Someone asked me the other day how I could still believe in God. Actually, they said, “I couldn’t still believe in God if that happened to me.” As if believing in God in the midst of tragedy means I must not love my baby as much as they do, enough to be done with God if this is what I get.
And I thought, “How could I not?
Cause if I don’t believe in God then this is it, game over, do not pass go, no second chances, you’re out of luck, final answer, you’re out.
But the hope of the gospel is that THIS IS NOT THE END. In the end, all will be made right and though my pain right now is very real, it is also temporary.
To be honest, it doesn’t feel temporary. It feels overwhelming and all consuming and in my worst moments I can’t help but wonder why I can’t have both. Why I can’t have Imogen here on earth AND spend eternity with her in heaven. It doesn’t seem like too much to ask. He hasn’t told me why.
He hasn’t told me a lot of things and in this season there’s a lot I don’t know. I don’t know why Imogen died, I don’t know why this is a chapter in our story, I don’t know how God will redeem this, I don’t know why God didn’t heal her, I don’t know what is the purpose of our pain, I don’t know the extent of what we’re grieving, I don’t know what the future holds, I don’t know if we’ll be able to have another baby, and most days I don’t even know what to do with myself right now.
But I’m reminding myself of the things I do know. And I know this is not the end. Death is not final. Not Christ’s, not Imogen’s, not mine, not yours. It doesn’t get the final say.
So how can I still believe in God? Because he has the words of eternal life. And honestly, I’ve never been more aware of how much I need them, those words dripping with Hope and redemption and restoration of all that is lost.
It doesn’t take away my pain right now when I want to hold my baby and love her with my eyes here on earth. But it does give me hope that it won’t always be this way and I sure am grateful that it won’t.