So, Lord, I took Your advice. And the results were wonderful! Two nights ago I listened to soothing instrumental music and watched this random youtube video of someone driving through Zion Canyon, just driving, with a video recorder mounted on their dashboard. The music seemed to match the mood of the landscape too; the songs changed, the scenery changed subtly and it was perfect. I went to bed both more buoyed in spirit and relaxed in body than I have for a long time. Then last night I just went to bed earlier, period. And that felt good, though I didn’t spend my usual time here, writing in dialog. So I didn’t post last night, because I was sleeping instead. But that seemed a wise choice at the time.
Now tonight I have something else weighing heavy on my heart and mind. And I am only a distant observer and imaginer, not close to this situation at all, other than by the fact that I am a human on this planet, and to some extent we are all in this thing, this thing called real life, together. And sometimes, God, may I just say, sometimes real life is pretty darned awful.
So I only know what I have read, but a four year-old boy was swept to sea yesterday, some rogue wave I guess, while his folks were right there and helpless to get him or save him. What I know from admittedly limited experience is that this family will never be the same. This isn’t something you get over, get past, or frankly get through. This is something you carry with you like a scourge, like a plague on your heart, for the rest of your life. And I am almost glad I don’t know the family, God, because I have no idea what anyone could say to them. Any words I can think of are empty. Worse than empty, they fill the empty space with nothingness. You are the Word. You said so Yourself. What in the world would You say, in the face of a tragedy like this? This isn’t even the tragedy of people making choices to hurt others; this is seemingly so random and so horrible. We humans with our little minds and our broken hearts, we want to cry out, why? and where are You? Where were You? And (if I may be so bold) how could You let this happen? I don’t believe You cause tragedies, God, but the randomness of something like this shakes all of us to our core, if we have a core, and especially if our core is centered in You. So what would the Word, the Good Word, say about all that?
Remember Lazarus. I wept there. I didn’t cause, I didn’t prevent, I wept. And then I raised him up, restored him to his family.
Yes, God, but this little boy didn’t get raised up, didn’t get restored. This family has to go on grieving and grieving and grieving. Their weeping doesn’t end. Their mourning doesn’t turn to joy.
You cannot see the glory this boy is raised into, now. But you will. When it comes your time, you will.
God, You have said I could ask You anything, tell You anything. Is that still true?
Of course.
It’s not fair, God. That is how this seems. Saying, oh, he is risen with You — that doesn’t comfort the bereaved on this side, Lord. It just doesn’t. Even Mary and Martha, when You said you would raise Lazarus, even they thought You meant at the end of Time, at the last day, and that did not comfort them, not really, in their right-here, right-now sorrow. You comforted them when You gave him back, whole and living, in the flesh. Just like You comforted Your disciples when You rose–not only in some hereafter, but here. Here, then after. It is the here that troubles me, God. What about here?
You have lived through loss. And you are here.
Yes, God, but that was different. That wasn’t this.
How so?
Well, first of all, the losses I am thinking of now were losses that could have been prevented, in the sense that they resulted directly from lifestyle choices, made again and again over many years, that caused harm to the body. That was even true of my Mom, Lord. I am not saying the choice to quit smoking, or quit heavy drinking, or even quit drugs, is easy. But it is a choice folks can make. This was, I have to say it again, God, so random. An accident. And I am still waiting for a Word from the Word, Lord. Is Wept the word?
Look it up.
Huh?
In the Greek. Look it up.
Ok. So Lazarus’ sisters were weeping loudly, lamenting, audible loud cries. That is what the Greek word means. It is a different word for Jesus’ weeping. It means to shed tears, but quietly. So?
Why do you think Jesus wasn’t wailing loudly?
I don’t know. Because He didn’t feel the loss as deeply?
You know better than that. Think back to your times of silent weeping, where you almost have no tears left. Why did Jesus weep, if He knew what He was going to do?
Because He felt their sorrow? His humanity identified with their humanity?
Yes, exactly. He didn’t weep for show, or for tradition; He wept in empathy.
Ok. So…I’m sorry, I feel especially dense. You have empathy. Couldn’t You have stopped this from happening in the first place? Doesn’t Lord mean, Lord of circumstances? Doesn’t that mean You are in charge?
Ah, no wonder you are torn between grief and anger, between wanting to draw closer to Me and wanting to hide. If I could have prevented such a thing and didn’t, doesn’t that make Me some kind of monster?
