A few weeks after my niece passed away, I stood next to my sister in church.
The funk that settles after a death—especially an unexpected baby just starting life—is hard to get out of. I’m not sure it really ever leaves completely.
As the worship leader finished one song and started a new one, my shoulders tensed.
I knew the words to this song already. I knew what we were going to sing. I knew the Truth I was being asked to proclaim.
I knew it was going to hurt.
I knew it was going to be hard.
Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
