Life feels very fragile this week.
This past weekend our 14-year-old played in a three-day, President’s Day volleyball tournament. This meant mornings of waking up at 5:30 am in order to drive an hour to a convention center and be on the court at 7:00, ready for full days of competitive play. We have the drill down. I braid my girl’s hair, then we load up the car, pick up our carpool buddy, and hit the road.
The competitions are filled with the noisy commotion of bouncing balls, shrill whistles, and the constant threat of being clocked in the head with a stray ball. I love watching this game and look forward to each and every tournament. However, after three straight days of screaming, cheering, videotaping, chatting with other parents, and enduring the rollercoaster emotions accompanying competitive sports, this introvert is ready to hibernate and recharge my batteries.
Then, yesterday I learned of two other volleyball mamas who got up Friday morning, gathered their 12-year-old daughters, loaded their car, and headed off to a volleyball tournament. Only they never made it to the courts. Their lives came crashing to a halt when a truck jumped a barrier and smashed into them en route to the competition. These moms perished with their daughters, leaving behind a total of two husbands and six other children. While I may have been mourning an error or bad call on the court, those two families were mourning so much more.
With a heavy heart, I was pondering the sadness of four lives cut short way too soon as I drove to my yearly mammogram this morning. A change in insurance meant I was driving to an unfamiliar location in order to use the 3-D technology my body requires. While not painful, the experience is never on my list of favorite activities. Furthermore, my mom’s recent triumph over breast cancer means I get a little jolt in my stomach every time a doctor or technician asks me if there is a history of breast cancer in my family. My appointment was uneventful, yet it is a yearly reminder of the fragility of life and good health.
We can’t predict when the doctor will call to deliver terrifying news. We don’t know when we will find a disturbing lump. We don’t know when a truck will suddenly veer into our lane, violently shattering our hopes, dreams, plans, and our very lives. Life is fragile. And when painful, senseless tragedies occur, our first question is often, “God, why have you allowed this to happen?”
Praise the Lord, our God is strong. Strong enough to carry us through difficult times. And strong enough to handle the question “why?” when tragedy strikes.
I love the words in the song Why God by Austin French. The artist points out that God is more than okay with our questioning bad things. Like any good and loving Father, He welcomes our questions, and He promises to walk with us through the situations we cannot understand.
Why God
Why God
Do people have to die?
A daughter or a son
Sudden and so young
Long before their time?
Why God
Do people fall apart?
A promise and a ring
Becomes a broken thing
A road that got too hard?
I don’t understand
But I understand
Why God, I need You
It’s, why God, I run to Your arms
Over and over again
It’s, why God, I cling to Your love
And hold on for dear life
And I find, You are right by my side
Why God
Do we feel so alone?
Every single day
Fighting through the pain
Hoping there is hope?
Give me a faith stronger than I have
I need to know when it hurts this bad
That You hold my heart when it breaks
And I’m not alone in this place
That’s why God, I need You
Why God, I run to Your arms
Over and over again
It’s, why God, I cling to Your love
And hold on for dear life
And I find, You are right by my side
Always right by my side
Even here in the why… God
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Mia Fieldes / Jeff Pardo
Why God lyrics © Be Essential Songs
Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for accepting our questions when tragedy strikes. Thank you that having faith doesn’t mean we can’t voice our human doubts, fears, and questions. Father God, please be with the families of the volleyball players who died this weekend. I pray that they know You and will find strength in You. Amen.
