He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. ISAIAH 30:19
My mother, Dalcie Rainey, died just before sunrise on a Sunday morning after a gallant two-year battle with Alzheimer's. She was buried that Tuesday. Then Barbara and I, after lingering behind to visit with family for a day, left early on Thursday and drove to Nashville, arriving just in time for the birth of our third grandchild.
The scene outside the birthing room was thick with drama as Barbara and the other wannabe grandmother stood with their ears cupped shamelessly to the door, straining to hear what was happening on the other side. "It's a boy? A girl?" Nurses paced in and out as both women—like two White House reporters—peppered them for any shred of information.
Finally, at 4:43 P.M., one of the happiest sounds in the world trickled under the door—a newborn baby's cry. Our son Samuel soon inched into the hallway, his grin as wide as the Mississippi River we'd crossed a few hours before. The two grannies accosted him, demanding to know the sex of the baby. And though he tried to remain mysterious—"Stephanie hasn't even held him yet . . ."—notice theclassic slip. Both grannies seized on the newfound data, and Samuel Peterson Rainey II was celebrated into the world by a burst of hallway cheers.
As I wrote in an email to family and friends later that evening, trying to capture what I was feeling: "What a contrast of emotions—from the grave to the cradle. I'm grateful to God for how this week concluded. It was a great reminder that there is life after death."
We don't always see these extremes in such close proximity. But the truth remains that in God's economy, life follows death. Hope follows loss. Whatever you've endured, God has heard "the sound of your cry." Await new life.
What is the truth about God that would enable you to change your attitude and believe God for a dream reborn, for pain to be replaced with promise?
Pray that you will believe the truth about God and experience hope, even when you can't yet see it.