| Things to Live For |
Chapter 17 |
Page 4 |
Another comfort in bereavement comes in the assurance of God’s unchanging love. When his children were dead, Job gave expression to his faith in the words: “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.” It was the same Lord who gave and who took away, and the same love. It does not seem so to us. But if we could see all tings as God sees the, we should find the same goodness in the one as in the other. Someday we shall see it. Jesus said, “What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter.” Faith accepts this promise, and believes that whatever God does must be right. In this confidence it abides, and, believing, finds comfort and peace.
Comfort in bereavement comes also through our memories of our beloved ones. The first shock of sorrow ofttimes leaves the heart stunned, like a young bird thrown out of its nest by a wild storm sweeping through the branches. For a time all is confusion. Even faith seems for a while to be staggered. One sees nothing but the desolation of grief. Every beautiful thing appears to be shattered. No voices of comfort are heard in the soul’s anguish. Even God seems far off. In the amazement and bewilderment it appears that life never can have any joy again, that its old tasks never can be taken up. All the memories are memories of loss and sorrow. The beautiful years of life, with their love and their gentle ministries, are hidden for the time in the one great sense of bereavement.
But, as the days pass, this bitterness also passes. A gentle hand takes up the little bird, and helps it back to its nest again. The anguish is soothed by the assurance of divine love that creeps into the heart. Comfort comes as the morning comes after the night and at last the sorrowing one feels–
“Into the darkness creep a gentle hand,
And through the silence search a loving voice;
And then a presence, sweet, pervasive, soft,
Brooding above the longing and the need,–
And this at last is shadow of God’s wing.”
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