I’m not mad at You, you know. You’ve been the most beautiful Friend to me through this. So near, so sweet. How could I be bitter towards the One taking care of my baby and interceding for me as I grieve her absence? Am I mad at all? Yes, but not at You. I’m mad that we fought and believed for Opal’s life, for resurrection, yet my arms are still empty. But I know that You, too, grieve at the injustice of this loss. You didn’t plan it. In fact, it was Your plan to take on my sorrow, not cause it. I know I can come to You and find a resting place for this pain; I will not be consumed. How could my very source of comfort be the source of my pain, as well? Didn’t my Jesus say that it is the enemy – that thief – who comes to steal, kill, and destroy? My Opal was stolen by a thief, not by the Author of life, not by the One who dreamed of her long before she was a dream in my own heart. And because You are, at the core of Your nature, so very good, I believe that even in this great act of robbery, somehow beauty will emerge. As our great Redeemer, You can take even the worst plans of the enemy, and turn them into something good. Just as a seed enters into the darkness of the ground and dies, life bursts forth as a result. Death truly is swallowed up in victory. My Opal lives – forever free!