in God's arms

I received a really nice note from a writer I sent a note to a few weeks ago, and it couldn't have come at a better time. The mental image it brings up is comforting and peaceful, the day before I need it most, and I wanted to post it here hoping someone else would find it so also. Here's the link to the article I read that day ... if it doesn't go straight to it, the title is "A Whisper". http://www.tonywoodlief.com/archives/week_2006_10_15.html#001125

On 10/18/06, Walker, Julie (Atlanta)
JWalker2@> wrote: Tony,I've been reading your blog since you started your site, and just read it again for the first time in about a year. And it was the Thank You blog. Perhaps God's hand is evident in my life after all ... I'm still not there - where I can be anything but angry with God and the world, the loss of my daughter is too recent. But I'm getting the sense that I might get there someday, and reading that someone else has made it through helps ... it makes the path there seem like a real possibility instead of a pipe dream. Thank YOU.

Dear Julie,
Thank you for writing to me. I'll pray that you'll get there. It doesn't make sense, that we should bury our children. It doesn't make sense, and it isn't fair, and often the burden is so much that it's all we can do to get out of bed in the morning. I still don't know how God can allow it. The place I got to was an understanding that he, who gave up his own child to death, doesn't let our little ones die lightly. And he takes them up into his arms, where there is no more suffering. We would rather they be with us, but at least there is this mercy, that they know nothing of heartache or pain.

People who haven't been scarred so deeply like to imagine that God makes everything work out of the best, in our lifetimes. But I don't think there is ever an answer in the face of something like this, where if we were to know it we would say: "Aha! Now I see why you let my child die. It all makes perfect sense now." Perhaps there is some purpose, but it is not for us to know, nor would we care. We can only take solace in the assurance that this present suffering will end, and there will be a reunion, and then the very memory of the heartache we feel here will be blotted out, and all things will be right again.

Blessings to you,