For from his fullness we have all received grace upon grace – John 1:16
I'm a wife, a mom of two, and a strong believer in the power of prayer and caffeine. My passion is to encourage others to fall in love with Jesus over and over again by sharing reminders of his undeserved, unmerited, and unending grace.
Right now, we are all facing the same storm. We might be in different boats—some are in catamarans while some are in rowboats—but we are all aware of the angry skies and dark waters surrounding us.
The thing about boats is that they float on the water. Whether a catamaran or a rowboat, they can be completely surrounded and still stay above the waves. They don’t sink until the water gets inside them.
You say that all I have to do is call to You, and You will tell me things I do not know.
So, tell me: Where are You?
I can’t read the news anymore. There’s so much pain in the world right now, and I can’t help but wonder—where is Your light? You say You have overcome the world, but we still have to live in it, and it is so very broken. I tell my children that You are a good and loving God who will protect them. But then, in the same breath, I have to explain why they aren’t allowed to see their friends or be near their grandparents.
I found myself in Mark 5 this morning, reading about Jesus raising the young girl from the dead. All He had to do was take her by the hand and say, “Little girl—get up!” and immediately, she stood up and began to walk around.
Maybe you know that Jesus wants to resurrect you from something—He’s telling you to get up—but you don’t see the fruit.
If you back up a few verses, notice what Jesus did right before He healed the girl: He pruned. When He told the crowd that she was not dead but asleep, they laughed at Him. So He told them to get out. Scripture says He put them all outside before going upstairs with the child’s mother, father, and the disciples who were with Him. Then He revived the girl.
Not from God, and not from each other. That wasn’t the plan God had for His creation.
We weren’t supposed to lose our mothers, fathers, children, spouses, siblings, or friends. God never wanted us to carry that kind of grief. Our hearts know it—that’s why there is something in us that cries out, “This isn’t right,” when our loved ones are stolen from us. And as we struggle with our sorrow, sometimes we can’t help but wonder how a good God could let us suffer.