A field of dreams.

Speak it, and it becomes real.  Self-fulfilling prophecy?

I do not know the answer to this riddle.  I am a woman of faith, and that faith precludes fear.  So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  Isaiah 41:10 And yet, I am flesh…fallen and frail.  But I am a new creation and am not bound by that which came before.  Enigma.

I ponder that which I cannot comprehend because it is my nature…human nature.  It is our lot to ask questions, oft times irritating and frustratingly unanswerable questions, in an attempt to make sense of the senseless.  Why must children suffer?  Why must children perish?  Why does man commit unspeakable crimes against man?  Why do we have moments of unspeakable joy one day and the next moment be assailed with hours, days, weeks, months of sadness and pain and loss?  More riddles.  Unanswerable riddles.

The questions do not rattle me.  My faith is not shaken.  It is built upon a rock.  But that does not mean that I do not question Him.  He knows my heart.  He knows my curiosity, my pain, my confusion, my joy, my sadness, my grief, my anger, my….my everything.  So, it is from that rock that I still ask, “Why must children suffer?”  And it is from that rock that I must face the fact that I cannot know.  That there will not be an answer that truly satisfies me.

“Held” by Natalie Grant

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.

Who told us we’d be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We’re asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It’s unfair.

Chorus:
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell, we’d be held.

This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred know our sorrow.
The wise hands opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.

Bridge:
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.