I don’t know what to say. It is what we fear–not that You are a monster, but that our not understanding can make You out to be Someone You are not. I just, we just, don’t understand.
Come here, little one. Shhh. Listen. What does it mean, for someone to be an earthly king? Is the king in charge of every household, of everything that happens in his kingdom? Or is the king the one who sets the overall values, the overall agenda if you will, by making laws or rules for behavior, especially behavior between his subjects?
That’s different. Kings are humans just like their subjects, only with more authority. They can’t be everywhere at once, they don’t have the power to make things happen, like controlling the weather. But You can. You are everywhere at once, and You do control the weather. Don’t You?
I Am not the Grand Puppeteer. Some folks want Me to be. Others fear Me to be. Still others are angry, assuming that I am, and blaming Me for things that I did not cause, things I Myself weep over.
So what does Your Lordship mean, then, if You are not in control?
Humans, most humans, are very interested in control. Most humans want to control others and bend others to their will, to their way of seeing things, to doing things the way they want them done. And other humans have their own sets of opinions or values. Conflict arises often, from petty disagreements to wars over territory, over resources, over control. This is not the kind of Lord I Am, One Who demands or enforces Control.
Rather, I Am Lord of Love. I Am Lord of Peace. My Values are Higher.
So what, may I ask, is loving or peaceful, about a little boy’s tragic and untimely death?
Nothing. Nothing is loving or peaceful in these moments focused on loss, for these parents. In their loss and bereavement, there is no peace. In ME there is peace. This is a paradox, hard to understand. But you have lived this, if you think and remember. You have lived times of great grief, of great sadness, where your loss of control nearly broke you in pieces, and yet you found the strength to continue to live because of your relationship with Me, because of My Peace given to you despite the circumstances. You found you could come and weep with Me. You found I Am Big Enough to carry both you and your sorrow, both you and your confusion, both you and your anger. I did not cause this tragedy. And I do not have the control over your world that you envision.
Then, Lord–I can still call You Lord, right?
Yes, as long as you remember what it is you are saying. You are really calling Me Your Heavenly Father, Your Heavenly Brother, Your Heavenly Companion.
Okay, then, why pray? Why ask You for anything? Or to do anything? I mean, I know why…because sometimes You do. I just feel like we ask and You answer, a lot of the time. You answer me, I know You do. So why wouldn’t You answer this mother, this father, and cause the tide to turn and bring their son back to them, tumbled and scared but otherwise not harmed? Why wouldn’t You say Yes to that kind of prayer? Why do children have to die?
Ah, there is the question. The real question. Why death? Why death at all? Why untimely death? Why tragic death? Why sudden death? My only answer won’t satisfy you tonight, but it you can carry this in your heart, you will feel a wee bit better in the morning. Death was never My idea. Not My plan, not My agenda, not My purpose. Death was not in My reckoning. I am Lord, yes, of Life. Of Everlasting Life. Death was never meant as the Gateway to that life. Originally, My Will, My Heart was for Life to expand into more life; human life to expand into spirit life; life in a body to expand into eternal life. Once death entered the equation, much was out of My Control. Humans don’t heed my warnings. Humans don’t even heed the warnings of other humans! Much harm comes through lack of discernment. So what is a God to do? Eternity, that’s what. Sweeping the dying up in My Arms, that’s what. Silencing tears and fears before they have a chance to grow even greater, that’s what. In every human family, for all I have no control over, as God, there is much I can still do, if humans invite Me in.
Thank You, God. I actually feel a little better about this already. Not a lot, You understand. Just a little. Just knowing (I am sorry to phrase it this way, but I admit I am really tired), just knowing You didn’t cause this, or that this wasn’t somehow Your idea, helps. And Lord, I have to ask You one more thing. I saw a rainbow, a brilliant rainbow, probably two hours later as I was driving towards Kitty Hawk. About 6 pm. I always think of rainbows as Your Promise, Your Promise of Your Presence. And I always think of the day–I thought of it yesterday–that our friends’ daughter who had been ill so long, the day she died, and how I asked You for a rainbow, for the parents, on that day, and the rains came and by the end of the afternoon, the rainbow came too. I actually thought about that yesterday, though I had no idea at the time what had transpired just a couple hours earlier. So thank You for the rainbow, God.
I do what I can, little one. As do you. Right now, try to rest. And don’t ever stop asking Me questions or telling Me how you feel.
Ok, Lord, I will try. Try to keep open, I mean.
Then you will do well.