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“Surely, this is not God’s will for me.” It was a statement born out of an extreme trial, a thought that came back over and over again, bouncing off the pain, like a relentless pinball machine. As my friend said it, I could hear the weariness in her voice. It was an echo that reverberated through my own heart, through the years of past difficulties and the long moments of present hurts. Sometimes it felt like God was absent in my pain. As we cope with the traumatic, the une

Recently, I sat with someone in the midst of a difficult trial. She was overwhelmed by sorrow, feeling desolate, keenly aware of the brokenness of life, every sorrow a scar running through the length of it. Tears were her daily bread, every morning a struggle as to how to go on. I could sense her despair as she considered the state of her circumstances. My friend’s struggle was familiar to me. I had often sat in a puddle of weariness, pouring out my suffering through unabated

As I pack up Christmas decor and wonder what to do with all the leftovers now that the family has gone home, I have been reflecting on...