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| © David Hartman |
This part of the country has seen its share of disaster in recent weeks, from flooding to the devastating tornadoes, particularly in Joplin, Missouri. The stories of the victims are sad. It's equally tragic whenever anyone loses a life in a disaster like these, whether they're young or they're old.
The great thing about living in this part of the country is how people respond to disasters and tragedy. Oklahomans are a pretty generous lot at times like this. So I wasn't surprised when I drove past a group washing cars at a corner on Broadway Extension last week. They were raising money to help the family in Piedmont who lost two young children in last week's tornado.
What did surprise me was seeing the washers holding up poster-sized signs of the faces of the dead children to advertise the car wash. It was -- to me anyway -- a bit over the top. Exploitation.
I've been known to drive into these car washes just to give money when the cause is good or the bikini catches my eye, even if I didn't need or want my car washed. But I didn't pull into this one. Not sure why, but I think it had something to do with the advertising. I'm still sorting all that out in my head.
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Speaking of the Joplin tornado, several of my Facebook friends (who also are real-life friends) are aghast that the Westboro Baptists will be demonstrating at the memorials there. We've walked this Westboro road before in the blog, so you know where I stand on the issue. If you don't, go here.I understand folks not liking the Westboro Baptists. What I don't understand is Christians suggesting the way to handle that group is to repay evil with evil. The way to handle these folks is not to try to silence them. The soldiers who died at the funerals they routinely protest did so to protect -- among other things -- the right of the Westboro Baptists to say what they have to say. When living people try to deny that right, soldiers die in vain. When Americans deny that right, we're a textbook example of a house divided against itself.
The best way to minimize the impact of this small group of fanatics is to wait until they leave, then go in behind them and clean up the mess, showing people what real Christianity looks like. In the big picture, they're not big enough, credible enough or effective enough to threaten the kingdom.
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A few weeks back, we had a visit from my cousin, Kim, her husband, John, and daughter, Sarah, who were in town so Sarah could check out Oklahoma Christian as a potential college choice for the fall. It's always good to visit with kinfolk, particularly as scattered as we are throughout the country.In a conversation we had during the visit, I learned something about my immediate family that I hadn't known before. When I was pretty young, five-ish I'm guessing, we were supposed to have a baby. When the time came, mom and dad went to the hospital. My sister and I went to stay with grandparents. I remember someone telling me that the baby we were supposed to have was born dead. I remember mom and dad coming home without this brother or sister I was supposed to be getting. I remember things being kind of sad for awhile, but at that age, it didn't take me long to move on. I didn't really miss what I never knew.
The "revelation" came when the Geezer was talking with Kim and John about how the baby had severe defects, and how long it took mom to get over so many people telling her that in the long run, the baby being born dead was a "blessing" from God.
I suppose my folks made the decision not to talk at the time about the baby's defects to protect me from something I probably wouldn't understand, anyway. But I'm surprised that in the four decades that have passed, it never came up in any conversation that I can remember.
So with that kinda stewing in my brain for a few weeks now, I have been particularly impacted by the journey of Joy and Stephen Colwell. I don't claim to be particularly close to them now, though I'm familiar with Joy and her family. Joy was a camper at Wisconsin Christian Youth Camp, where I counseled for many years. Her siblings also were campers, and her dad worked a two-week session I was a part of years ago. They're good people, all of them. They're God people. What I most remember about Joy is her infectious smile. It's one of dozens of smiles permanently etched in my memory from my years there.
On Monday, Joy and Stephen will have a memorial service for their daughter, Maggie, who died just 26 days after birth. Born with multiple major health issues, Maggie never came home from the hospital, and was on life support her entire life from minutes after birth.
I've been moved by their story, which has been chronicled on a blog. I can't wrap my mind around two young parents having to make the decision to remove life support from their infant daughter and give her back to Jesus.
I've been impacted most by the outpouring of love and support the family has received during this time, the prayers offered up on their behalf. It's God's people, the way they were meant to be. It's the church Jesus died to create alive and well a couple thousand years later. It's as much the words and hands of Jesus as anything you'll read in the gospels.
Forty years ago, people told my parents they were "blessed" by not having to fully endure what Joy and Stephen have been through. Better for us to not have to know and possibly raise a child that would never be "normal."
But it's clear to me that throughout the tears and heartache and helplessness, God has blessed Joy and Stephen immensely in Maggie's short life, even if we don't understand the "why."
Still don't believe there's a God who loves and blesses and sustains his people? Spend a few minutes here.
