Last week when I was feeding Callie, I looked down at the blanket wrapped around her tiny body knit so intricately for her by a dear friend.
For the first time I noticed every single detail and truly began to realize the time it took knit this blanket by hand.
It is not a small blanket by any accord.
Then last night, I walked into my office and put my hand on the new table my dad built for the boys and thought, I KNOW this is a sturdy table because my dad made it.
And just like when I noticed the blanket, the thought almost knocked me over: I know God is good because of the time, the effort, the thought He put into knitting us together.
I know He is good because He is my creator.
I know He is good because He created my husband. my children. my parents. my family. my friends. The list is obviously endless.
I know He is good because I look around and notice details before I would have never noticed about His creation.
“You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139:13
Yet, even when God took that time to craft each of us so carefully down to the hairs on our head, I cannot wrap my mind around why He decided it was time for my sweet friend’s baby’s life on Earth to end.
And begin in heaven.
And when tragedy strikes here on Earth, numerous things can happen.
Friendships can fall apart.
Families can break at the core.
Your soul itself can be ripped out from you.
But right here in our tiny little town, I watched a parent’s worse nightmare happen to two of my very best friends.
Yet, tragedy did not occur in our small town in a way that any of those things happened.
Instead, love abounded.
My porch filled up in two hours for the family’s out of town guests.
Empty homes were opened so that those families could stay there and not have to pay hotel fees.
Snacks were dropped off, Easter baskets, sheets, towels, cash, doughnuts, breakfast foods.
And the most beautiful of all– hands and feet circled in the front yard of a home that was broken hearted and every person broken in that house was lifted up and the Holy Spirit embraced each one of them…and us, too. Because we begged Him for His presence.
I watched a community that was also broken gather together in the name of Jesus to pray fervently for this family that had lost a tiny, tiny son, a grandson, a brand new little brother.
I watched as friends gave selflessly, loved unconditionally, and prayed incessantly.
And still, among all of these beautiful mercies, my friends are still hurting. Deeply hurting and grieving.
His grandparents are grieving.
We are grieving.
This community is grieving.
When we were in the mountains just a few short weeks ago, I laid awake one night and could not get the verse fearfully and wonderfully made off of my mind. I looked up commentaries that discussed in depth that if we began to understand we would no longer be in awe of God so no, we will not understand here on Earth.
He is so big and so good.
And through this, his beloved mother feeds me scripture and says that Job 38 is speaking to her through this–she is the one guiding us and being the example Christ clearly chose. She is the one celebrating her birthday today with empty arms wanting no present more than to hold his tiny hands.
Why God chose him to join Him in heaven, we cannot understand but today, we do know and we see that He is a Good, Good Father.
And we are so loved by Him.
Even when it hurts.