Life asked Death,
Why do people love me,
But hate you?
Death replied,
Because you are a beautiful lie,
And I am a painful truth.
One day when I was in kindergarten, I walked home from school to find a huge, gaping hole in our backyard. My dad had decided to dig a storm cellar because my older sister was deathly afraid of storms and went into hysterics every time the tornado sirens would howl. He thought having that hole under our back porch would calm her fears. It did better than that, it scared off all the tornadoes. Never in all the following years did we ever have to seek shelter from a tornado in that cellar. When I was young, I'd head down there with all my favorite stuffed toys, and some cheese and crackers every time the tornado watch ticker came across the bottom of the tv screen. It was a lark.
I no longer consider tornadoes a lark.
Not after Hoisington, Greensburg, Joplin, Moore x 2....
Not after I think of scared little kids who were counting down the hours until summer vacation, thinking of swimming pools and barbecues and tee-ball, huddled shoulder to shaking shoulder in a hallway.
I can't think of that without bursting into tears. A few more days and school would have been out.
Why?
My daughter-in-law went in for her scans today. They saw something.
Why?
Tonight I want to be in a bar with a bunch of others, our eyes peeled to the TV watching news reports of the tornadoes and motioning to the bartender to keep them coming until we forget why we're there. I want to drink until I no longer care why. I really do.
But God and I decided two years ago that now was the time I needed to be sober, I needed to be STRONGER.
I don't know why. I am afraid of what may be coming.
But I will stay strong and I will stay sober.
Because.
Oh love. Love love love. Sending love. You are such a much better mother-in-law, friend, sister, neighbour and partner now that you are sober. I know you know that, but I also know it sucks right now. This is the shit life sends. aarrrggghhh.. don't know what else to say. Sending love xxxx
ReplyDeleteHow do you comfort after such devistation? I am praying for your strength and committment. The two things that popped into my mind as I read what you wrote were, Lean not on your own understanding, and evil has a counterfeit to all of God's goodness. God says be faithful, evil inspires fear. God says to be still and know I am God. Evil ecourages us to never be quiet--to multi-task and sleep with the tv on. I'm still trying to figure out why bad things happen to good people, innocent people. When I do, those two thoughts are what come to my mind first. I just wanted to share.
ReplyDeleteI can't believe in a God that would let little ones suffer like that or be that afraid, just like at Newtown, I imagine that great winged angels came down and grabbed up those children and held them to their breasts as they winged upward away from all the devastation. It's the ones that survived that bear the scars, but they have the comfort of survival.
ReplyDeleteIf somehow we could convince ourselves that death is a reward, that is what we're supposed to believe, but that is so little comfort, such a ludicrous and hurtful solace to those that are left behind to suffer. Maybe if we could just manage to convince ourselves that those that are taken are taken before they suffer, that would at least be some comfort. I can't imagine being one of the parents in Moore or Newtown and thinking how scared my little one was, I can't believe God would let that happen.
I have not one molecule of the atom of the quark of an idea as to why things sometimes unfold as they do. I am not God. I can't even guess as to the design for life and how it gets doled out. Questions for the ages type of stuff. The suffering of children is stuff that cracks open my ribcage and rakes me over and over with broken glass. I can't imagine my own children taken from me. But I can't think of that. I can only think of what they leave us, daily.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, you were called two years ago to talk about this very thing, to inspire, to show compassion and love...even when it hurts. You are very special to bring us messages. God working through others.
What a wonderful thing.
Blessings,
Paul
I am so sorry about your DIL, Kary. How scary that must be for all of you.
ReplyDeleteAnd the storm in OK? Sigh. I grew up in OKC and have family and friends still in the area. It seems none of my nearest and dearest were injured or killed, but I've learned that friends of my friends were killed... It's all so tragic. Theodicy is the toughest thing out there, faith-wise, but little agnostic me has no answer. I suppose I don't really even ask the question any more. If there is a capital G God, his actions are far beyond my understanding, and that's okay.
Big big big hugs to you, you wonderful, strong, sober woman, you.
Lulu
The older I get the more I realize that life holds no guarantees that everything will always be OK or wonderful..in fact life never promised me anything. So I'm grateful for what I have and hopeful that life won't be too cruel. My son struggles with alcoholism which makes me even more aware of how fragile life is. Some storms we can't control...some we can...and some we do - one day at a time : D I think those who struggle with that daily storm are the bravest people I know : D
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