“Will goodness last?

Look at the light catching blades of grass,

And how your heart delights in menial tasks

Such as giving two dirty children a bath,

And you tell Me if goodness can last.”

Bath time. Watercolor sketch on paper. March 2018

This poem came to me a year ago this month, April 2017, when I was wrestling with how I would respond if the sweet, easy good times I was living in would not last. Would I still see goodness? Would I still know love? Would I still KNOW that God is, at His core, GOOD? Crazy, I know. The wrestle continues, but I still know, even if I don’t always feel it. And it’s so comforting somehow that the wrestle and the answer were there before the hard times...

It's frustrating and comforting at the same time. God, if you knew, why didn't you stop it instead of just preparing us? Why didn't you whisper to me "make him go to the cardiologist/ or get prayer, etc" instead of telling me that I could see beauty no matter what? Why did you prepare my heart all spring and summer to yearn for contentment no matter what, before the shocking, terrible blow that came will the fall? Arghhhh. I don't understand you. And I know that's a good thing right now. But I really do want to know you and understand you. It's the glory of God to hide a matter and the glory of kings to search it out. I'm just sad. I miss him something terrible. And I miss him for our kids. I want to see from that perspective that he now sees with. I want to SO understand you. I'll dive in.