Frozen

In Conversation with God, Advent, Volume 1, pg. 256 reads "...he wants us to understand at the same time that our pain and suffering can have a redemptive meaning and lead to our personal purification, even in the case of those which seem unjust, or out of all proportion."
This book has been my guide much of my way through Advent to Christmas, and now, after Christmas.  There are gems throughout that stop and stun as if slapped across the face ...woken from a deep sleep.  Last year as I read the quote above, it had a different meaning, different application ...my worries, my sufferings were different. Now, it is a suffering like no other.  I should read and take comfort in those words.  Certainly, the death of a child is out of all proportion.  Could it actually  mean that God understands?  In my head, I know, I trust He does ....but here goes my heart again.  Restless isn't the right word, because that would mean unsettled, not sure where to rest ...to pause.  My heart is insane ...refusing to be still, rejecting anything it does not want ...and the only thing I want is Phoebe.  Yes, I have traveled to Bethlehem, and yes, I have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams, and yes I am grateful.  But what troubles me is that I cannot stay there.  Why, just days away from such peace, such assurance, am I thrown into the jumble of an ocean storm, clamoring to come up for air, and when barely a breath is taken, slam ...I am pummeled to the bottom again.  When does this chaos end?   I feel like a grownup, suddenly thrown back into my teenage years.  It just does not seem fair.
Later the book reads  "But little or great, suffering accepted and offered to Our Lord produces peace and serenity.  When it is not accepted it is out of tune and its internal rebellion is shown in gloom and bad temper."  This is where I am ...not accepting ...and I thought I had.  Each moment I must choose, but each moment of this day, I've been begging for it to be lifted.  It is not His plan for me ...right now.  Dear Lord, help me to choose this, accept this pain. 
Yesterday was the feast of the Holy Innocents, the babes killed by Herod's men as they searched to find the newborn King.  Imagine the pain of their parents ...the utter, unbelievable loss.  Yet, it saved the Christ child ...they died for Him ...and later He would die for all of us.  If I only this pathetic brain of mine, this sagging heart could wrap around the magnitude of these babies slaughtered.   If I could only place my sorrow next to there's ...I would find gratitude in that I had been spared.  That is amazing. If I consider that ...perhaps, because of there loss ..I will find peace.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.