I can’t remember the last time I found myself on a tennis court facing Josiah across a low-slung net. Returning Nick to campus offered Josiah and I an excuse to try out the new sports complex, complete with row after row of tennis courts, which we did with great enjoyment before being thrown out. Apparently we really weren’t supposed to be there. So instead of slamming bright green balls at each other over a dropping net, we tailed Tim around campus and at last landed in Nathan’s room, where I felt as out of place--the only female--as a tuna fish in a school of sharks.
A rather dismal cloud drifted over an otherwise beautiful afternoon, when we received a phone call from the church back home, informing us that eight-month-old Emily Roberts had passed out of this world this morning. I never had the chance to meet her. How can I, just passed from girlhood to womanhood, begin to mourn the passing to eternity which skipped so many stages? How can I ever comprehend the reasons of an all-knowing God for calling her away from her family so early? Only this can I offer: They loved her. He loves her more.
Lord, questions fall unuttered,
Complaints and bitterness unmuttered
When I stop and gaze at Thee.
Eternal purpose, there, I see.
Not purpose that explains the past
Or builds up rules of hard and fast
But when I stop and gaze at Thee
I see Thou lovest more than me.