This littlest girl of mine, she wants to be able to read in the worst way.
She’ll plop down on the couch, ankles crossed, book propped on her sweet chest, just yakking away. She’s in her own little world, creating a story that only she can understand.
And she gets to the last page and always says, “Good End.”
Not “The End”.
It’s “Good End”. . . like she approves of what she’s just created and the “Good End” is her last stamp of approval before she shuts the book and grabs the next one on the pile.
Every once in a while the kids will correct her and I cringe and think that she’ll change the way she says it, but so far, she keeps forgetting.
Sometimes I feel like I need the reminder of the Good End in my life.
A few months ago, I started praying that God would help me to have compassion. To truly, deeply care for others. After Annie died, I couldn’t cope with a lot and as much as I tried to have an outward focus, I realized that much of my life had been turned inward. I decided to pray that my eyes would be opened and my heart would be soft . . . and I was stunned at how quickly and deeply He answered my prayer.
Do you know how much hurt is out there? Too much. I sit and I listen to people’s stories and I am overwhelmed. How will the pain, the heartache, the craziness ever get unraveled?
And then I hear two whispered words, “Good End.”
Somehow, someway, there will be a Good End. Our world is trembling, groaning from the weight . . . but Someday it will all be put right. I don’t even pretend to know how. It seems insurmountable to me, but I cling to Jesus and I believe it is true.
Wherever you are today, hold on to the Good End. It’s coming.
P.S. My other favorite word of Eliza’s right now? All-body. As in “What is all-body doing out here?” and “Where did all-body go?”