This week I lost a loved one who has known and loved me my entire life. We also lost a family pet, Beatrice has been screaming all week long while we’re supposed to be working (I’m often solo) and packing for Portugal (which now is both Alabama for the funeral and then Portugal), and to top it off Rosie threw up three times this morning. Twice in our bed… joy of joys. When I tell you our to do list was MILES long before this week, I don’t even know how to explain how long it is now. And I’m often chipping away with an angry baby strapped in her carrier while tears run down my cheeks.

This is such a terrible turn to what has been the most perfect season of life ever. Our marriage is so strong, we are thriving as parents and spouses. We love each other, love our baby, love our families and home and pets and jobs. I love to nurse Bea, I love that I get to stay home with her while also not giving up my art. And though this week I’m sowing with tears, I know that I’m doing so in the most wonderful season I’ve ever lived. I have never had purpose the way I do right now, making much of Jesus in our home alongside Phillip’s leadership for the good of our precious daughter.

But when I look back on past seasons of life and my past writings, God has always moved in my heart in patterns or repetition. I think I’ve had a hard time writing in the past couple of years because in the joy of so many hopes fulfilled, that has shifted. Now it feels like my time with the Lord is like adding pennies into the piggy bank of my heart, where it may not all fit together right now as I read the Word but I keep hiding it in my heart knowing that God will bring it to mind when I do need it most. And today, I need it the most.

Today I need to remember that God turns my weeping into rejoicing, which is the entire reason we chose Beatrice (“Bringer of Joy”) as our daughter’s name. I need to remember that not a sparrow falls without God’s knowledge when I remember my brother’s , then my mom’s, parrot who passed away last night. I need to remember that we do not grieve as those who have no hope as I mourn the loss of my grandmother’s best friend who has loved me through every season of life. I need to remember Mary and Martha as I’m tempted to rush through wake windows with Bea so I can work work work my day away instead of holding time with her as my most precious calling. I need to remember that God walks with me into the valley of death, comforts me and leads me with His rod and staff, makes me lie down in green pastures. He makes a table for me in the midst of my enemies, ordained my days before even one of them came to be, hems me in behind and before.

All of this to say, if your time with the Lord looks different than it ever has, you’re not alone. What matters is that we keep running our race with endurance, knowing that the Word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword. His Word does not return void, even when reading it doesn’t cause huge revelations, because hiding it in our hearts daily not only transforms us from the inside out but also allows us to hear His still small voice when we need Him the most.

Though I’m writing less frequently these days, I still pray for each person who reads these posts. God is with you, and I am too.

All my love,

Whitney Lynne Robinson