I repost this blog in response to the pain felt by so many at the passing of Lindsay Hill. I have not edited it to fit her specific situation because that might imply I knew her far better than I did. I have no knowledge of Lindsay's religious beliefs or persuasion. I offer this blog as "food for thought" to the many who may be asking, "Why?".
Note to the reader: These comments are posted as I reflect on the tragic lose of a distant cousin in a traffic accident.
I am not young anymore, but I am not old either. I guess I am in "mid-life" by default. I have seen enough of life to know that terrible things happen without warning and that much of life "doesn't make sense". I suppose it is this lose of idealism, knowing that it may not "all work out" that causes men of my station in life to enjoy going home at night to the wife and kids. Being safe and secure out wieghs the thrill of many adventures that could be had.
Age has not dulled the inevitable question of, "Why?"
I have turned that question over countless times for this and other accidents and have come up with two answers. The long answer is, "Only God knows, and He is not telling." The short answer is, "Well, heck." Both are equally comforting and useless.
Today, I looked at the "why?" question from around the corner, so to speak. If I can't find an answer, what does it say about me that I still ask the question? That turn of thought, I believe, sheds some new light on the situation and brings forth some comfort. Let me explain.
I ask "why?" because I want life to have meaning, order, and purpose. Think of the young child who asks the same question to the point of distraction. The child is trying to find the organization, purpose, and meaning in the world he/she is getting to know. We as adults do our best to answer based on our knowledge and understanding.
The point here is that I asked, "Why?" as opposed to shrugging my shoulder or even not caring.
By asking, "Why?" I am saying, "Life should have meaning." By this simple reflex question I am rejecting the idea of a world that is created by random chance. (see my blog on creation/evolution) If we are here as the result of random chance imposed on enormous lengths of time, spread across incredible amounts of events, then what meaning could there be to life?
When I ask "Why?" I am declaring from my inmost being that life has meaning, therefore it was created with a purpose. If it was created with a purpose there must be a creator. If there is a creator, He surely has left a trail of signs in His creation that describe him. For example: A piece of pottery tells us something of the potter. Was he skilled? Did he understand form and function? Did he invest in beauty though it added nothing to function? Did He sign his name to show his pride? Theologians would yammer for hours about this under the title, "General Revelation" as opposed to "Specific Revelation" if you are interested.
Do you start to see what I saw as I "looked around the corner" at this question, "Why?"
My distant cousin's life and death had meaning because it drew me closer to the Creator (God). What greater use is there for a life than to draw yourself and others closer to God? It is the reason I write this blog. I want to help others move toward God. If I can do that, the life that has past will have meaning and many others will too. And so a tragic accident starts a ripple in the sea of humanity that will reach out to many more for years to come.
Do I know where these ripples will go? No. Do I have any control of these ripples? No. Will the ripples affect positive things in the world? Yes!
What is the purpose of man? To love, honor, and glorify God, his creator.
May you have found some encouragement in these words.
Thank you for thinking.