I don't often ask God why. If I don't know the reason, I'm usually good at accepting that there is one and that it's a good one at that. With sweet Ayla, however, I have been asking. My asking hasn't been in defiance or rebellion, but rather my whys have been the result of deep-seated sorrow.
I hardly even know what to write, because so many thoughts have flooded my heart and mind these past two weeks. In my deepest moments of reflection I feel revelation penetrate my bones, revelation that says, Sorrow is holy. My words today will be few, for I feel that not only would I fail to write cohesively, but I also feel that these thoughts aren't meant to be shared fully on this forum.
I will conclude with this: Allowing ourselves to experience sorrow opens singular understanding of Christ's sacrifice, and sorrow on behalf of another refines and sanctifies our hearts. Sorrow begets empathy, which evolves into charity. Sorrow is divine, and when we experience it, we must allow it to transform our souls.