Scott Kamps
“Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).
The New Year is a moment to reflect on time as a gift from God, entrusted to us for His glory.
Pondering 2025, it’s apparent my year was overshadowed by the tragic death of my eighteen-year-old daughter. I echo the words Sarah Edwards penned after her husband’s death, “What shall I say? A holy and good God has covered us with a dark cloud.”
Understanding the difficulties of life are part of something bigger than us is an important truth that resolves existential dread/despair. Even more, recognizing that our lives are part of God’s infinitely wise plan and His good purpose guides what He providentially brings about gives hope beyond what our limited perspectives can make sense of. Entrusting myself to my Redeemer’s wisdom and goodness and His promises (Romans 8:28) is the only way I carry on.
These truths don’t make grief disappear; my eyes have been opened to the dark reality of misery in our fallen world in a new way – and its pervasiveness. As of late December, an estimated 63.1 million people died globally in 2025 – approximately 172,975 people daily (StatisticsTimes.com). Every year, 12,777 teenagers (between 15-19 years old) die in America (CDC).
My daughter was one of many children buried by parents in 2025 – even just one of many in Graham County. When I consider my heartache – realizing my experience of grief is reverberated by many others in this world – it’s overwhelming.
I resonate with what the hobbit, Merry Brandybuck, said to Elven guard Haldir (“The Lord of the Rings”), “I have never been out of my own land before. And if I had known what the world outside was like, I don’t think I should have had the heart to leave it.”
Haldir wisely responds, “The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
There are joys and trials as we walk down every mile of life. While my 2025 was overshadowed by dark clouds, there’ve been blue skies as well: my oldest son’s college graduation and beginning a career in actuarial science was one. Another highlight: my daughter graduated high school, became a CNA and began a vocation of serving others at the nursing home. And a young man – after getting my permission – proposed to her and she said, “Yes!,” so I look forward to a wedding in 2026.
I’ve never experienced a year with such exorbitant joys and sorrows. As I ponder what lies behind and look forward to 2026, I wholeheartedly sing the hymn, “Many things about tomorrow, I don’t seem to understand; But I know who holds tomorrow, And I know who holds my hand.”
May you know this peace as well.
Scott Kamps writes a bi-weekly column for The Graham Star. He can be reached via email, thestableguy@frontier.com.