Genevieve stared at what was left of her house.

Amazing how something could be ravished so quickly. She had been out on a date with her fiancé, leaving her three year old daughter home with a baby sitter. She had returned from her date to find flames licking at the kitchen walls. Rushing in, she had scooped up her daughter, awakened the sitter from her nap on the couch and hightailed it out of the house. She now stood in the street in front of her house, shivering in the chilly evening air.

The firemen still played their hoses over the blackened and crusty wreckage of her home. The roof had collapsed in several minutes ago. Tears started to pour down her face. Everything she had owned in this world lay in a heap of ruins before her. Her diaries that she had kept since she was 8. The dress she had purchased to wear at her wedding. The videos of her daughter’s first steps and first words. Even the new toaster she had just bought last week. Everything was gone.

She wearily sank to her knees on the pavement, sobbing as she clutched her sleeping baby to her heart.

“God, where are you in all of this? Where were you?” The words were torn from her broken and devastated heart.

I’m still here. All things work together for the good of those who love God.

“Help me Father, help me to see that, give me peace.” she wept into the tousled mess of brown hair on the little head that rested on her shoulder. Peace filled her weary body.


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By God’s Grace,