Just this week I read a sweet little story about a young child whose kitten had just died even though she had prayed that God would not let this happen. Most of the adults in her life tried to comfort her by telling her that the kitten was now in heaven. Instead her grandmother tenderly held her and reminded her that when her grandpa was sick, she had done the same thing, but that God had not healed him either. The little one leaned into the warmth of her gramma’s shoulder and cried. When she was able to look up, she immediately noticed that her gramma was crying, too. In those moments, she knew that she was not alone in her grief. It seems to me that our faithful God invites us to sit with him and cry quite often. Is there any other better place of refuge?