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“G o. I promise I’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, babe, but the longer you sit next to me watching all these girly shows, the more I can feel your muscles withering away.”

His mouth tweaked up. “Wow. Harsh.”

She offered a smile as fake as his. “Go catch some fish. I can always call you if I need you, but I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

He kissed her, and she watched as he exited onto the back deck then down to the dock.

Dan wasn’t okay. She’d sensed that a little more each day.

Sure, he was grieving, and Sarah knew not everybody grieved the same way, but she sensed he was distancing himself from God.

She understood that only too well, and was determined not to make the same mistake again.

God was the only thing she could cling to right now.

Dan was great for reassuring hugs and cuddles, but right now, despite his muscular physique, he seemed to have little else.

She hoped fishing, something he’d always loved, would help, even though he’d be alone with his thoughts.

Maybe God could speak to him on Lake Muskoka.

Heaven knew Dan needed God. Just like she did.

She really needed God to be her strength, because neither she nor Dan had much of their own.

She moved to the living room, to the piano placed in the corner.

She sat on the piano stool and placed her phone on the top of the piano.

After opening her recording app, she swished through until she found the recording of the song she’d started to sing at the apartment’s mini studio in Toronto.

Oh, how poignant were the words now. How much more did her spirit now need those words to be true.

She pressed play, closed her eyes, and listened to the song she’d begun a week ago.

“I know You love me. I’ve seen Your grace so many times.

Your faithfulness surrounds me. You gave me this hope I feel inside.

I will not worry. Because I know that You’re always there.

Nothing can come between us. Because Your love is…”

She listened to the joy in her voice, recorded only a few days ago when everything had been going well. Were these truths still true today?

Of course they were. Technically. But she didn’t feel like it was true though.

Her heart was like a stubborn rock that refused to move.

Not encased in ice like it was the first time she’d escaped Australia and come to Muskoka.

Things weren’t that bad yet. Which was exactly why she needed to sing these words again now.

She pressed pause, then played the recording from the beginning, this time joining in, in a tentative, raspy voice.

Then she sang it again, this time without the music, just her voice, in a version that was slower, more raw, more real, where every word felt like another sword against the emotions that threatened to sink her to the bottom of the lake.

“I know You love me.” She did know that. She knew it.

“I’ve seen Your grace so many times…” Oh, how true. She had seen God’s grace, over and over again. Grace with her salvation, grace with the accident, with her family, with Dan, over and over again.

“Your faithfulness surrounds me—” Amen.

“—You gave me this hope I feel inside.” Well, maybe she didn’t feel much hope right now, but she knew it resided within her all the same. That’s what the Holy Spirit did. He lived inside her, feeding and fueling hope when she had none of her own.

“I will not worry.” Her voice sounded so weak as she said that. But it was true. God said in the Bible not to worry, to be anxious for nothing. Lord, I give You all my worries. Worries for Dan, for our marriage, for my health. Take it all.

“Because I know that You’re always there.” Thank You God. You never leave us or forsake us.

“Nothing can come between us…” According to Romans chapter eight, neither death, nor life could separate believers from God’s love, so not even a miscarriage could.

“Because Your love is…”

She paused at the as-yet unwritten chorus. How could she describe God’s love?

God’s love hadn’t changed just because her circumstances had. God’s love remained sure, secure, wide, and immovable. How could she describe it in a song that could be sung by believers around the world?

“Lord give me words to describe Your love.”

She closed her eyes, her heart catching as she recalled past conversations and past vistas, here in Muskoka and elsewhere.

Discussions about the height and breadth of God’s love, how His mercy was like the stars in the heavens, vast and immeasurable.

God’s love was so huge, yet tender and so personal, like right now, as if God had gently pressed His finger on her soul as words sprang to life.

She pressed record, and played through the song again, and this time when she reached the chorus she kept going, those images still in her mind, stirring her spirit.

