, everything was destroyed. At age 67, he had lost it all.

The inventor’s 24-year-old son, Charles, stood by his father’s side as they looked over the ruins the next morning. “There is great value in disaster,” Edison told his son, “all of our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew.”

Three weeks after the fire, Thomas Edison unveiled the world’s very first phonograph.

No one wants to deal with the sudden loss of everything they’ve spent a lifetime working for. But disasters happen — just ask any of our friends and neighbors in Vilonia, or those in Alabama, or even the residents of New Orleans who still struggle to recover from hurricane Katrina. By definition, a disaster is a sudden, calamitous event, over which we have absolutely no control.

So how do you deal with the aftermath?

In that regard, we can learn a lot from the life of Job. After losing it all — his livestock, his servants, even his children — the Bible tells us, in two short verses, about his response:

“ A t this, Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fe! to the ground in worship, and said:
“N aked I came “om my mother’s womb, and naked I wi! depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
May the name of the Lord be praised.”
(Job 1:20–21)

Did you catch it? First he grieved: “Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head.” Then he worshiped. That was followed by a deliberate focus on an eternal perspective: “N aked I came “om my mother’s womb, and naked I wi! depart.” He trusted God’s sovereignty: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.” And he refused to allow bitterness to take root in his heart:

“ May the name of the Lord be praised.”

Easy? No way. Not by a long shot. Nobody would willingly choose to go through that kind of suffering — or a calamity of any sort, for that matter.

But as Edison pointed out, “thank God we can start anew” in the face of disaster. And then Job takes it a step further. Starting over means bringing one crucial, indispensable item

along on the journey: Our faith.