Life is like the dew on an early morning's grass - it is there for a moment and then disappears . . . James the Elder.
Meg called tonight, and Josh called last week. Meg's call came just a few minutes ago - her good friend, Miller, died from a brain aneurysm. Joshes friend, Heath, was shot and murdered on September 10 - Sandy and my thirty-third anniversary. On our twenty-fifth anniversary our son, Justin, lost his best friend, Matt Puccio in a car accident. Matt Puccio got a Mustang and his drivers license on the same day he died. No alcohol was involved - just an inexperienced driver and a twisting road.
Meg is on the road with Invisible Children - she is distraught. Sandy and I have been texting with her for the last hour. She is somewhere in Idaho and the phone reception is spotty. We wish we could intercept her on en route and be there to comfort her. She is a warrior Princess, and she will push through. Josh is in Columbus, GA, and over the last couple of weeks we have spent a lot of time on the phone talking him through Heath's death. He, too, has a hearty faith. He will press onward.
It is in situations like these that the lines separating faith and non-faith are paper thin. No mortal can understand why such things happen - but instead must rest in a ruthless faith and trust in the Providence of God. We pray for eyes to see and ears to hear what God is saying.