So, Kathy and I went to a funeral for a 3 year old on Christmas Eve. That sucked! Jessica was a healthy, happy, cute as a blonde can look at three.
She contacted E-coli, and two weeks later, after spending two weeks in the hospital, she died. So, we drove down to Chicago to share in the pain and hurt. It hurt. Bad. It hurts to even write these few words, and I'm not the dad who must be wheezing in pain.
So, as we listened to a Ray Bolz song as the family exited the memorial service, I lost it. I buried my face in my hands, and wept. I kept saying, "Where the hell where you?" Yea, I was lamenting. I was also mad as hell at God. I know he is God, but I don't know where he was. Period. I don't doubt that God is in control. I don't doubt that God is God. I don't question my faith or trust in God. I simply do NOT understand.
And to say that we will one day understand, or to say that God will make it all work out. NO! He will not! This pain will last for the lifetime of Ron and Cathy. They will hurt for the duration of the days that they live on this earth . They will see good come out of this, but they will never completely understand.
Here is a thought... perhaps we need to learn how to extend grace to God. It's not the kind of grace that needs forgiveness attached in the sense of needing his sins forgiven. Perhaps it's a kind of grace that says I will still trust in the midst of what he has allowed to happen.
... I want to give this some more thought...