But what about David?...

There once were two men who went to Haiti - one named David and one named Dan.  Both husbands, fathers, believers in God, believers in Jesus for that matter, and both in their own way desired to help the people there.  While the men were in Haiti forces beneath their feet huffed and puffed and blew the land down.  Dan was found in the rubble and pulled to safety amid cheers and tears.  He is now reunited with wife and children and life-after.  So far David is still missing.

Two men walking up a hill one disappears and one's left standing still...old long-haired Larry Norman wished we'd all been ready. However, in this story, based on everything we know, it was not a question of readiness but inches.

The religion writer for our local paper voiced the broad last Sunday, the big why?  It is often referred to as theodicy - trying to reconcile God's goodness in a world full of badness.  The writer posed the question to local leaders of the Abrahamic faiths.  An evangelical pastor pointed to satan's top three: steal, kill, and destroy - "if he can use natural causes to destroy, he will."  A local rabbi indicated "we cannot understand everything."  A spokesman for the Islamic community offered: "God's ways are not our ways."  I wish our local leaders had all been ready with something else to say, something that sounded even remotely human.  I wish the writer would have brassed up and just combined their three responses: "hell if I know."  

The writer did bravely take the narrow road though, wondering the but behind the why: but what about David?  Because that really is the question, isn't it?  Yes, it's why do bad things happen, but when you clear away the rubble, it's but what about David? because if it happened to that wise man who built his house upon the rock, then it could sure happen to a sandy fool like, well, me. Theo + dicey = theodicey...


  1. I've been delving into theodicy. (Is it something you can delve into?)

    My dad, a godly man, got cancer and then he died. Besides the sad, and the mad, and the hurt, I felt scared, which I wasn't expecting. I think it was because of what you said in that last paragraph.

    Before this happened, I think I considered myself full of faith and trust because nothing like cancer had ever happened to my dear, sweet dad. But after, I felt like all bets were off and nothing was safe anymore.

    This new world I'm in where I can choose to have faith even if bad things happen not just to good people but to MY good people? Having faith here is a whole different ball game. But it feels more real somehow.

  2. Whimzie,

    Life east of Eden...it may be where faith, real faith begins...yes, it scares me too.

    Thanks for your comment. Your words have courage in them...I said a prayer for you and yours...amen.

  3. Every thought of David--and the thousands of others of fathers now gone, leaving grieving families and friend behind--opens up a space of Great Ache within me. And all I can do is to invite the Healer to fill that space, to help me trust, to believe, even when it all doesn't make sense. Far from the Garden for sure, but in between, we come upon the oasis, hinting at once was and what will be again.