Found this little poem in a book laying around in the sacristy of the chapel at camp.
For every pain we must bear,
for every burden, for every care,
there’s a reason.for every grief that bows the head
for every teardrop that is shed,
there’s a reason.For every hurt, for every plight,
for every lonely, pain-racked night,
there’s a reason.But if we trust God, as we should,
it will turn out for our good.
God knows the reason.— Author unknown