All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
J. R. R. Tolkien

I cannot imagine facing this kind of trauma without having a season of wrestling with God about issues of faith and love.
Because surely this thing called death feels so wrong.
Losing a child is all sorts of backwards, twisted, messed up, WRONG!

Today it makes me angry. I’m mad that my son died. Just mad.

I’m shake my fist at the sky mad, and guess what, that’s ok! (no trite words or platitudes please)

Thankfully David understood, and his words remind me that it’s ok to ask God hard questions.

Psalm 10:1
Why, O LORD, do you stand far off?
Why, O LORD, do you stand far off?
Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?

Psalm 22:1
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me
so far from the words of my groaning?

Psalm 42:9
I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”

So I will wander through this, and I am certain to find my way.

I am not lost, but surely I am a wanderer.

I will ask questions. Some that will have no answers.

I will read words and ask “God is this true? Show me that You really are Who You say You are.”

I will hear words memorized from years past echo in my mind and ask, “What does this really mean?” or “Where are You in the middle of my pain?”

And at the very heart of it what I am really asking when I cry out is, “Dear God, I hope You are who You say You are!”

And part of me knows that He is.

The other part of me wants Him to show me.