I am a person of faith. When the world seems like nothing but slammed doors, sealed windows, insurmountable obstacles, somehow I still know there is hope b/c I believe in God, in Jesus, in the Holy Spirit. I have had a lot of sadness in my life, and some of it has brought me to my knees in both the literal and figurative sense, but I have also had a lot of miracles, and I will not let go of my faith. As I say to my kids who struggle with a belief in something/someone unseen- what if? I mean, isn't it better to believe? You're never truly alone that way. And, if there is a reward in the end (which that part has never really mattered to me)- bonus!
But, all that said, then I read something like what I did today about the 15 month old falling 15 metres to his death from the Departures area at Pearson Int'l Airport. According to the accounts, his parents were right there, his mother had been holding him- it was a freak accident. And, that's where I am struggling.
A freak accident.
But, God could have prevented it. Omnipresent, omnipotent- everywhere at once, all powerful. So why is a an inncoent child whose parents were right there, who I assume loved him, doted on him, prayed for him the way that I do for Malía allowed to die and in such a horrific way?
That I do not get.
That makes me angry.
That brings up memories that hurt. Times God could have done it differently for me, too. For those I love. And, I struggle. I waver. I feel guilty, which as a Catholic, Portuguese WOMAN is par for the course, anyway, but still uncomfortable to my heart, my soul.
As I said, I pray for my daughter every day. I pray for my parents, for everyone that I love, and sometimes even for those that I do not. Yet, these things still happen. It revives fear in me that I am pretty good at encouraging to stay dormant, most days.
I wish I had real, concrete, solid, undeniable assurance that my baby will never fall from a Departure area (where we'll be December 16th- the exact same one this child was in), will never be the victim of an undetected viral infection (oh, Kaia...), will never go through the windshield of a car (sweet, Angela...), or any of the myriad of unexpected, horrible things that take children every single day.
But, I don't.
I don't.
And I hate it.
3 comments:
Oh my goodness that story is horrible :(
I am sorry I know that hurt- I cared for a baby for 3 years and because her skin was different then mine I was not allowed to adopt her- she was taken from me and murdered by her caregiver. I did not understand why God did not protect her and allow me to continue to care for her- somethings we just do not understand in this life and it is painful. Hug Malia tight tonight, some parents do not have that joy.
That is terrible. Makes me hug my kidlet a little closer.
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