understanding the why

It seems just like yesterday that I got a phone call from a friend who told me that our dear friends Tom and Leah's, baby boy Zeke - just over a week old - had died.  He's been born with an undiagnosed cardiac problem.  He got a fever, was fussy and was just - gone.  I couldn't comprehend what I was hearing.  I'd seen newborn pictures of a chubby, red-cheeked baby just days before.  And he was gone.

And then, just about eight months later I got another call from the same friend.  Tom and Leah's son, Wyatt, just four and a half, had died in a tragic accident.  This could not be happening.  Not again.  Not to Tom and Leah.  But it did.

For months and months, I asked God "Why?"  I couldn't fathom His ways.  I couldn't understand why such hard, painful things had happened to two of the most faithful, wonderful people I'd ever been blessed to meet.  And it happened twice.  Why? Why? Why?  I couldn't make it through a Sunday worship without dissolving into tears.  And if I was having a hard time, how were Tom and Leah coping?

I knew they had a very close knit group of family and church friends, so I purposefully stayed away, thinking that perhaps it would be too hard to have to restart the grieving process with anyone outside that tight group.  And I wasn't sure I could be strong enough to be of any support.

Finally, after a year or so, I reached out to Leah.  I think for my own healing I had to see her.  To see Tom.  To see Cassidy, their daughter.  When Leah came over, I steeled myself, willing myself not to cry.  But I did.  And I apologized.  Leah said, "It's okay to cry."

Somewhere in all this confusion and constantly why asking, I came to realize that me trying to understand the why of every difficult situation is fruitless.  To know why would be to know God's ways, and His ways are unknowable.  I already knew that, to some extent.  But I didn't understand it.  More importantly, I didn't accept it.  Most humans are not wired to just kind of go with the flow.  We want answers.

And it's the hardest questions that have no answers.

Earlier this week, Kate was wrestling with the "why" of an issue.  I told her that life's most challenging whys are almost always answered in hindsight. It's when the other door is opened that the "aha" moment appears.

It may be the only time I've ever said anything that made sense to her.

Or maybe not.

Joyous Postscript:  Two years ago, Tom and Leah welcomed Emmy Lou to their family...and in September, another Baby Boy Blake will arrive...

"I will restore the years the locusts have eaten...God is ready to succor his people; and he waits to be gracious." - Joel 2:25