Question marks punctuated the interior of my heart. Weeks earlier I had lost my unborn child, and in grief it seemed there were more questions than answers. Why had God given life, only to have that life end before it was born? How could this happen? Was there something I should have seen or known? Would the ache go on forever? What good could possibly come from death?
Suddenly in the silent sanctuary, my heart heard another question, one which came straight from the pages of Scripture, I knew. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?”
My questions seemed almost trivial in the light of that single, watershed question. As my mind quickly turned the pages of my own personal history and the history of mankind, I was suddenly and completely astonished by its implications.
This God I served, this One I claimed as my Savior, had showered his grace on my life and the lives of those I loved. He had been faithful. His mercy was my hope. He was just and righteous and loving, and even in this valley my heart knew he would not leave me or forsake me. He was not surprised by my loss. He had given a precious life for a few short weeks, and the enemy of my soul would not win in the end, for death is not the final word. One day, I would see my child, complete and perfect.
God is just. He is a just Judge, and in the end I would choose to trust him to “do right” in my own life and that of my unborn child. I was not forsaken. The loss was not a twist of fate or a vindictive punishment meted out by the hands of an angry Judge. No, I had been offered a chance to love someone I’d not yet seen, and I would choose to trust that God’s love for this child far eclipsed my own. And so, Abraham’s question became the answer for me. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?”
God, thank you that I can bring my questions to you without fear. Help me to trust you day by day with the big and small questions of life. Teach me your ways, and guard my heart. Amen.
Throughout This Day: Listen to songs that invite you to trust in God in the very midst of sorrow and trouble. Here is one that comes to mind for me: “Thy Will Be Done” by Hillary Scott
Photo Credit: Emmanuel Phaeton on Unsplash