Jesus came to be God with us—on both the starry night in Bethlehem and in the loneliness of a quarantined home. On a sunny Galilean hillside and in crowded grocery store lines.
We often don’t know what to say or do, because no words or deeds will erase the pain or undo the loss.
“Is Zach going to be okay?” Soren’s vocal cords registered enough tension for all of us. Sure he is lay on the tip of my tongue. Why wouldn’t Zach be okay? I couldn’t nudge the words any farther.
God will use grief to shape them, and draw them closer to himself. You cannot fix or take away their pain. But you can sit beside them as they cry or listen while they talk about their loss.
This post is by guest author, Francine Rivers, and was originally published on Crosswalk.
Some women are able to birth a house full of kids without a single death, while others face the trauma of recurrent losses.
Written by Lisa Beamer, wife of the late Todd Beamer, in her book, Let’s Roll.
Lately I’ve been trying to look at the bigger picture, to discover what I’m supposed to learn from all this.
