A fire in Halifax, Nova Scotia, on Tuesday, killed seven children ranging in age from four months to fourteen years. Their father is in life threatening condition and the mother is remarkably unharmed…physically.
Can anyone even fathom the devastation this mother is dealing with?
Tears are not enough to wash away the enormity of this woman’s suffering in the moment and in years to come…her own tears and those of all who mourn with her.
Some will ask where is God in all this.
Along with the rest of us…Jesus wept. (John 11:35)
Last Friday night on the outskirts of Humboldt, Saskatchewan, a horrific bus crash changed the lives of this community and surrounding areas forever.
Toronto’s Globe and Mail reported fifteen people, including 10 players between the ages of 16 and 21, were killed when a semi-trailer crashed into the Broncos’ bus late on Friday afternoon. As of Monday, 12 people remained in hospital: four in critical condition, four serious and four stable, according to Saskatchewan’s health authority.
There has been an outpouring of grief and support from around the world and I among many shed copious tears for the lives lost, those spared who will face ongoing traumatic healing, and those left behind to grieve the loss of their precious loved ones.
There are those who ask where God is at times like these.
The answer is He is with every single person whose life is touched by this tragic event.
The answer is He shares our grief.
The answer lies in John’s gospel, chapter eleven, verse thirty-five…Jesus wept.
Here is what I learned from MatthewRuttan.com/Up yesterday, and I quote:
Today’s Thought Horatio Spafford lived in Chicago. And when the great fire of 1871 ripped through the city, not only did it destroy his home, but it destroyed much of his livelihood. (He was in real estate.)
Did I mention he had no insurance?
This was a huge blow at an already difficult time. The previous year he and his wife had lost their son to scarlet fever.
So now, having no home, he put his wife and four daughters on a ship back to England as he stayed behind to try and get things started again.
Shortly thereafter he got a telegram from his wife that said, “Saved alone. What shall I do?”
There had been a shipwreck at sea. All four of their daughters drowned.
Horatio got on a ship to go and meet his wife. As he passed over the very same waters where his daughters had lost their lives, he wrote some lyrics to a song. Some of you will know them very well:
“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.”
These are the now-famous words to the hymn “It is well.”
How many of us can say, “It is well with my soul” even without going through the tragedies that Horatio did. There lived a man with great faith. When we get to that place in our lives, we will be blessed indeed.
I write because thoughts swirl around in my head and I sometimes don’t know what to do with them. Writing them down gets them out of my head and maybe sometimes into someone else’s.
Take last Friday evening for instance. A young couple in their early thirties was enjoying a lovely summer evening under a tree on a park bench in downtown Toronto. They were here from France on work permits and expecting a baby.
Suddenly, a large branch of the Siberian elm, which was their shade, fell from the tree and hit the young man as he leaned in to protect his wife. It killed him. Dead. On the spot. How can that be? Here one second and gone the next.
These thoughts have been on my mind since that tragic evening. I write because I think it will help ease my mind but I know the questions will go to bed with me again tonight.
Why is a young wife and her unborn child stranded in Canada without the husband she shared a park bench with at the end of a busy day? Why did the branch fall? Why Canada and not France?
Here’s a quote that came my way yesterday. It may have made it to this blog before but, no matter, it is worth repeating:
“There are things that we don’t want to happen but have to accept, things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without but have to let go.” The author is unknown.
This makes me think of a young couple who are living this quote right now, right here in Ontario, Canada. Their three precious children, ages nine, five and two years old…two sons and a daughter…and their maternal grandfather were killed when a car driven by a drunk driver crashed into this family’s minivan last September.
This young couple has to accept that their children will never return to them. They have to learn how to live the rest of their lives with this knowledge. They also have to let go of the people they can’t live without. Heartbreaking.
The quote may also apply to many of us in our day-to-day lives if we stop to think about it…really think about it. Things that we don’t want to happen to us do happen and we have to accept them; there are things we don’t want to know but have to learn; and people we can’t live without but have to let go. It’s all part of life and all life is a learning experience.
Yesterday I encountered both joy and sorrow, not personally, but via social media.
The first story was about the death, on Mother’s Day, of Lauren Davis, the beautiful twenty-four old daughter of a well known media personality, Erin Davis, co-host of the Toronto radio station CHFI morning show. The tragic details are unknown at this time but the news is definitely one of sorrow…deep, deep sorrow.
The second story is about love. It’s about a couple who lived in Ottawa, dated for four years in their teenage years, drifted apart, each married other people, and became widowed in recent years. Happenstance caused them to reunite in Ottawa and rekindle the old flame. Today they are eighty-two and eighty-four years of age and planning to marry in June of this year. This is a story of joy…deep, deep joy.
These stories touch me deeply. I feel the sorrow of a mother losing her daughter to death; it breaks my heart. I also feel the bliss of the couple reunited after sixty-five years; it fills my heart with joy.
Joy and sorrow…each capable of filling the soul with heartfelt emotions…each capable of holding the heart captive…each a part of life…joy and sorrow.
Working in Pastoral Care and as an Elder, and even just because of friendships, I am always searching for words of comfort and hope to relay to people who suffer some of life’s toughest tragedies, especially the loss of loved ones.
Yesterday I happened upon three bits of advice from three different sources, all from unknown writers. I’m sharing them here:
Although we grieve and hurt in a tragic situation, it still is not about us…it is about God.
Everything that happens in life is ultimately between God and the person involved in the happening.
Don’t let tragedy steal your trust in God.
I’m always thankful when timely tidbits come my way to share with those who may be in need of what I think of as God’s advice.
My Precious Life 