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It's been a rough year or so up in my neck of the woods. Our church lost two babies to SIDS and two young mothers to cancer, a statistic that would be less shocking in a larger community, but slices right through the heart of a tiny town like ours. My family lost a grandfather to kidney failure and an uncle to bladder cancer. The Wall Street debacle flushed what was left of a local economy that had been in the toilet since shipping dried up in the late fifties, devastating the homes, bank accounts, and job security of those of us clinging like barnacles to the shallow, rocky soil our masochistic Swedish ancestors dug their plows into.
And that’s all on top of the ongoing, everyday problems of living in a broken world. I spent most of last night lying awake, listening to my autistic son cry in his sleep, cleaning up the mess created by a GI system that just can't absorb food properly. Somewhere between awake and asleep, set to the dissonant sound of my son’s distress, I remember thinking, "It's not fair, God. It's just not fair."
It's true. It's not fair. Yet in some ways it is fair, brutally fair. God causes the sun to shine and the rain to fall on the righteous and the wicked, (and heaven knows we're all more than a little bit of both!) and didn't shrink back from experiencing all the joy and pain of being human when he came to earth in the person of Jesus, a baby born into poverty and oppression, into the hopeless mess of humankind.
Why does a loving God allow bad things to happen? Why do we even ask? We have bought into the myth that we are entitled to an easy life, that it's God's job to smooth our paths and make them straight, to protect us from the fall-out of simply being human. Life wasn't so great for Jesus, or his family, or his disciples, either. Why? Because God was mad at them? Because God didn't care? Because they didn’t have enough faith? Because God blinked, and something slipped by him? No. Life was hard for them because in the words of the bumper sticker, shit happens, and sometimes it happens to us. No one is immune.
The Western world is addicted to comfort. We cruise down the path of least resistance in our climate-controlled SUVs, singing along to our favorite Christian radio stations, but what happens when we hit a bump in the road and get a flat, when we start leaking oil and burn up our engine? Do we set the emergency brake, lock our doors, shake our fist-clamped cell phones at the sky and wait for God to show up with a tow truck? Or do we climb off our high-horse, join the ranks of suffering humanity, and start putting one foot in front of the other in the direction of home?
I babysat a lot as a teenager. When I was fifteen a family I sat for, the Muirs, decided to take in a foster baby who had been born without a brain. When Karen, the mother, told me what they were planning to do, I was angry. That baby was going to die, and everyone knew it. Why would they put themselves through the pain of becoming attached to a baby who was doomed from the get-go? Why would they put their children through that pain? "But Jenny," Karen reasoned, "Don't you think he has a right to be loved, too?" I supposed I did, but not at the expense of people I loved. Not at the expense of causing them pain.
It was not until little Emory's funeral, just over a year later, that I began to realize the impact his life had had. Not because of anything he had done-because really, there wasn't much he could do, besides breathe, suckle, and mess his pants, and even those were iffy-but because of the way he had been loved. Because of the Christ-like way the Muirs embraced the blessing and suffering of this tiny bit of beautiful, broken humanity, claiming and redeeming it for a greater purpose, and received more in return than they could ever have imagined.
What did I learn from Emory and the Muirs? That pain is not something to be avoided. That suffering and blessing more often than not come wrapped in the same package. That sometimes, it's enough to be loved by a heartbroken God who came to claim and redeem us for a greater purpose. Sometimes, it's just enough.
It's been a blessed year or so in our neck of the woods. May the love, peace, and joy of a God who knows what it is to suffer sustain us all through the next, and lead us safely home.
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Jenny, this is a great article. I love your honest insight and the way you tackle this truth so head on and on target! Thanks.
Amen.
Jenny, This is a great article. I certainly identify with many of the thematic elements therin. I, myself, have muddled through the tornado-like wreckage left in the wake of my own autistic child. For many years, my first action in the morning was, not to make coffee or shave...no; it was to go get the bucket and sponge to clean up what I instinctively would be on the walls in his room. The list goes on. Jesus, himself, said something quite poignant regarding what we face as humans. he said this:
"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." -John 16:33
Isn't that great news?
T. Michael Cart T.R.U.T.H. in Ministry
Jenny, only someone who has experienced suffering first hand could write this. Thank you for cutting to the chase and avoiding the standard philosophical wanderings about "Why?" As you said, sh*t happens and we are in the foxhole together - many around are also taking bullets and the casualties are horrific. What a healthy perspective you have shared with us. I have begun to notice that somehow those who manage to avoid real suffering seem less "solid" with fewer admirable character qualities - there just seems to be a depth and strength to those who navigate these waters. Thanks again for sharing your insights. Dave
Jenny, thanks for sharing your heart and experience in this article. As one who begins a six month regimen of chemotheraphy next week, I find your words quite encouraging. THANKS!