“Because Your love… is great. Your love is beautiful.” Her throat caught. “Your love so undeserved. Your love stretches out forever to me.” Yes, God, yes God, it does, I know it.

“Your love is not contained, I see the evidence each day. Your love means all the world to me.”

Her eyes pricked, moisture sliding under her closed eyelids. Her hands moved into the chords as if they knew where to go. Oh, she loved it when music just flowed, like a ribbon from heaven through her soul and out onto the piano’s keys.

She went back to the start, tweaking the chords as she went. It was important to make worship songs like this singable for a congregation, not just for her. A few more adjustments, and she played it through again.

“…Your love means all the world to me.”

She paused. She could end it there, or add something else. A bridge was always a good way to reinforce the most important message of a song. And right now, she needed to reiterate this part, especially when her emotions still felt all over the place.

She pressed record again. “There is nothing I can do, to make You love me more or less.” She didn’t have to be good enough to deserve God’s love. Neither did Dan. They were imperfect people, made righteous because of Jesus.

“I’m created as Your child.” Her eyes blurred. God’s child. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Wanted. Loved. Designed by God for His purposes. Not an accident. And because she was God’s child, that was why she could sing with sureness, “So You love me. Yes, You love me.”

She repeated it, as an image of her child, her lost child, swelled in her mind.

Oh, she might have lost that child, but God was with her reminding her that she was God’s child, and nothing could take that away.

She was loved because she was God’s child.

As was everyone else. For if God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, then surely that meant He loved all people, that He’d created them, that He wanted a relationship with all?

If people only knew that God loved them, that He wasn’t some scary ogre in the sky, then surely more would turn to Him and live His way.

People like Helen and Andrew, Luke and Marguerite, even Dan’s brother Sam, who didn’t seem to be walking with God too closely these days. Oh, how they needed to know God’s love.

She exhaled, and bowed her head. “Lord, I don’t know what You want to do with this song, but let it be a blessing to others.”

After swiping away yet more tears, she sang the bridge again, reminding her soul of the truth of God’s word.

There was nothing she could do for God to love her more.

Writing great songs sung by Christians around the world wouldn’t do it.

Being a good Christian wouldn’t make God love her more.

He just loved her. And similarly, there was nothing she could do that would make Him love her less.

Nothing, death nor life, nor tragedy or triumph.

She could walk away like the prodigal son and God would still love her.

God’s love didn’t change. Because God’s love wasn’t based on her actions, but on His character. And God was love. “God, You are love.”

She exhaled shakily. Oh, how powerful were these truths, powerful that she needed to hear them now, needed to be reminded of their truth. God was so good.

She might still be crying at her loss, but loss didn’t change the fact that God still loved her, and He was here right now, holding her up, restoring her soul. Oh, praise God that praising God was like a balm to her spirit, and could set one free from the depths of pain.

* * *

Dan tied up the boat, surprised to hear faint music coming from the house.

Sarah was playing the piano? It felt like years since he’d heard her play.

Fishing had been pointless. He’d tried to tell Sarah that, but she must have wanted him out of the house or something.

He’d been concerned about leaving her alone, but she’d insisted, so he’d given in.

He didn’t want to be the cause of any more angst for his wife.

These past few days he’d tried to be super careful, taking care of the meals, the cleaning, doing whatever she wanted and letting her rest, taking care of everything so she could concentrate on getting better.

But he got the feeling that despite his efforts, she was still worried about him, which might be why she’d suggested he have a break.

That’d be just like her, still trying to put his needs above hers.

But he didn’t want her worrying about him.

Not when all her energies had to be on getting better.

The music drew him forward, just as it had all those years ago when he’d first heard her sing next door at John and Angela’s, and he hadn’t been able to stay away.

Sarah might’ve sung in stadiums and arenas where he’d played games, but she never seemed to understand the magical pull her voice possessed.

She just shrugged and said singing was just part of who she was.

Which was what made this moment significant.