The Shunammite woman’s story made me think about something I’ve experienced in my own life.

Sometimes God gives us something we weren’t even asking Him for.

A door opens. An opportunity comes. Something falls into place so unexpectedly that you know you didn’t make it happen on your own.

And then something changes.

Suddenly, the thing you believed God gave you doesn’t look anything like you thought it would.

That’s where her story really got me.

She never asked Elisha for a son. She had already learned to live without one. But God gave her one anyway.

Then her son died in her arms.

I can only imagine the questions she had.

Why would God give me this if I was going to lose it?

I think I’ve asked God my own version of that question before.

Why did You open that door if it was eventually going to close?

Why did You bring me into that season if it was going to end this way?

Why allow something to become such a big part of my life if I was eventually going to have to let it go?

But I’m learning that a painful ending doesn’t mean God wasn’t present in the beginning.

And just because something looks over doesn’t mean God is finished using it.

What I love most about this woman is what she did next.

She went back to God.

She didn’t pretend she wasn’t hurting. When she reached Elisha, her pain came out. She questioned him. She grabbed onto him. She was honest.

That reminds me that faith doesn’t mean I have to pretend everything is okay.

I can trust God and still say, this hurts.

I can have peace and still have questions.

I can believe He is good while admitting I don’t understand what He’s doing.

There have been chapters of my life that looked completely different while I was living them than they do looking back now.

Things I thought were endings became redirections.

Things I questioned eventually made sense.

And some things still don’t.

But I’ve seen God show up enough times to know that I don’t need the whole story to trust the Author.

The Shunammite woman reminds me that when something God allowed into my life stops making sense, I don’t have to run away from Him.

I can bring it right back to Him.

This hurts.

I don’t understand.

But I’m still here.

And I still trust You.