Two weeks have passed since that Monday we waited in agony for the phone call that came half an hour before midnight.
It’s also the last day of the month that Jolene died. I will be glad to see it go.
Mom, a widow and the lone survivor of five siblings, said, “You’ll be sorry to see it come from now on.”
I hope not. My son and one granddaughter were born in March. But I doubt it will be easy.
That Monday morning, when we were only aware that Jolene was missing, I prayed the following: “Oh, Lord, You know my worries about Jolene. I thank You that You know where she is and that You are working out all things for her good. Break through the stone walls she has erected.”
She is not only in a good place, she is in the best place now. Those stone walls are smashed, replaced by the loving arms of our heavenly Father. But oh, that is not the way I wanted my prayer to be answered.
The words from Natalie Grant’s song, Held, one of Jolene’s favorites, continue to haunt me. To think that providence would/ Take a child from his mother while she prays/ Is appalling. Appalling. Perfect word for the sense of helplessness and hopelessness of a child dead in spite of all our love and prayers and faith.
But with Natalie, I also affirm And to know, that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held.
God’s arms are strong enough.