The Worst Thing is NOT the Last Thing

"The worst thing is not the last thing."

This was the quote that stuck with me on Sunday morning.  Adam Hamilton, in his video series "Why" made this statement.  No matter what it is...no matter how bad it is...it is not the last thing.

Our Sunday School class discussed how bad things happen.  Being good, doing good; this kind of hard work doesn't give you immunity to the effects of evil.  We will suffer and have pain.  Sometimes that pain is very hard to bear.

Horrible things happen.  There is no reason, no "why."  Trying to find the "why" is one sure way to lose your way, to lose hope.  

Hope is what we have to hang on to in every circumstance, and it is what I am most grateful for tonight.  The worst thing is NOT the last thing.

"What then are we to say about these things?  If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave Him up for all of us, will He not with Him also give us everything else?  Who will separate us from the love of Christ?....No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us."  Romans 8:31-32, 35, 37
For a lot of comfort and food for thought read:

Why? Making Sense of God's Will by Adam Hamilton


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day by Day

Alan is doing better since his hospitalization.  His outbursts are fewer, and are less "pitched" than before his med changes.  The staff assigned to him at his group home are doing well with him.  They have to pick their battles, as we all do, and are trying to keep him to a schedule. We took Alan to his neurology appointment this week.  Usually when someone asks Alan how he is doing, he just says "fine," but on this day he answered, "My knees are weak, and I have to lean over and hold on to things." After examination, Alan's doctor recommended physical therapy, as Alan is perilously close to falling.  While we don't know if Alan will be able to follow a therapists directions, or will even want to cooperate, we will arrange for a consultation. I can deal with the nuts and bolts of being an advocate and sometimes caregiver for my son, but I find it hard to maintain the focus I need when I hear his say that he is having trouble walking.  It is
Read more

Our Sweet Beloved Son

Image
Lacy Alan Goff passed away into the arms of Jesus early in the morning of May 28, 2016.  We were called to the nursing home about 1:30 am. God has shown His mercy.  Lacy was still himself most of the time. He was mostly happy and always had a smile on his face.  We do not have to watch the slow decline of HD rob him of what was left of himself. We have been privileged to be Lacy's parents for 35 years.  He has been a joy in our lives and hearts.  We had such hard times, but Lacy never failed to try his hardest.  He was a worshipper of the Lord Jesus and a man of faith.  He slipped into heaven in his sleep.  What a joyous homecoming party in heaven! "Soady Pops" for everyone!! Now it is left to us to plan our goodbye and to keep walking our own road of faith knowing that our sweet beloved son is in the arms of our Lord and Savior. My last words to him yesterday afternoon were "I love you."  He smiled at me.  I hugged him.  On the way home, a scripture sud
Read more

Grief and Hope

When we visited with our pastor in preparation for Lacy's service, he reminded us of the scripture in I Thessalonians 4:13   But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope ... Knowing where Lacy is, that he is safe and finally free of all his burdens, does not assuage the pain of loss.  We are grieving - sometimes with tears, sometimes with a swift intake of breath - and the grief is oppressive.  I don't want anyone to have the idea that our faith that gives us the hope of eternal life somehow makes us immune to grief.  On the contrary, we are able to express our pain because we know where our son is right now.  We are mourning the loss of his presence in our lives, and the loss of daily contact with the son we loved with all our hearts.   There are no words to express this grief.  My body has seemed to shut down, as though I have been under anesthesia.  I cannot keep a tho
Read more