Hey, thanks everybody for all your kind comments, and for sharing your hearts right back. Rob, I hope everything goes very well for you; that you'll be especially aware of God's presence, and that the chemo will do what it's supposed to do!!!
Good article.
I lost a daughter -- we had identical twins and lost one two days after birth while the other turns nine months old today. I have certainly wrestled with Why?!! One never gets to the bottom of that question... We rejoice that Rebecca is with us and doing well at the same time we mourn for Hope whom we lost nine months ago this week.
This paragraph from your article really resonated for me:
"Why does a loving God allow bad things to happen? Why do we even ask? We have bought into the myth that we are entitled to an easy life, that it's God's job to smooth our paths and make them straight, to protect us from the fall-out of simply being human. Life wasn't so great for Jesus, or his family, or his disciples, either. Why? Because God was mad at them? Because God didn't care? Because they didn’t have enough faith? Because God blinked, and something slipped by him? No. Life was hard for them because in the words of the bumper sticker, shit happens, and sometimes it happens to us. No one is immune."
Though perhaps I have at times thought all the other reasons you list were the reason our daughter died, ultimately the best answer I have for, "Why God, why?!" is that when we live this Earthly life, as you put it, "shit", as it were, will happen and being a follower of God certainly does not exempt one from having to deal with the excrement of life -- Jesus was born amidst animal excrement no doubt.
Maybe the writer of Ecclesiastes summed it up well when he wrote:
"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the Teacher. "Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless."
But I think this writer was getting at something when he goes on for several chapters talking about how so much of life is meaningless. I think he understood and I hope we understand as a follower of Christ what gives it all of life (the good, bad, and the ugly) meaning is God. In Christ we do have a HOPE that others don't have when they face tragedy; Christ has overcome even death itself and we likewise can overcome. Life isn't meaningless; it isn't a series of random stuff thrown our way.
The tragedy of a loss is no less tragic because we are Christian, but we cling to a belief that there is a meaning or purpose to the suffering even when we haven't the foggiest notion what it is. We recognize that we can't control the circumstances that come our way, but we can control how we respond to them. When "shit" happens in life we can choose to wallow in it and complain to everyone that will listen about the stinch, or try and move forward despite it's presence. We believe that God can use even a tragedy (and Hope's death was and will always be such) to achieve his purpose.
My daughter lived two days before passing from life support to life eternal, but her impact lives on. Her brief life impacted us all. My wife and I are different people today than we would have been if she were not born... and no doubt different people than we would have been if she had survived. Things have been unearthed in my life that needed to be bought into the light for a long time, but they might have remained buried forever if Hope did not die. Though the grief both from losing Hope and the other things that have come about is painful, I believe it serves a purpose in making me better equipped for the future God has for me.
"What does not destroy me makes me stronger." Wisdom from Conan the Barbarian.
Alan,
I am so sorry. :'-( That is heartbreaking--it sounds as if your Hope had similar problems to Emory.
I remember hearing someone speak on Romans 8:28: in all things God works for the good of those who love him. They made the point that it doesn't mean God MAKES bad things happen, or that the bad things are necessarily "blessings in disguise," but that God is a redemptive God, and can turn any circumstance, no matter how horrible, into an opportunity for redemption. That in the same way Satan perverts things God created to be beautiful and wonderful, God can take horrible, marred circumstances and make them beautiful again, in his time. So we can have Hope.
But in the meantime, I am still so, so sorry for your family's pain.
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Jenny, this is a great article. I love your honest insight and the way you tackle this truth so head on and on target! Thanks. Posted by Naomi Musch | Posted at 12/24/2008 11:59 AM
Amen. Posted by Kristen Bustrak | Posted at 12/24/2008 8:24 PM
Jenny, This is a great article. I certainly identify with many of the thematic elements therin. I, myself, have muddled through the tornado-like wreckage left in the wake of my own autistic child. For many years, my first action in the morning was, not to make coffee or shave...no; it was to go get the bucket and sponge to clean up what I instinctively would be on the walls in his room. The list goes on. Jesus, himself, said something quite poignant regarding what we face as humans. he said this:
"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." -John 16:33
Isn't that great news?
