A yellow flower stands in a rolling green meadow, a picture of hope. Smell the delicate sweetness of the blossoms. Stroke the silk petals.

Listen. Can you hear the breeze rippling over the tall grass? A bee buzzes nearby.

Life continues.

It’s easy to forget that truth when massive loss buffets you.

You want to curl up in a tight ball on the cold, hard ground and squeeze your eyes shut to blot out the pain.

I hear your stabbing cries, and I don’t ignore your pain because I know loss.

But there is life beyond loss.

The color of life is my gift to you, my child. Smell the air tinged with coming rain. Press a leaf to your cheek and feel its freshness. Count the colors of the dawn.

Rest in my creation. Let my strength revive you and allow my healing power to flow into you.

I know your pain, my child.

Rest in my graceful presence and be restored.

For I am about to do something new.

See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?

I will make a pathway through the wilderness.

I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

The wild animals in the fields will thank me,

the jackals and owls, too,

for giving them water in the desert.

Yes, I will make rivers in the dry wasteland

so my chosen people can be refreshed.

Isaiah 43:19-20

My book, Cutting Through Despair: Dare to Hope, expands the idea of trusting God in hardships.