Wednesday, June 4, 2008
I sat the with a couple as they held a newborn baby in their hands. They had waited for this child for months. They weren't physically able to have children. They had found the child's mother months before and had an agreement with her that they would adopt the child. Her life had not been pretty. Drugs, promiscuity and lack of direction had gotten her in this condition. She was very young and without much support to raise a child. Adoption seemed like a logical option.
Everything looked like an answer from God on the surface. . . but that's the surface. The child did not have a large portion of her brain. Her heart had only two valves. There were other medical problems. She wasn't expected to live more than a couple of hours. This couple held the child with great care. I watched their hearts break for this little one who would be with us for only a few hours.
We prayed and I thought, "Why, why, why God?" Surely this child was not conceived under the best circumstances but I felt sure that this couple would raise her with love. I felt this child would fill a hole in this couple's life. Now, it seemed that the hole had just gotten bigger.
Why does this happen? I don't know. Is that answer good enough? I don't know. Its the only answer I have.
I know that God loves us all. He doesn't love this child any less. I don't think the child's condition was punishment for the physical parent's lifestyle. The drug may have been the reason but it wasn't God's punishment.
Have you ever had those moments when you knew God was so close that you could speak to Him and almost hear Him audibly? Then, there are those times that you cry out and you only hear your own voice echo . . . after that, its just silence.
I have heard that God gives silence to those whom He can trust. I suppose that is where faith comes in. I have to keep believing during the silence.
When asked why bad things happen to good people my answer is consistent: I don't know. Is that good enough? I don't know. Its still the only answer I have.