When bad things happen it’s easy to fall prey to the thinking of, “Why me?” Our family has gone through the wringer with bad things happening in recent months/years. We’ve faced our share (and then some) of sickness, loss, and unplanned crises. It’s overwhelming and tempting to blame God and ask Him why do these things happen and after they happen, why aren’t we rescued?
Why wasn’t this prevented? Why didn’t God stop it? Is God not fair?
The days in between
I just came from Malawi where I took part in hosting a free community clinic. Thousands arrived every day to receive care—the people in the village where we held the clinic live in intense poverty. Malawi is, according to the World Bank, the fourth poorest nation in the world. There’s no adequate way to explain how poor the people are. They live from meal to meal. Often those meals have to stretch for days in between. Due to their lack of proper nutrition, many struggle to overcome infections that a well-nourished individual would overcome easily.
Bad things happened to Sara
I remember once while living in Malawi and working at our feeding program (that is located in the same village where we held our clinic), one of our well-known volunteers, I’ll call her Sara, didn’t show up for a few days. This wasn’t unusual because we all knew she had a daughter who was severely disabled. Even though her daughter was disabled, Sara loved her fiercely and doted on her to the best of her ability.
It was evident that Sara didn’t see raising a disabled child in poverty as a burden, for her daughter brought her great joy. However, this time that Sara was absent was different. She had not come to the feeding program for many days, nor had she sent any word as she usually did. We decided to send someone to her house to make sure everyone was alright. The news that came back wasn’t what we were expecting, Sara’s little daughter had died.
Etched in my memory
We all decided to go directly to her house after feeding activities concluded for the day. The sight that met me remains etched in my memory. Sara’s house was simple even by Malawian standards. A mud brick house with no windows or doors. The roof of the house was thatched poorly. When we walked into the house, we found a single room void of any furniture. Sara’s daughter’s body was wrapped in a reed mat and she sat quietly, mourning her little girl alone.
While much of Africa is poor, it is rich in community. When tragedy strikes, family and neighbors turn out to comfort the bereaved. This is why I was stunned by what I found that day – no one was sitting with Sara. We all filed into the house one-by-one and sat quietly before singing a few traditional songs. I found out while sitting in the house that no one came to be with Sara because everyone was afraid of her husband who was a harsh man that drank too much.
The unfairness of life
The unfairness of this little girl’s life circumstances and her death struck me. I had no answer for the why, but I did know what I needed to do. Together with the ladies of the feeding program, we made sure Sara’s daughter was buried properly and that Sara herself was cared for throughout.
I still have no answer for why this little girl’s short and tragic life ended as it did, why she endured so many bad things. All I know is what I had to do when I faced it: show how much God cares when it seemed no one else did.
A broken world full of bad things
Our world is broken beyond the ability of mankind to repair. We will all, at some time or another, face life crises, bad things, that have no answer. This does not mean that God has turned away from us in the middle of the trouble. It means that we who represent Him in the world need to rally around those in need to bring love and support in life’s most difficult moments.
Life, with all its trials, along with death, will touch us all. None of us are exempt. However, when the trouble comes, may we give to others what we will someday need ourselves.
A smiling face
At our clinics, my job is to organize the patients to be seen by the doctors and nurses. I hand out numbers and make sure that patients enter in to be seen in manageable numbers. While I was handing out numbers, a familiar face met mine. Sara’s turn came in the line. Her smile was filled with words that didn’t need to be spoken. She had come to get treatment for a chest infection. I was thankful for the opportunity to see her again. I didn’t ask if she was still with her abusive husband, for I already knew she was. Together with the other ladies nearby we chatted about our times together and I saw her on her way to the doctor.
Why does she stay with her husband and allow herself and her children to endure what they have endured? I have no answer because I’ve never experienced what she has experienced. All I know is that I’ll be there, our ladies will be there, any time she calls.
That’s what we do when bad things happen. We take care of one another. This is how God works.
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