In our small town

We live in a small town. Norman Rockwell must have been here. There is a lake in the middle of town with a gazebo on the opposite side. At Christmas time, candles are lit in containers around the shoreline and the Christmas tree floats in the middle of the lake. Santa even rows across the lake for the annual beginning of the Christmas season.




We care about each other in this small town. Even as relative newcomers, we share in the sense of small town-ness.


This morning we heard some heartbreaking news about some friends (in any other town, they would be acquaintances, but, as I said, this small town has this sense...). They have suffered a devastating loss, the death of their unborn child. As he told me, my heart ached. I saw his heart in his eyes and it was aching too. All I could think was "God's purpose". How can we know His purpose in things like this. We can't. More than once, in difficult times, I've been given a peace that the situation didn't warrant. I'm grateful that these friends know that His love is boundless and that His purpose is always perfect too, because without that love and assurance to rest on, how could you bear the pain?