I have lost two babies. Jesus held them before I did and I will miss them for all of my days. At some point during both of these periods of loss, I was told – with the sincerest of hearts and the sweetest of comforting intentions – that God wouldn’t give me more than I could handle. I hear this adage handed out still, in all kinds of situations and places, and it strikes a place in my heart that burns quietly.
Because I don’t agree.
I can’t handle the loss of children. Some days I feel I can’t handle my living children. I can’t handle my anxious heart. I wasn’t able to handle an unhealthy job and living situation, I couldn’t handle my mother’s cancer, I can’t handle the injustices facing the voiceless. But here I am, having “handled” all of this and more. Was it because God knew I could, so He piled it on? I don’t think so.
Does He give me more than I can handle? Absolutely, but God doesn’t give us more than He can handle. Do you hear me?
God does not give us more than He can handle.
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