My sweet sister-in-law gave me this book when she came for the funeral. It was wrapped in a pretty green organza bow and had a card with it. It ended up in a bag from the funeral home with the rest of the cards and things that one gets from the funeral home. I didn't pull it out to even read the card right away, it was just too much.
Several days later, I finally got up the courage to at least open the card, and then look at the book. Once I started reading, I could not put it down. I read and sobbed and read and sobbed. It was very difficult to read, because I knew the pain, and because it was so fresh. But it was wonderful to read, too. Because there was hope. Not the hope that comes from reading about a family that is a year or more out from losing their child, but the hope of Jesus.
I tried reading another book that they hand out at the support group that I went to a couple times, but I could not get beyond the first few pages. Why? Because there was no Jesus there. There was no hope.
The sermon at church on Sunday was on this exact subject, and Hans did such an awesome job. If you have a hard time understanding the purpose, or the reason these horrible, awful things happen, you can listen here.
The verses that stick out the most to me are Romans 8:18 "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." and 2 Corinthians 4:17 "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." AMEN!