I am still marveling at how good it felt to be back in church yesterday and how different I felt. It was like I had never worshiped before, or at least not for a really long time. Every word of every song I sang rang with true conviction, and every song we sang felt like it was written just for me.

"Everyone needs compassion, Love that's never failing; Let mercy fall on me."

I now know what God's compassion feels like. It's amazing and awesome, but really, there are no words to describe it. His compassion does not erase pain, but somehow, His compassion allows me to embrace the pain and yet rise above it in order to hold fast to His great promises at the same time. I'm not sure that makes sense, but that's the only way I can think of how to describe it.

And His Love is never failing. Like Angie Smith said when she first received the news that her baby would not survive outside of the womb, "My Jesus is the same." Reading her faith-filled response took my breath away. Before I knew God, and even as a growing Christian, I could not help but to see God having the same sort of conditional love as an earthly father might have: rewarding us for good behavior and punishing us for bad. Losing Stella and talking with other friends who have experienced the loss of a child (thank you Bethan!) has helped me continue to understand that God does not punish us. He does allow circumstances to challenge us and help us grow, and He gives us the free will to choose how we will react to every degree of trial, whether it be an annoyance or a tragedy. Since God is our perfect Father, He loves us before and He loves us after every trial we face. I am writing this down, because I know there will be times I will be tempted to believe the opposite.

His mercy has fallen on me. I have already seen the many ways His mercy has fallen on me and on my family, and I continue to see mercy fall every day. While I am deeply saddened by the loss of our dear Stella, I am not without hope, and more often then not, I am not afraid of waking up in the morning and facing a new day. "This is the first day of the rest of your life. This is the first day of the rest of your life. And even in the dark, we can still see the light. It's gonna be all right." (Matt Maher, Hold Us Together)

After facing death, there are moments like these when I feel so alive, a new type of alive that I've never felt before. I hope this feeling never fades.