Echo-Foxtrot by Clare Revell Page A

dad being killed or Deefer dying was a punishment either. God may have allowed the injury to get your attention, but He certainly isn’t punishing you.”
    Lou finished the chips. “But how do I know He loves me?”
    “Because He sent His only Son, Jesus, to die for you.”
    Lou looked at Jim. “If He loves me that much, then why did this happen? How can a God who loves me, this great, loving, and good God, do this? Was He asleep? Busy elsewhere?”
    “Lou, God never sleeps. He is always watching over you. Psalm 139:2–4 says so. He always does what is best for you. He knows what is good for you and that is what He does. Even though it may not seem like it at the time.”
    Lou snorted. “Hah. You got that right.”
    Jim looked at her. “Lou. God does love you. He knows how you feel.”
    “Prove it. Prove that He loves me. Prove to me He knows what I’m feeling.” She broke off and looked up as Jack came across.
    “Hi,” he said. “Am I interrupting?”
    “No,” Jim said, noticing the Bible that Jack was carrying. “Maybe you’re just the person we need. Lou wants proof that God loves her and knows how she feels.”
    Jack looked at Lou.
    She looked at him then down at the plate. “I just can’t get past the fact that He could let this happen if He isn’t picking on me. Or other bad stuff. If God is really out there...”
    “Oh, God is out there, Lou,” Jack said. “And He knows how you feel.” He moved the table out of the way and sat next to her on the bed. He handed Lou his Bible. “Psalm 88,” he said. “Read it and then tell me that God doesn’t know how you feel.”
    Lou flicked through it and found it.
    “Read it aloud,” Jack told her.
    “ I am overwhelmed with troubles and my life draws near to death. I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like one without strength. I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom You remember no more, who are cut off from Your care. You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths. Your wrath lies heavily on me; You have overwhelmed me with all Your waves. You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them. I am confined and cannot escape; my eyes are dim with grief. I call to You, Lord, every day; I spread out my hands to You—”
    As she read, her voice wavered and tears blurred her vision. She struggled on, but eventually her voice broke.
    Jack took the Bible from her and continued to read from verse thirteen. “ But I cry to You for help, Lord; in the morning my prayer comes before You. Why, Lord, do You reject me and hide Your face from me? From my youth I have suffered and been close to death; I have borne Your terrors and am in despair. Your wrath has swept over me; Your terrors have destroyed me. All day long they surround me like a flood; they have completely engulfed me. You have taken from me friend and neighbor—darkness is my closest friend .”
    Jack stopped reading. The silence was only broken by Lou’s sobs. He put the Bible down and took her in his arms. “You see, even God knows where you are coming from. Jesus Himself felt alone and separated from God. Remember how, on the cross, He quoted Psalm twenty-two, ‘ My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? ’”
    Jim reread part of Psalm 88:8. “ You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them .”
    “I’ve managed that one,” Lou sobbed. “Haven’t I?”
    “You tried,” Jim agreed.
    She glanced up at him.
    “But it’ll take way more than one of your bad moods to get rid of us. You see, we love you and don’t like to see you unhappy. When you’re sad, it makes us sad, too.”
    Jack held her tightly, her tears soaking his shirt. “And God loves you, too. John three sixteen says so.”
    “I know that one,” Lou said quietly.
    “I guess you know Psalm twenty-three?” Jack asked.
    She nodded. “ The Lord is my shepherd. ”
    Jack smiled. “My pastor always says that