The Branch, The Vine, and The Vinedresser
Amidst Child-Loss Grief…
From here? It looks like Satan ate her alive ~
From There? You assure my baby girl does thrive!
From here? My body is worn down and weak ~
From There? You say I'm blessed when I can grieve!
From here? I see my work is compromised ~
From There? Grief ensures my work be improvised!
From here? Grief's changed me; I wonder who I am ~
From There? You assure me, "You are My little lamb!"
If I am Yours, then I will rest in Thee…
"You are Mine. By faith receive new eyes to see...
On earth, what looks to be 'forsaken,'
In Heaven is new sculpting undertaken:
In winter, though the branch looks like it's dead,
In spring, the flower raises up her head!
"Though this life with death feels full of Woe,
Entrust the Faithful Vinedresser
That with each deadly stressor,
Your life and love for Him, He'll ever deftly hallow...
"Life here on earth is not the end,
Let Him mold you to become more and more like Me, your Suffering Friend,
Who never leaves your side, but ever suffers with you to the End."