Why? - Part 2

Good morning day. Are you here already? 

I'm awake at 4:30am... again. I confess it is usually my cat, waking me up, wanting to get out for good hunting before the sunrise... But often, like this morning, I wake up on my own, expecting to see Lynn at the foot of our bed, leaning over the dresser drawer, getting dressed for an early run. It is still as natural as the morning sun to me. I used to tell him how much I loved to go to sleep beside him, to end the day with him. But, he always preferred the mornings, having someone to wake up to...

...no known cause... no known cause...

I feel a little numb. I spent some time arranging details for the girls cardiologist appointments, went through some other paper work, mailing, registrations that needed to be sent in. The girls were their usual awesome selves, with strange episodes here and there like Roya throwing off the cover on the tank of our new toilet so she could see what it looked like inside when it flushed, sending the cover smashing to the floor... Then, getting out to run errands in the morning (which never happened), but not leaving until noon, so packing a quick lunch to eat at the park, then never leaving the park, Alea's foot being stung by a bee, Roya running away again so that I actually got in the car, (Alea already in her seat and buckled), and drove "around the circle" in the parking lot, actually hoping to terrify my child so she would stop running away and stay with me in public places, or just come when I say it is time to go... but it didn't work.  She didn't even notice. (Roya is the most tender and gracious child and seems to behave perfectly for most other people. With her Mama, though, she knows she has a safe place to vent all her frustrations and anger, so sometimes we have a few difficulties...)

While we were at the park, (supposed to be running stupid errands), another mom looked up and shouted at me, Look! A fire! Look at the fire!  I slowly turned as I heard sirens behind me and saw the large mass of smoke lifting up into the sky just blocks away in the neighbourhood across the street. I felt I was suppose to react, at least to offer an Oh my, that's awful! but couldn't manage it. I had no emotion to conjure up over a possible tragedy somewhat nearby, but not directly effecting our lives at all. It's the most embarrassing thing sometimes, this lack of feeling. Sometimes, compassionate feelings are there and genuine. Other times, I fake it. Today, I could not.

Why? Why do others get the luxury of speaking so casually about death? To say things like, Oh my, did you hear?? Well, I heard that... Isn't that just awful. So sad.  Why do other families live normal North American lives, worrying about their net worth and which daycare to use? Why do other couples grow old together, go on dates, enjoy the comfort of each other's company (or their endless complaints about each other...), when I am forever tortured by my missing half. Why do other children get to run up to their Daddy and laugh and giggle, climb up his legs and swing around? When my children have to process grief, grapple with why Daddy died when there is no answer, try to grasp how he could be in heaven but cannot come back to us, and have to undergo tests just in case, causing more and more nightmares, knowing that they might die too...?

...no known cause... no known cause...

The truth is, I am not angry. I feel powerless. Powerless to save my husband. Powerless to protect my children from harm. Powerless to will life to be one way when it is in fact another. I am powerless to fill the void Lynn left in our lives, to accomplish everything on my own... To keep our family unscathed and un-scarred by the mark of death on our lives... I am powerless.

But we see [Jesus], who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone. (Heb 2:9)

There He is, Jesus... standing above the tumultuous waves, arms wide open, watching me. In my spirit, I hear Him say, Peace, my daughter, Peace be still. Come to me. Fix your eyes on me, the author and finisher of your faith. I am the Way the Truth and the Life. All your answers are found in my peace that reigns over the flood. 

Silly me. I am always trying to reign over my own flood, keep my life together, stay on top of it... Why? Why do I still do that, as id I had any semblance of control? Why does any of it matter when a life so precious can be swept up to glory in an instant, leaving a broken family to struggle without him? What is there left to hold onto? What else could be sure and secure, if for no reason, it can all be swept away?

But we see [Jesus], who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone. (Heb 2:9)