I am part of a loving and supportive Christian community of bereaved parents called While We are Waiting (whilewearewaiting.org). It is a safe place to tell my story, to hear the stories of others and to ask the hard questions that must be considered if we are ever to heal. So many of us are findng it difficult to face a new year without our missing child. Sometimes we wonder, “Where is God? ” and “Why MY child?”.
I believe that God invites us to ask our hard questions. It’s not like we can hide them from Him anyway. When we speak them aloud, we open our hearts to the healing power of His Spirit.
For most of my adult years I felt like I had a robust prayer life. I regularly interceded for my family, for my church, for missionaries and for the world. I’ve kept a prayer journal for over twenty years.
I felt connected to the God of the Universe.
But when Dominic died I felt like I lost that connection.
Of course, the first moments after hearing the news I screamed, “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” My foxhole prayer for divine intervention–make it stop; make it untrue; make it go away…
But it was true. It didn’t stop. And it hasn’t gone away.
As the reality of what happened sank in, I searched my heart for why.
Why did MY son die? What fault had God found in me that wasn’t covered by the blood of Jesus and demanded my son’s life as payment? Why were people who caused death and destruction and spread hatred and strife still walking around?
Did I, whose son died, pray less fervently or with less faith than the mother whose son lives?
So many people think that “good” Christians don’t ask, “why?” But I can’t find a compelling scriptural argument that supports this view.
The Psalmist asked, “Why?”
He often recited a litany of complaints that included his perception that God had abandoned him. But there is a turning point when the Psalmist focuses his heart and mind on the truth that:
God is sovereign;
God is faithful;
And God’s love endures forever.
I am thankful that before Dominic died I had a habit of praying and reading Scripture. I am thankful for the many verses that are so ingrained in my thoughts that they come, unbidden to my mind.
So I have continued to pray each morning, opening my journal and my Bible.
Even when I cannot feel the connection, I know God is there.
And by an act of will and in obedience, I turn my heart and my mind to acknowledge His sovereignty.
To trust His faithfulness.
And to run for safety to His enduring love.
As the deer pants for water, so I long for you, O God. I thirst for God, the living God. Where can I find him to come and stand before him? Day and night I weep for his help, and all the while my enemies taunt me. “Where is this God of yours?” they scoff.
Take courage, my soul! Do you remember those times (but how could you ever forget them!) when you led a great procession to the Temple on festival days, singing with joy, praising the Lord? Why then be downcast? Why be discouraged and sad? Hope in God! I shall yet praise him again. Yes, I shall again praise him for his help.
Yet I am standing here depressed and gloomy, but I will meditate upon your kindness to this lovely land where the Jordan River flows and where Mount Hermon and Mount Mizar stand. All your waves and billows have gone over me, and floods of sorrow pour upon me like a thundering cataract.
Yet day by day the Lord also pours out his steadfast love upon me, and through the night I sing his songs and pray to God who gives me life.
Psalm 42: 1-8 TLB