God is Good

I like to read the comments people write on newspaper articles or other articles online.  Usually the comments get off track and instead of commenting on the article, people are spewing their hatred for religion.  It doesn’t matter what the article is about, they somehow turn it to religion.

Yesterday I read an article on a baby that was born at 20 weeks and lived for a few minutes and then died.  There were pictures of the baby.  The point is that many places abort babies at that same age yet to see what the baby looks like makes a person realize that this is not just a bunch of tissue like a tumor, but it is a person.

One of the comments at the end of the article was a lady who shared about twins who were born really early and one died, but one lived and went on to become a pastor and do wonderful things.  The next person commented “God is good.”  That got things going!  We say “God is good!” when something goes right, but what about when things don’t seem good.  The other baby died, so how can you say God is good.  That is the essence of the argument.  I get it.  We all do.  It’s the age old question.  How can a loving God allow bad things to happen?

I don’t have an answer to that question.  I could ask it myself about injustices or other really painful experiences people have.  We see it all around us, bad things happening.  So how do we Christians still love God?


I’m not answering the question here, but rather giving a perspective. 


This life is a very small part of life.  If you look at a timeline of all of time you would see how small we really are.  A speck on the line is our existence.  Our little life here on earth is spent trying to stay alive or avoid death.  We do everything we can to fight off the inevitable.  Then one day we die.  But that isn’t the end.  It is just the real freedom.  This life we live on earth is our time of bondage.  The moment of death is our victory.  After we defeat death we are free.  We no longer have the fear of death.  We no longer struggle to stay alive.  We can really live. 

Just Listen

Last week I felt like I had a lot to say but for some reason I couldn't get it all out.  Finally I talked with a counselor that comes to the home I work at and she listened to me.  As I reflected on my time with her, I realized that she didn't offer advice, she only listened.  She just sat there while I went on and on talking about what was going on and how I was doing.  She might have asked a question or two, but mostly I just talked.  I got to the end of all my talking and said, "Well, that's it.  I guess I will go get the next person who is going to meet with you."

For several days I thought about feeling not listened to.  It really started to irritate me.  So much so that I even snapped at Steve when I was talking and he started talking and I felt I wanted to talk more.  A normal conversation has two or more people talking, but I didn't want a normal conversation.  I wanted a one sided conversation.  It wasn't Steve's fault of course.  He didn't know that I wanted the floor for my solo act.

I guess that is why I talk to counselors.  I just wish I didn't have to pay them to listen to me.

She Didn't Take Her Teddy Bear

This week has been difficult.  At the home I work at there has been a lot of stress.  One girl has been especially difficult to have in the home.  She causes fights and irritates people with her behavior.  She doesn’t do what she is told to do and  is unruly.  Over the weekend she started self harming and talking about suicide.  So it was decided that the best option for her would be some serious mental evaluation at a mental hospital for children. 

She said she wanted to leave the home.  She wanted to return to her village or go to another home.  She was very upset.  We got the permission we needed to take her in for observation and told her that the following day she could go.  We didn’t tell her where she would be going, but she seemed happy about it.

Finally the time came for her to leave.  She put on some nice clothes and the care givers packed up her few items.  But she said she didn’t want to take anything.  I sat there and watched as they put her items in a bag to take anyway.  I asked her, “Are you going?”  And she burst into tears and buried her head into my lap.  I put my arm around her and just sat there while she bawled and said she didn’t want to go.  I held up her teddy bear and asked if she wanted to take it, but she refused.

After she left I looked at the teddy bear and just started to cry.  I felt so sad for this small girl.  She is really all alone in the world.  No one was even looking for her.  And even though this may be the best thing for her, it felt like another rejection on her life.  So I cried.