Yes.

And that's what makes suffering so intolerable at times. There's nowhere to go. There's no eject button. No way to abort. All I can do is sit here and take it.

Isn't this what theologians have written about for centuries? Our classic understanding of hell: Eternal Conscious Torment. Sure, this isn't eternal, but it feels that way, so it may as well be. I'm certainly conscious. And this is definitely torment.

The real difference is I believe there is an end. I do hope, and I do see this as a "light affliction," knowing that "the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to compared to the glory that will be revealed in us." I hope in JESUS while I miss my children.

I don't just miss them, I see them. I see my children everywhere. Not in a literal sense, of course, but I feel them like they're with me, even though they're not. I feel them in the cold breeze, and I think about them running around in their winter jackets, laughing. I see them when the sun goes down, and I think about what it used to be like to drive home after work to my beautiful wife cooking dinner, and my treasures telling me all about their day. I see them in familiar places, places I've been to a million times over with them. I feel Evangeline's tiny little hand touching my arm. I feel Abigail riding on my back as I carry her up to bed. I feel Nathan jumping around as I hug him. I feel Daniel sitting in my office chair with me while I send an email. I hear their voices; their voices never go away.

I went to Wendy's the other day. I sat at the same table Daniel and I sat at on May 9. I sat on the side of the table that Daniel was on, and I glided my hand across the table and thought about him. I haven't seen him since May 26.

In the darkest times, I feel like maybe I stole those years of joy with my children. Maybe I never deserved them to begin with? Maybe that afternoon with Daniel at Wendy's was the sort of life I forfeited years ago without even realizing it? Thankfully the darkest times aren't the most common times. I have to hope, or life really isn't worth living. I was once without Christ, having no hope and without God in this world. "But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ" (Ephesians 2:13).

Is life worth living? Absolutely. Because I'm one day closer to being with my children, and one day closer to being with Christ for eternity. It's also worth living because He's meeting me right here, right now. His right hand offers pleasures forevermore -- and forevermore begins this very second.