Because I find myself sobbing today—For our nation, for Texas, for our schools, for our children… And for yet another family near me who just lost their child completely separate from the nation’s tragedy.

Oh, Lord, how long?

There are no words!

So I had to go back to what I know. What I wrote several years back. Grounding myself in the truth with the One who understands better than anyone.

I pray it gives someone else comfort.

When God Cried

Jesus wept!

The shortest verse in the Bible, and, yet, the offer of so much comfort.

Proof that when Christ left His glorious heaven and came to this earth as a baby, it wasn’t because this world is easy.

Sin brought pain. Death.

The whole earth groans under the ache, all waiting for Christ’s return to free us once and for all from the horrid weight—the mass—that steals life and joy and peace.

So when Jesus came as that tiny baby, He knew what He was coming to.

And when He grew to be a man, even though He knew He had a plan, had a way to rescue us, in fact WAS the Way—

He still stood at the grave of Lazarus—

and wept.

Today I went to a funeral. Of a four-year-old. My heart breaks for the parents as I know their hearts are broken. They have loved Christ. Served Him. Followed Him.

But today they buried their son.

There are no words.

And God knows! Because it is not just Jesus who weeps. But the Spirit.

“For we do not know how to pray as we should,
but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26, NASB)

I know there are others out there tonight desperate with pain. Wondering why. And how.

How it happened…How to keep going…

Come to Him.

To Jesus.

He is a big enough God to handle your questions. Your emotions. Big enough to hold you in the midst of it all. We do not always understand what He allows, but we can trust His arms.

Years ago, in the midst of a devastating loss of my own, I wrote this poem, “With Him.” I pray that in sharing it today, it will bring peace and comfort to someone who desperately needs it. For “just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ” (2 Cor. 1:5, NASB).

And if I can pray for you, please contact me. I promise to listen, to hear—and, yes, probably to cry. But you don’t have to go through this alone.

Dear Lord, we need You. Our country needs You. Turn us to You and hold us in Your arms.

With Him

For many years, I walked with Him

and talked with Him

and wept with Him.

I sang to Him,

whispered secrets to Him,

and listened to His precious words.

I leaned on Him,

and He was my Strength and Shield,

my Friend and Savior,

my Lord.

And then the bomb hit;

and in shock,

I sobbed against His chest.

Quietly, He wrapped His arms around me

and, stroking my shaking head,

let me cry.

Soon the tears dried,

just long enough for the anger to rise.

“It isn’t fair!” I screamed.

“You could have stopped it!”

And with each syllable and each word,

I pounded on His chest,

demanding a response

with the rivers flowing down my cheeks once more.

“You had the power.

You could have stopped it.

Why, God; why?!”

Quietly, He stood

and, with tears in His eyes,

let me pound.

As my anger was spent,

and my fists grew tired,

I collapsed against Him,

silent,

knowing He was my only Hope.

Quietly, He picked me up,

whispered, “I Love You,”

and, cradling me in His arms,

let me rest.

Some day I shall again walk with Him,

and talk with Him,

and weep with Him.

Some day I shall again sing to Him,

and whisper secrets to Him,

but for now, I rest in His arms

as He carries me over these rough sands of life.

He does not rebuke me for my sorrow

Nor condemn me for my anger.

He just holds me

     and understands me

     and whispers His love for me.

One day He will again set me on my feet,

and we will fight the battles together;

but for now,

in His arms,

   He lets me sleep.

–by His grace, ©Elizabeth Daghfal