Unanswerable by fallible human understanding

Three and a half years ago, a happy couple, bound yet freed by a promise they gave to each other, raced from the little white building. The rice bounced off her flowing veil and dotted his brown hair. Others joyously watched the beginning of a lifelong union.
The Lord smiled from above: "I love you, My children."

The months flew past. The couple loved each other and wanted another to share their happiness with. However, despite their efforts, no child appeared. After the third miscarriage, it seemed impossible. Unable to do any more, the doctors moved on to their next time slots, and the couple quietly left the sterile white building.
The Lord sighed from above: "I love you, My children."

About three weeks ago, a small church family learned this couple that they cared for were finally granted a child. The people of the little white building bowed as one, thanking their Creator for bestowing deserved happiness to the couple.
The Lord rejoiced from above: "I love you, My children."

This past Thursday night, the father stood on dampened steps outside the sterile white building. His fist, watered by the rain streaming down, pounded against the lifeless marble. His lowered face was wet for another reason. He did not curse God, but demanded to know why it happened. Why his only child died a week after she was born.
The congregation of the sterile white building can offer no answers, only muted apologies.
The congregation of the small white building can offer no answers, only soft weeping.
The Lord whispered from above: "I still love you, My children."