I do not say this lightly, and I apologise if it offends those with deep religious beliefs. But consider this.
I have two cousins, both males; one is 19 and the other will be 15 in December. My younger cousin is a really nice kid. Helpful to his mum, always with a big smile, and never gets into the sort of sh*t most fifteen year olds do. He is no mensa, but quite good at school, and a great cricketer.
Well, several months ago, he started feeling off and bringing up his food. Off to the doctors, then off to have several scans, and they found a sizeable cancer on his oesophagus. Today he is haemorrhaging massively, and on morphine, and his mother is sitting by his hospital bed waiting for her youngest son to die (which will probably be in the next 24-48 hours).
I saw him a few days ago and he was barely strong enough to speak, but I tried talking to him about sport, and stuff he was interested in.
So yeah, I know there's loads more tragic stuff happening around the world, but a really nice kid like him having to go through all that pain and then die is surely no sign of a Divine Being who cares for us. I am not ever setting foot in a church again (well, maybe for his funeral service) and I am finished with the idea of God.
The religious amongst you can all have a go at me - I don't care, and I am not walking on eggshells any more.
I truly am sorry for the pain that your family is now enduring. I lost my best friend to Mesothelioma a few years back. He was the greatest sort of person, kind, caring, intelligent, extremely faithful, and, sadly, he left behind a wonderful wife and a beautiful 3-year-old daughter. As is human nature, my first instinct was to question why. Why him of all people? Such a good man, father, husband, teacher, and so faithful. At one point, I found myself questioning God and my faith. Through a great deal of prayer and soul-searching, I truly believe that God opened my eyes to the idea that his plans for us sometimes go beyond our ability to comprehend. I started to really "tune in" to what was happening to my bud's family and our other mutual friends and their families.
My pal, Rodney, you see, was a High School Science teacher and throughout his relatively short life, had influenced hundreds, maybe thousands of young people. I began to notice that a subtle and sometimes profound change (for the better) began to take place in many of these lives as a direct result of the life that Rodney lived and as a direct result of the fact it was taken from him at such a young age and during such an important point in his life/career. One of our mutual friends who hadn't spoken to his own father in over ten years, called me, broke down as we talked about our pal and his passing, and two days later he had an emotional reunion with his own father - they've had a closer and stronger relationship than ever. Another of our mutual friends was an alcoholic who'd ruined his own marriage and had left behind two very young, innocent children in the wake whom he'd failed to care for or even to communicate with. He broke down at Rodney's funeral and we spoke later. It seems it took the death of friend to open his eyes to the precious nature of human life and to the damgae that he'd already done to his and was doing to the lives of his innocent children. He stopped drinking - cold turkey - and as far as I know hasn't had a drink since. For the past two years he's been involved in church and is working diligently to repair his relationship with his ex-wife and his children.
The closer I looked, the more and more I began to see a pattern emerging among many of my pal's family, friends, colleagues, and former students. The point is, I now know that it wasn't lack of a God, or actions of a cruel God that caused my best friend to die. All of these positive impacts could just be coincedence, but I choose to believe that they are not. I believe that God allows things to happen for a reason and that if we truly become intuned to his will through prayer, fellowship, and through reading his Word, then his plan is often revealed to us, at least in part.
In closing, I will add that, as I sat next to my best friend's hospital bed, holding his hand a week before he died, I was crying uncontrollably and I heard him chuckling. I looked over at him and he squeezed my hand and told me this, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself." I was stunned for a moment until he went on to say, "there's no reason to grieve for me, I've accepted this. I'm right with God and I know what lays ahead. You're just feeling sorry for yourself because you won't have me around anymore. Stop being so selfish." He laughed again, and it hit me like a ton of bricks that he was absolutely right. I hugged him and later I looked back and I believe that this was exactly what I needed to hear at the time. Those words would have profound meaning for me later. I still grieved, quetioned, and even blamed in the days and weeks following his death, but those words came back to provide me strength later on. Was this God giving Rodney the right words to say at that moment? Who knows? I choose to belive that it was and that works for me.
Three days before my friend passed I received an e-mail from him. Just a little story and I will share it, nothing special, but coming from a man three days away from his death, it is a pretty strong statement. My experience may not help your grieving, but just know, and I am a testament to this; we may lose faith in God and turn away, but I believe that he's always there, ready to take us back.
A Woman and a Fork
There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and
had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in
order," she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss
certain aspects of her final wishes She told him which songs she wanted
sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she
wanted to be buried in.
Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the
young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" came the pastor's reply.
"This is very important," the young woman continued.
"I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
"That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.
"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.
The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and
from there on out, I have always done so. I have also, always tried to pass
along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement.
"In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always
remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared,
someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my
favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety
chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with
substance!"
So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my
hand and I want them to wonder "What's with the fork?" Then I want you to tell
them: "Keep your fork ..the best is yet to come."
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman
good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her
before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp
of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like
than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and
knowledge.
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