 |
|
|
The Unexpected Answer
The quietness of the early morning sunrise was shattered suddenly by a sound emanating from a figure sorrowing in her swing in her backyard. Uncontrollable sobs finally reached enough of a crescendo to definitely awaken an entire neighborhood—especially if they happened to have stepped outside. Still the sobbing and tears flowed with no care of anyone’s quiet—or so thought a certain squirrel above her head in her majestic maple tree in front of her backyard prayer fountain.
“Oh, Lord, how could you take him? How could you let my son die? He was just now finding the good in life—a wonderful wife, a wonderful job, a lovely home—all the assurances that all his life I’ve so pleaded with you to give him. He was in his prime. He hurt so—oh, how he hurt. Why, why, Lord, if you loved him and I, did you allow his life to end in horrible, horrible cancer and treatments? How could you give us false hope in even one short remission?” And her bowed head looked up in accusation and hurt as she quieted enough in between sobs to continue: “And now—now—all is in vain. She dramatically repeated her same phrasing in a mantra of almost hatred toward God and his so called “Great Plan.”
On and on she ranted and raved with the first stage of grief. Sometimes it was quietly and other times offendingly noisy.
Then her prayer was answered with an amazingly uncomplicated reply.
“Snap!” “Boing!” Then she felt a hard thump on her head. The sudden hurt on her head made her look up—absolutely stunned by the occurrence. She looked quickly for the reason and saw in the grass at her feet a small broken limb. Following the trajectory of the missile she traced its path back to a very noisy chattering.
A squirrel was perched on a high limb above her head. It had decided to fuss just as loud as she—but about her shattering his peace and quiet.
A surprised laugh cut short her crying and verbal accusations. Then she a distinct thought entered her very hard head:
“Oh, my child, Jay is my son, too. He was my gift to you and now I need him.”
Her tears of relief came, too. But her depression and grief was alleviated slowly year, by year as the answer repeatedly came to comfort her. Now she could remember we are all God’s children first and his purpose for us all is for the good of all. Praise be to God!
“…Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted,” Jesus tells us all in his Beatitudes from the ‘Sermon on the Mount.’
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
