Seven.

"She was raised on Easter Sunday, for You wanted her by Your side.

Just like our reigning Savior, You rose her with You on high.

The world is just a vapor, it's pains will soon be gone,

just like the seven minutes, You used to bring her home."

-Seven Minutes

Hannah Fenton was a 12 year old girl, full of joy, graced with love. Loved by her parents, sister Chelsea, and an innumerable amount of friends both young and old, she lit rooms everywhere she stepped.

Without warning, or any prior inclination, the Lord used seven minutes to bring Hannah home to him this past Easter Sunday.

I was hanging out friends Easter night when I got a text message from a friend in Glen Rose asking me to pray for Hannah, who had suffered a seizure, and her family. Having gone through nine seizures as a child, I said a quick prayer for Hannah, assuming all would be fine. I texted both of Hannah's parents and Chelsea, simply saying that I was praying and that I would love to help any way I could. The text was responded to ten minutes later as Chelsea called me, crying, telling me that Hannah hadn't made it.

My initial response was shock, followed by screaming internal expletives that my tongue wouldn't let escape my mouth. Surely, this couldn't be the case, the plan, the achievement of Glory. Yet, it was. The family was located at Cook's in Ft. Worth, which took me about fifteen minutes to get to. I did my best simply to listen, love, and be around. Tears were shed, hugs were given, stories were told. No one seemed to know what to say. How is there comfort? How is there joy? Yet, amongst all the brokenness, joy seemed to abound. Of course there was mourning, of course there were tears, yet the Lord seemed to have Sovereignly decreed that this family see his goodness and love.

Daryl, the father, had asked me to help lead music for the funeral which led me to spending most of Monday, and Tuesday down in Glen Rose with the family. During my stay with the family, the Lord was obviously moving among the family, and their and identity in the cross was like nothing I have ever seen. There was no anger, no bitterness, no hatred towards the Lord on high. There was no finger-shaking, or name calling of the Sovereign King. There was talk of a plan. His plan. And his glory. There was talk of love and memories. There was prayer, and encouragement. The Gospel moved, and Christ was pointed to as the Savior of the day.

In the wake of this, the Lord has placed some thoughts on my heart, soul and mind.

1. In all, and through all, the Lord will have his glory.

Don't ask me how this works, or what this looks like. I do have to believe, however, that a God who knows all, who sees all, who is not surprised or alarmed by any, and Sovereignly decrees things to come to pass, will have his glory in all things. If a family who lost their 12 year old daughter can proclaim this with joy, you and I are without excuse.

2. The Gospel doesn't win with your fists.

I think this speaks for itself...

3. Speak less, listen more, and love lots.

The last thing I felt comfortable doing in my attempt to comfort the Fenton's was opening my mouth. I think I've learned that the last thing someone wants to hear is that you know how they feel. Give more hugs than words. Just a thought.

4. Joy is found in the cross alone.

Without the cross, we have no hope, and all we have is shame. This past Easter Sunday, Hannah Fenton was reconciled to Christ by the cross, through the cross, in Christ alone. In hours after Easter evening, there was no other thought that impulsed more joy than Christ, and him crucified. His death brought her life through her death.

The Monday after Hannah's death, I wrote a song with Chelsea, that can now be found on my NoiseTrade. I have been raising support for the family by asking friends and family to donate money (a "tip") in exchange for the song download. The song is available for free, but if you feel inclined to bless the Fenton's any monetary amount will be a blessing. Please give.

NoiseTrade Link: https://www.noisetrade.com/mattallen#

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of all mercies and all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." (2nd Corinthians 1:3-4 ESV)

"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light and momentary affliction is achieving for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen, but the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." (2nd Corinthians 4: 16-18 ESV)

May the Word move in you, and though you.

To Him be the Glory

-Matt Allen