For the last month, I find myself asking God, “Why?”
Why did He relocate me 500 miles away from my family? Me, the homebody? The one who loves tradition and family gatherings and routine? Who cherishes the familiar and loathes the idea of uprooting and starting over? The one who has never had to start over anywhere?
Why did it please Him to call my beloved Dad home now?
Why did Dad have to die 3 weeks after I relocated 500 miles away from my family?
Why am I here in Ohio instead of back home in Virginia?
These questions of my breaking heart are not cries of lost faith. Rather, they are laments to my God, whose perfect plan I still trust. I feel like the psalmist who cries out to God for answers or healing, but ends the psalm by recounting God’s faithfulness and steadfast love to His people.
“Father, my heart is breaking with grief, with questions. Why am I here, so far away from my stricken family? Why am I not in a current location to help? Why did You take Dad away at this precise moment? Though I doubt I will ever get the answers I crave in this lifetime, I trust that You are still sovereign – that nothing happens by accident or chance. No harm can befall Your people without Your knowledge. I trust that You will work this tragedy for Your glory, and that You will continue to hold my family in Your hands. Thank You for the hope of the resurrection. Thank You for Your promise to never abandoned Your people. Though I feel so alone in this new city, I know You are with me.
I trust my broken heart to You.
In Jesus’ holy name,