Susan LaffertyNothing can separate us from His love. Nothing.
Death begs to differ. Disease and pain try to write a different story. The troubles in this world whisper hopelessness.
Loss. Division. Fracture. All attempting to question or deny His love, compassion, and care.
And yet. We dare to hope. Because of our Savior.
He writes the true story.
Our firstborn was 14 weeks old when we moved overseas. En route to Pakistan.
The week before we left America, I held her close and wept. Quietly. With the door shut. In the bedroom at my in-laws’ home.
I asked the Lord, “What are we doing to our little girl?”
The weight of leaving what we knew and going to the unknown hit me hard that day as I rocked Becca in my arms.
But we finished packing our trunks and suitcases. Then boarded the Thai Airways flight across the ocean.
So he built an altar there, called on the name of the Lord, and pitched his tent there. Isaac’s servants also dug a well there. [Genesis 26:25]
When Abraham or Isaac or Jacob moved to a new place, they did the necessary. Built an altar and worshiped the Lord their God. Pitched a tent and dwelled in the temporary place.
And dug a well. Dug deep. To tap into a source of water hidden beneath the ground.