The Why's

One of my first stages of grief was to try to figure out 'why'. I did it every time my dad's cancer came back and after he passed away.

Why did MY dad get sick?
Why did a GOOD man have to die young?
Why did God do this to OUR family?

The 'why' questions are filled with anger and rage and come from a place where I don't want my heart to reside. So I worked hard to surround myself with scriptures like Jeremiah 29:11 and Isaiah 41:10 and let myself work through that phase as fast as possible.

Then when a friend had a verbally abusive, alcoholic dad the questions crept back in. Why not him? Wouldn't a kid be better off with no dad than one who hurts her?

I had to remind myself it's not my job to play God and that there is a plan. There's a reason; a purpose. I didn't know the reason and I didn't need to. I just needed to trust.

There have been brief moments in the last 6 or so years when I have began to wonder why, but these instances have stemmed more from sadness and pain. Why wasn't my dad at my wedding? Why didn't my dad get to meet his grandson? Why will he miss the rest of these moments in the lives of his family? I wasn't angry or doubting God's plan, and the moments were short lived. But I still wanted to understand why.

Yesterday, though, I found myself as angry as ever. Yesterday I helped a friend pack up her entire house and prepare to move 2000 miles away. She has 3 kids with 3 separate bedrooms to pack. She had a basement full of stuff. She had A LOT of stuff and she is moving it all across the country by herself. She was on a short timeline and has been up to her hair in paperwork and legal logistics for the last month, so the house hadn't been prepared. I was more than happy to help and my organization kept the whole day in order, so I'm glad I could be there. But being there made me angry.

The reason she has had this whirlwind month is because her husband is in jail. Specifics can't be shared, but he is in jail on horrific counts and will hopefully be in jail beyond William's college graduation.

Why? Why do 3 kids have to grow up with their dad in jail? Why do they have to slowly learn of what he did that put him in jail? Why does a woman have to mentally and emotionally process the dissolve of her marriage and for reasons which no one can truly understand?

Then the killer question entered my mind: why couldn't he die?

I hate when I think this. I hate when I try to pick and choose who should have died in my Dad's place, but I can't help it. Why not this man?

My dad was a good person! He was a wonderful father and husband. He was a great friend. He was a Christian example. Why did he have to die while other people got to live?

A man ruined lives. People will be in counseling for years to come because of him. And HE got to LIVE? Why couldn't he suffer through 4 years of cancer and pain only to die in the end?

Why?

I left the house more angry than I'd been in over a decade. I prayed and called my mom and my brother. I talked to Austin and I prayed some more.

I don't want to be angry, and I know it will pass. But when my day comes I won't be asking God why I didn't get all the money in the world. I won't be asking why he made war and peace. I won't be asking why the sky is blue or the grass is green, or any of the other questions I've conjured up through the years. But I will be asking him why good people die while bad people continue to destroy lives.

Not because I don't trust him, but because I want to understand his plan.


- manda