Wildflower Writes

continued from 4/25 post As Wendy’s sobs lessened, unbidden thoughts came to her. They came slowly at first, then rushed in on her in another wave of grief. Would he be at her first soccer match in the fall? He hadn’t missed one since she started running up and down the field as a preschooler. What about graduation? He probably wouldn’t even see her graduate, or see her college dorm room. When she finally found her Prince Charming, who was going to walk her down the aisle? “Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she cried out loud, wishing for a miracle, wishing that all of this was just a bad dream. When Wendy couldn’t cry anymore, she blew her nose, took a deep breath, and put her keys into the ignition. The rain had lessened somewhat, but lightning still cut through the sky. She slowly pulled out of the lot and made her way home. The drive was a complete blur, and before she knew it she was pulling into her driveway. Her mother’s car was conspicuously absent. Mom was probably at the hospital. Sh...

A friend of mine was going through a hard time dealing with a personal loss. “I’m so angry at God,” she said. “How could He let this happen?'” I didn’t have any simple answers for her. I don’t have any special insight into why God chooses to intervene in the lives of people at certain times, and then chooses to refrain from interceding at other times. His ways are not my ways. I did tell her was that it’s perfectly acceptable to be angry at God. Anger is a human emotion. We all experience it. Do you ever remember getting mad at someone when you were a kid, and you said, “I’m not going to be your friend anymore,” or “I hate you.” You didn’t mean it, you were just so angry. It was the only way you knew how to express yourself. Maybe you’ve had the privilege of having your own child yell or scream at you and tell you “You’re the worst mom (or dad) in the world! I hate you!” Unless you were angry too, you probably took the words with a grain of salt. You knew he was angry, and you didn...