T. Michael Cart T.R.U.T.H. in Ministry
Posted by T. Michael Cart | Posted at 12/31/2008 10:45 AMJenny, only someone who has experienced suffering first hand could write this. Thank you for cutting to the chase and avoiding the standard philosophical wanderings about "Why?" As you said, sh*t happens and we are in the foxhole together - many around are also taking bullets and the casualties are horrific. What a healthy perspective you have shared with us. I have begun to notice that somehow those who manage to avoid real suffering seem less "solid" with fewer admirable character qualities - there just seems to be a depth and strength to those who navigate these waters. Thanks again for sharing your insights. Dave Posted by Dave | Posted at 01/19/2009 9:19 PM
Jenny, thanks for sharing your heart and experience in this article. As one who begins a six month regimen of chemotheraphy next week, I find your words quite encouraging. THANKS! Posted by Rob Robinson | Posted at 01/31/2009 1:41 PM
Hey, thanks everybody for all your kind comments, and for sharing your hearts right back. Rob, I hope everything goes very well for you; that you'll be especially aware of God's presence, and that the chemo will do what it's supposed to do!!! Posted by Jenny Rae Armstrong | Posted at 01/31/2009 2:08 PM
Good article.
I lost a daughter -- we had identical twins and lost one two days after birth while the other turns nine months old today. I have certainly wrestled with Why?!! One never gets to the bottom of that question... We rejoice that Rebecca is with us and doing well at the same time we mourn for Hope whom we lost nine months ago this week.
This paragraph from your article really resonated for me:
"Why does a loving God allow bad things to happen? Why do we even ask? We have bought into the myth that we are entitled to an easy life, that it's God's job to smooth our paths and make them straight, to protect us from the fall-out of simply being human. Life wasn't so great for Jesus, or his family, or his disciples, either. Why? Because God was mad at them? Because God didn't care? Because they didn’t have enough faith? Because God blinked, and something slipped by him? No. Life was hard for them because in the words of the bumper sticker, shit happens, and sometimes it happens to us. No one is immune."
Though perhaps I have at times thought all the other reasons you list were the reason our daughter died, ultimately the best answer I have for, "Why God, why?!" is that when we live this Earthly life, as you put it, "shit", as it were, will happen and being a follower of God certainly does not exempt one from having to deal with the excrement of life -- Jesus was born amidst animal excrement no doubt.
Maybe the writer of Ecclesiastes summed it up well when he wrote:
"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the Teacher. "Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless."
But I think this writer was getting at something when he goes on for several chapters talking about how so much of life is meaningless. I think he understood and I hope we understand as a follower of Christ what gives it all of life (the good, bad, and the ugly) meaning is God. In Christ we do have a HOPE that others don't have when they face tragedy; Christ has overcome even death itself and we likewise can overcome. Life isn't meaningless; it isn't a series of random stuff thrown our way.
The tragedy of a loss is no less tragic because we are Christian, but we cling to a belief that there is a meaning or purpose to the suffering even when we haven't the foggiest notion what it is. We recognize that we can't control the circumstances that come our way, but we can control how we respond to them. When "shit" happens in life we can choose to wallow in it and complain to everyone that will listen about the stinch, or try and move forward despite it's presence. We believe that God can use even a tragedy (and Hope's death was and will always be such) to achieve his purpose.
My daughter lived two days before passing from life support to life eternal, but her impact lives on. Her brief life impacted us all. My wife and I are different people today than we would have been if she were not born... and no doubt different people than we would have been if she had survived. Things have been unearthed in my life that needed to be bought into the light for a long time, but they might have remained buried forever if Hope did not die. Though the grief both from losing Hope and the other things that have come about is painful, I believe it serves a purpose in making me better equipped for the future God has for me.
Posted by Alan Ward | Posted at 02/02/2009 11:36 AM"What does not destroy me makes me stronger." Wisdom from Conan the Barbarian.
Alan,
I am so sorry. :'-( That is heartbreaking--it sounds as if your Hope had similar problems to Emory.
I remember hearing someone speak on Romans 8:28: in all things God works for the good of those who love him. They made the point that it doesn't mean God MAKES bad things happen, or that the bad things are necessarily "blessings in disguise," but that God is a redemptive God, and can turn any circumstance, no matter how horrible, into an opportunity for redemption. That in the same way Satan perverts things God created to be beautiful and wonderful, God can take horrible, marred circumstances and make them beautiful again, in his time. So we can have Hope.
But in the meantime, I am still so, so sorry for your family's pain.
Posted by Jenny Rae Armstrong | Posted at 02/02/2009 2:24 PM