CHOOSING TO SEE
Obviously, I never planned to write this book.
No mom can come up with words to express the ripping
pain of losing a child . . . and no words can do justice to the
mysteries of God in the midst of tragedy.
When people ask how we are doing, the first thing I always say is,
“I want Maria back. I want my son Will Franklin not to have this as
a chapter in his story. I want my children to be healthy, my family
secure. I don’t really care whose life has been touched or changed
because of our loss!”
That is the heart of a mother who lost a daughter and is determined
not to lose another child. I believe God can handle my heart,
my questions, and my anger. It’s okay to want Maria back. It’s okay
to be angry. The question is, what do I do with it all? What do I do
with God? In the midst of such heartbreak, do I really believe that
all things work together for good for those who love Him and are
called according to His purpose?
The answer to that question has come at a great cost. It has been
agonizing to choose to see God at work through the tears of losing
my daughter. I have, however, experienced the kindness, sweetness,
faithfulness, and redemptive heart of God. I believe none of my
tears have been wasted.
So here I am, putting down these words one by one, because God
has surprised me over the long days since Maria went to heaven. I
have come face to face with evil and what part it plays in our lives,
past, present, and future. I am realizing, though, that God is God,
and He is purposeful in destroying what evil intends for harm. He
is surprising me in good ways beyond what can be measured on this
earth! I am living what I once only read in Genesis 50:20–21, where
Joseph tells his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended
it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving
of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and
your children . . . ”
From CHOOSING TO SEE by Mary Beth Chapman
© 2010 by Mary Beth Chapman
Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group.