Even after years of trusting and believing in God, doubts can overwhelm us. We ask, “If God is loving, why didn’t God stop the earthquake? Or would a loving God let that terrorist kill all those people?” In my book Fireweed, Renee cries out in anguish, “God, why didn’t you protect my mother? She was doing your work, caring for others.”
Sometimes our friends offer answers. They say, “God must have a reason.” Again in Fireweed, a well-meaning person tells Renee, “God must have needed your mother in heaven.” Renee responds in anger and misery, “No, I’m only fifteen. I need my mother more.”
In these toughest of times, when we feel as if God has abandoned us, no answers will wipe away our devastation. I remember planning the funeral for Sammy, a young child. I was devastated. What could I say? I prayed. I asked colleagues for help. I researched books on grief. In the end, all I had to offer was my faith.
I said, “Sammy’s death makes no sense. It feels so wrong. I’d like to roll back time so Sammy would still be with us. I can’t. I can offer only my faith. I believe in our loving God, who loves each and every one of us from conception. I believe that God still loves Sammy, who has gone on to a new life, a good life. I know nothing about this new life, but my imagination tells me that Sammy is having fun, laughing and playing and doing all his favourite things. The Bible tells me that in this next life there will be no more pain, no more illness for Sammy.”
I believe that God knows the pain of having a child die. God cries with us. I believe God offers us support and comfort through the people that surround us. With every hug and handshake, every stumbling word, others offer us God’s love. Through our pets, through books we read, God’s compassion comes to us.”
When Sammy’s service was over, his mother said to me, “I heard you say that you believed my Sammy is okay.” With tears streaming down her face, she continued, “You’d better be right!!!”
My statement of faith gave that hurting, desperate mom a thin string to hang onto. I did not ask her to believe. At that moment, faith for her felt impossible. What she could do was lean on mine. Sometimes, another’s simple faith can bring a drop of comfort in our vast ocean of pain.
Don’t be afraid to say, “I believe”. Belief stated honestly, with no expectation of another’s agreement, can sometimes bring comfort and new life.
Today’s Faith by Rev. Janet Stobie
