More than one child died in an automobile accident today. Somewhere a man in despair took his own life. In
How do we explain such things to young minds and hearts when it makes no sense to our seasoned minds and hearts?
Some blame God. Some blame mankind. Hate mounts, even among citizens of the same national and familial origin.
As a youth I asked many questions of religious leaders, particularly the ones I grew up around. I asked about pain and suffering. I asked about the early unreasoned death of a child with cancer. I asked and then I asked some more.
I was pointed toward the writings of C.S. Lewis. I was pointed to the words of Jesus. I was told it didn’t matter; all that matters is recognizing that God knows. I was looked at with blank looks that hoped the ceiling might catch on fire to divert attention from my question.
I dismissed the ‘it doesn’t matter' answer as searchers sloth and spiritual surrender.
I’m still asking and searching.
Fragments of maps litter my path. Pieces of map that point toward another part of the map I can’t find. Nightmares wake me in the darkness. Light illuminates a thought until I think I might hold the thought in my pen, only to find it is quicker than ephemeral, evaporating like vapor escapes into the sky. I squeeze my eyes to focus my brain, but it is gone again, this vapor of understanding that teases me and then turns resolutely to punishment.
We pick up the glass from the pavement and we scrub the walls. We search for the gunman. Day after day. Week after week. Then we leave earth and the others follow behind to do our work, leaving us resembling a retired employee never missed.
I know God will not give me the answer unless I search. Maps litter the path I have walked; more wait to be unfolded. I look to the earth and shed tears for those whom we would answer, 'it doesn't matter.'