All Things Work Together for Good?

In my last post, Wrestling with God’s Will After Losing a Child, I poured out my struggle to reconcile free will, God’s will, and the gut-wrenching pain of losing a child. I wrestled with how those forces coexist when tragedy strikes. But what happens when the tragedies keep rolling in? How can “all things work together for good” when loss feels like a fist to the face, unprovoked and unrelenting?

My wife and I have endured two miscarriages and a suicide, each a wound that time hasn’t fully healed. The second miscarriage, Emily, was shattering, not just for her loss, but for the hope she carried. Why did two of our children die before they could live? Why Emily?

Emily’s story began in 2009, after twelve grueling years of infertility. We had poured our hearts into conceiving, then into foster-to-adopt programs, only to face repeated heartbreak. Then three private placements fell through. When we finally adopted our daughter Madilyn, joy settled in, quiet but real. Then came Emily, a miracle conception. She wasn’t just a pregnancy; she was a thousand answered prayers, a spark of hope reignited after years of ashes. Her miscarriage after three months crushed us. A month later, on Christmas night, my business burned to the ground—a fire sparked by a forgotten coffee pot two buildings away. Grief piled on grief. Medical struggles, with no support to lean on, stretched us to the breaking point.

Sure, freewill played a role in the fire. But even without it, Emily’s loss and resulting medical problems would’ve broken us just the same. Freewill doesn’t explain her death or the years of pain that followed. It doesn’t answer why I’ve lost all three of my biological children or why medical issues have shadowed us for over thirty years.

I’m the kind of person who needs to know why. Why Emily? Why Alex or Caleb? Why this relentless cascade of losses? Why do some lives seem paved with ease while others are strewn with jagged stones? Not every tragedy flows from a choice, a sin, or a clear cause. The promise of Romans 8:28, “all things work together for good”, hangs over me like a question mark, sometimes a taunt. Yet, even in the ache, I cling to a stubborn hope. I don’t see the good yet, but I trust that God is weaving something beyond my sight—something that might one day redeem the pain, even if the why remains a mystery.