Grief is a strange beast. Sometimes it lies sleeping in the sun like a large cat, content to leave you alone, and sometimes it springs itself on you from out of nowhere, leaving you no time to recover before the tears or anger take over and you're lost, swallowed whole by the tabby that turned out to be a lion. You can go about your life on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday with a spring in your step and then wake up on Friday overcome by sadness. Nothing has objectively changed, the grief that lives inside of you has simply decided to wake up, stretch, and come out. I say all that in order to let you know that if you have these feelings, you are not alone. Just before Christmas I encountered a sleepless night. Finally, at 3:30am I got up, made a cup of tea, and sat on the rug in my living room to talk to God. I told Him all of it. I told Him that I don't understand how the last six months (or the last two years) could be for our good and His glory. I told Him