God does everything on purpose. But don’t you wonder sometimes if He really meant to do all the awful things He does?
Like let your dad get cancer. Like let your son die at 11 years young. Like forget to form half of your baby’s heart.
I’m weary. I’m exhausted. I live with constant, nagging, pestering worry over when Annie’s heart will finally fail. If it will finally fail. If it will ever “declare itself” once and for all, as her cardiologist says.
I find comfort, though, in knowing that all the awful details are known by the One who can actually do something about them. I don’t know if He will choose to. But that’s up to Him.
I know that whatever He does or doesn’t choose to do is informed with love and compassion for those of us wondering what in the world He could be doing in the midst of all this pain.
Sometimes it’s excruciatingly painful to enjoy that belly laugh today that I know could be gone tomorrow. But all the time it’d be more painful not to. Sometimes it’s excruciatingly painful to imagine that God really does everything on purpose. But all the time it’d be more painful not to.
“No real Christian believes that”…but I do.