…and tomorrow. And the next day.

Life is unfair, friends.

It takes when we give.
It gives away when we need.
It doesn’t explain itself.
It has no rules.
It has no guide.
It is violent.
It is wrong.

God is just, my friends.

He gives abundantly what we do not deserve.
He takes away and we may not understand.
He holds our interests in his hand.
He is devoted.
He is one with mercy and judgment.
He allows the hurt but He does not ignore it.
It does not vanish, His love for us. No matter the hurt.

Life is unfair, the sin that is in it. The corrupt. The violence. The hate. The ignorance. The adulterated existence we are a part of. The blame we put on God, the one who risked more than we ever would be willing to do. He took the blame. He carried that weight, that burden of our emotional ignorance and pride. Yet He still loves us. Yet He is still here.

That.

That is unfair.

That is just so incredibly unfair.

So today, I am thankful. For what I have and who I am despite the cruelty of this world I have endured my share of. I am thankful for a loving God who has shown me unimaginable, unbelievable unconditional love. I am thankful to those who – while they have endured even worse – have allowed themselves to be an encouragement to me and to others. I see you and wonder sometimes why? And where do you get the strength? And the answer is always the same.

God is just.
God is one with mercy and judgement.
He allows the hurt but He does not ignore it.
It does not vanish, His love for us. No matter the hurt.

So today I am thankful. And tomorrow. And the next day.

Thank you, Lovelies. Please be kind, always. ❤

+++

I had been warned – I had warned myself – not to reckon on worldly happiness. We were even promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, “Blessed are they that mourn,” and I accepted it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination. Yes; but should it, for a sane man, make quite such a difference as this? No. And it wouldn’t for a man whose faith had been real faith and whose concern for other people’s sorrows had been real concern. The case is too plain. If my house has collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards. The faith which “took these things into account” was not faith but imagination. The taking them into account was not real sympathy. If I had really cared, as I thought I did, about the sorrows of the world, I should not have been so overwhelmed when my own sorrow came.

– C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (pp. 36-37)