It has been nine months, since Stefan's accident. We are still receiving flowers, condolence cards and late memorial donation notifications. (Thank you). We got some yesterday. But they make us cry, still. The cousins cry, the friends cry, the grandmas cry, the birthfamily cries.
Not all the time. Certainly not as often. But just as sadly or maybe more. And then we set each other off and it goes around.
Grandpa Lechelt (95) died this week. Funeral on Saturday. We are happy for him. He was a ready saint. There is not this desperate "why" question in everyone's mind, though death is always nasty. Grandpa Lechelt cried the hardest when Stefan died. He thought it should have been his own turn. It will be a poignant time for the family.
Why suffering? Why death? And why damnation, by the way? Reading Steve's blog on the Calvinist questions, make me connect to suffering. God is not to blame that some (or many) are lost. God is also not to blame for our suffering and accidents. But he is omnipotent and loving. There is seemingly a contradiction here. There is something we can't understand.
How do we deal with this not understanding?
Like any little child in the supermarket. You hold on tightly to the hand that's holding you and holler like mad when you feel lost. You can never find your own way. We might think we could, but we can't. Would we really know God's love and support and gracious redemption without suffering, losses and some being lost? Without fear and cross and Christ's scandalous death? All I know is where to go: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Alleluia. Alleluia."
Sermon: Judica (Lent 5) - 2018
4 hours ago