As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives and at the last He will take His stand on the earth. Job 19:25
Twelve years ago this week, my husband and I learned that our unborn, second child had died. We were able to see the baby on the ultrasound, perfectly formed but still and motionless. For eight weeks and one day we had made plans and dreamed dreams for this child.
And that is what we grieved for— the hugs and kisses lost, the birthday parties, the smiles and laughter, the life with this child that would never be. We spent the next few days realizing we would not see this child again on this side of eternity.
That February 4, 1998 I cried myself to sleep in the wee hours of the lonely night, begging God to make our baby live, to change His mind. At five a.m., a robin’s sweet call pierced through the early morning darkness and awakened me. And I knew the answer to my prayer.
The answer, God’s answer, was a gentle and final no. But as light illuminated the blue velvet sky, peace, not despair, enveloped me and I knew despite my sadness, I wouldn’t walk this path alone.
Many of you have suffered your own personal griefs. One dear, elderly lady shared with me something that has often helped me walk in faith ever since, even in the times of brokenness when hope and trust battle against bitterness and anger. She said, “Life is not easy. Life hurts. But God is good. Know that He knows and He loves you devotedly.”
There have been other times when His answer was wait. That may be the hardest answer of all. Perhaps you’ve been here, too, with finances, health issues, or relationship problems.
And in the land of waiting, I’ve had to tie a knot in the end of my rope of faith and just hang on to what I knew in my head—until my heart could catch up.
But sometimes God says yes. On February 4, 1999 once again at five a.m. I sat in the darkness and a robin’s sweet call pierced the stillness of the night. Streaks of light illumined the sky, but this time I rocked our new baby, our third child, in my arms.
With a sudden clarity at the sound of the bird’s bittersweet ecstasy, I recalled another dark night exactly one year prior. How far my family and I had traveled in the space of one short year. How beautiful and timely God had added this grace note to my life.
That week a mommy friend sent me a note congratulating us on our baby’s birth. She had grieved with me along that journey of pain. Her card simply read, “God is so good.”
He was good that day as I rocked my new baby. God was also good during that previous year of pain, too. My Redeemer, my Rock, my Shepherd, my Peace.
How did I know my Redeemer did, indeed, live? In His Word he promised to comfort, strengthen and guide through the good and the bad times. And He was faithful.
He met me in my hour of dark uncertainty. I know—because the grave is empty and He holds me, all my children, you and yours, in the nail-scarred palms of His hands.
Do you have your own personal experience of God’s goodness, that your Redeemer lives?
How do you know?