He gives and He takes away


I read a great article the other day about how we want to know the reason why stuff happens because that will somehow heal the pain or make sense of it all. But the whole point of the article was that maybe there isn’t any answer other than God saying to trust Him. Heavy stuff right there.

Today some sweet, sweet friends of ours said goodbye to their precious  baby girl. My heart breaks for them. My heart breaks because death was never God’s intention on this earth but here we are, in a broken world with death surrounding us. Seeing them go through this has can only solidify that there is a loving, loving Father who cares, who is good, who is trustworthy. They don’t deny that their hearts are breaking or that the pain isn’t searing. But faith is believing in what you cannot see. Their faith is real.

And right now, there are no words to say to them to ease this pain or bring comfort. The comfort they need only comes from the One whom their little girl is with (and we praise with them that God has made her little body whole again!).

The only purpose of this blog post today is not to tell you to hold your loved ones close in light of deep loss. It is to say that Jesus is real. His birth, death, and resurrection were real. God’s love is real. God gave His son for you, for me, for their sweet child. And even when we face unspeakable sadness or trials, God is there and He cares. This life is but a blip in eternity and He wants you to follow Him now even when it just doesn’t make sense. Because one day with God is better than a thousand elsewhere.


Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal
Thy Word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel

But oh! When gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call Thee mine
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline
Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust
And still my soul would cleave to Thee
Though prostrate in the dust

Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face,
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace,
Be deaf when I complain?
No still the ear of sovereign grace,
Attends the mourner’s prayer
Oh may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there

Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet,
Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet




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