"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Ranking just behind "In the beginning", this is probably the most famous opening line of any book ever written, and so aptly fits that holiday weekend years ago. All week the air had been filled with excitement and anticipation. It would be a time of water skiing, boat riding and sitting on the lake shore, telling stories of our youth, both real and made up. It would be good food cooked on the grill and playing Rook late into the night. It was to be another special time spent with family on Lake Gerald in Delta Alabama. Lake Gerald had become a place of so many good times for us. It was a double wide trailer on a 100 acre private lake. It was a place for family fun and church retreats. It was deeded to my sister and brother-in-law, but they always made you feel that you were a part owner. It was that relaxed. No problems allowed. No telephones. Just you, family, friends and Gods creation. What could be better. We had spent the previous day doing all the fun things. This morning we would wake up, go to the top of Cheaha Mountain to the hotel restaurant and have breakfast while looking out the giant window at the beautiful landscape God had provided for us. When you would cross into Alabama, the welcome sign would say WELCOME TO ALABAMA THE BEAUTIFUL. I was sure this is where that phrase had been written. We were just about to start up the mountain when we met my niece Susan going down Hwy 9 in the opposite direction. We pulled over to wait on her to turn around. We hadn't expected Susan so this would be an unexpected treat to have breakfast with her also. But she wasn't there to share in breakfast. She was there to bring bad news. A good friend of ours had been killed in an auto accident the night before. A young man with his whole life ahead of him. A loving young man we had gone to church with and had taught in Sunday School He was on the football team I had been so fortunate to be chaplain of. He had spent hour upon hour at our house, his laughter lighting up whichever room he was in. My heart broke. All of our hearts broke. I couldn't understand this!!!!! "WHY GOD? WHY DID YOU ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?" On the way home hardly a word was spoken. We were all in shock. Not only was this young man loved by us but his parents and his older brother were loved by us also. This was a good family. A close family. A family of much faith in God. We were not only close to the young man but were very close to his family also. We had spent a lot of time with them all. All of a sudden on that drive home, in the quietness of the car it hit me, that dreaded question we've all asked ourselves in times like this. What do I say to the parents? What do I say to the brother. How can I ease their pain. I prayed for an answer but God was silent. I begged God for the answer I knew I would need in a very short time.
But.....God was silent....
We had been told that all the friends and church family were at the parents home so we knew we had to go there. Cindy and Vicki were very young at the time so we decided it best not to take them with us so we went by Peggy's parents house to see if the girls could stay with them for a while. As always Peggy's mama said of course. As we were telling Emily (Peggy's mama) what had happened, it suddenly came to me that she had a little girl get electrocuted and die. Kathy, Emily's daughter that had been killed was 3 or 4 at the time. There never was much talk about this accident so I never asked many questions but I knew that after 20 some odd years, the pain of this death was still very strong. There were a couple of pictures sitting around and Emily had a few toys that were kathy's that none of the kids were allowed to play with. But at this time I needed information. I needed guidance. I needed someone to tell me what to say to these parents. So I took a deep breath and asked....." Emily, What can I say to help ease the pain the parents are going through." Although at the time I didn't realize it, God was about to answer my prayer. Emily said " number one: Talk to them about their son. Tell them about times you spent with him. About things they may not know about. Almost everyone at that house will change the subject when the boys name is mentioned. Why? Because they are afraid of saying the wrong thing. The parents want to hear things of their son. Be bold in sharing your experiences with the son. Number 2: Don't say "your loss or reference you lost your son." You lose your car keys...you don't lose a child...When you lose something you have no idea where that something is..They know where their son is...He's with God and they will be with him again. and never speak in past terms as "they had a son" ....They still have a son....he's just in heaven now....Number 3: Don't dare tell them time heals, or over time the hurt will fade..It doesn't Not one tiny bit does the pain ease.
My prayer was answered through words by my mother-in-law. Since this time we had another couple that we were very close to have a daughter die. They would call us some nights at midnight and ask if we would go with them to their boat to fish and talk. We would always go and one night the dad said to me..." I want to thank you for coming with us. We've asked other friends but you and Peggy are the only ones that will talk to us about our daughter, and we need that so much.
At an aunt's funeral not long ago the preacher, I believe in his prayer asked...."God,,,Why is dying so hard?" To my Grandchildren I say " Dying is only hard for us that are left living, but it is a part of living And one day we will be reunited with those we love.
Thank you God for answered prayers......
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