Bad things happen

Several comments on my Post from yesterday prompted today's. Talli and Colette, I hope both of you get a chance to read this. It might spark some interesting comments.

Several years ago, more than 10 anyway, my father went blind. It started with one eye and then, about 5 years later, began affecting the other eye. His blindness is caused by hardening of the arteries. The eye doctors refer to it as a rare form of glaucoma, but the truth is, it's caused by the arteries in the eyes hardening until the blood cannot flow through them to feed the eye. The blood vessels in his eyes began to burst as the blood built up on one side of the blockage. He endured a few very painful surgeries in which the blood vessels were cleared via lasers, but the damage was, eventually, unstoppable, and his eye died. The second eye still has some vision. He can see shadows, mostly, but can read some things with the help of equipment that blows his newspaper and correspondence up very large.

My father is one of the kindest, funniest, strongest, wisest men you could ever want to meet. He grew up in the northwoods of Canada in an area where very few white men lived. His hometown is now part of a Cree Indian Reservation. His father, uncle and aunts and grandparents founded the town where he grew up and were the first white settlers in that part of Canada. He lived in a log cabin built by my grandfather with a large wood-burning stove in the middle of the living room for heat. It was his responsibility, as the oldest son, to keep it stoked and fueled during the night. The floors were covered by bear-skins and there was no inside plumbing or electricity. My grandfather was a hunter and trapper and worked during the summer months for the forestry. My father worked alongside of him. As a young boy (preteen), when he chopped his thumb off splitting firewood, he traveled by himself by hiking through the woods for over a day until he reached the traintracks, then caught a train to the nearest large town, checked himself into a hospital, had his thumb amputated, recovered for several weeks, and then made his way back home again by the same route. He grew up hard and tough, just like the land and people around him.

Later, he joined the American Army and, after being busted down to Private twice and thrown in the Stockade, finally put his hand to the plough and decided to make the Army his life. He rose to the rank of CW4, Chief Warrant Officer, an enlistedman whose rank is so high, he's considered an officer. He was one of a handfull of men approved by Congress to stay in past the mandatory retirement age because of his expertise.

Upon his retirement, he went to Seminary (not an easy job for a man of his advanced age), and was ordained a Methodist Minister. He served many churches until his blindness forced his retirement from the ministry.

He was a combat veteran who served two tours in Vietnam and speaks multiple languages, including French, Cree Indian, Vietnamese, . . .

When my father lost his first eye, I grieved. When he began to go blind in his other, I got angry. I screamed at God, begged for healing for my Daddy, and spent untold hours on my knees crying out to God for an explanation of why He could allow such a terrible thing to happen to such a just, honorable, and godly man. My rationalization was something like, "If you treat those who love you like this, no wonder you don't have many friends." Although I had a deep faith, it was shaken to its core. I just couldn't believe that God wouldn't choose to heal my father, His beloved servant, who had such a marvelous ministry.

God never did heal my Daddy. On my wedding day, he was unable to see me as he walked me up the aisle. I'm tearing up now as I write these words. I wanted so desperately for him to be able to see my children - their beautiful faces, recognize the resemblance between my babies and their family members. But he doesn't see them well enough to distinguish features.

What God did do, though, is give my father an even greater ministry that he would never have had without his blindness. My father became a missionary. Last year, he went to Africa for a month - by himself. My mother wasn't able to go with him, so he made the decision to go by himself. He had never been on a mission lasting over two weeks before and he always had help with his medicines, getting around, etc. We were all very worried, but he was sure God had spoken clearly to him and promised to protect him.

In the part of Africa where my father went, there were 13 unreached tribes. They fear white men and, thus, had never been brought the Gospel. My little, sweet, white-haired, blind Daddy was accepted by and able to reach 9 of these 13 tribes. He brought the Gospel to people who had never before allowed this type of contact. But this little blind old man was NO THREAT to these aboriginies. When he appeared with his safari vest and white walking cane, they embraced him and even allowed pictures to be taken of him with them, previously an absolute no-no.

My father has returned 3 or 4 times to Vietnam. He has a great love for the Vietnamese people. During the war, he worked as an advisor to the South Vietnamese Infantry and lived with them, eating their food and dressing the way they dressed. On these return trips, he toured areas where he had been stationed during the War and believes he met some men who had been young boys in the village where he worked during his first tour. They remembered things about him that he had not shared with them. The Vietnamese people have a huge respect for the elderly, mainly because their people seldom live to old age. So, to see this OLD man, who's blind, coming to their country blesses them hugely.

Over the years since he went blind, I've begun to understand a little better why God allowed his blindness. I've developed a personal theology about bad things happening to good people that goes something like this:

God created the earth and life to function a certain way. Creation, or nature, has certain rules that God established at the dawn of time. Human life has built-in safeguards and risks. In order to ensure successful procreation, God created our bodies to dispel life that would not live outside the womb. He did not create illness, but it is a natural part of life (or, as my Catholic friends would say, a result of original sin and the Fall of Man). God created all these things to function a certain way, and He seldom interferes in His creation. Many godly people suffer and die from cancer and heart attacks. God almost never chooses to miraculously save these people. Parents who have tried repeatedly to conceive sometimes will lose the cherished baby they worked so hard to bring into existence. Could God save that baby? Yes, of course, but He seldom chooses to. He allows nature to function the way it was created. My father went blind because of hardening of the arteries. Could God have stopped the process. Even now, could God heal him? Certainly!!! But, as yet, God has not chosen to do that.

In my father's case, God had a better plan for him. He allowed my father's blindness to bring about a greater work. We never could have seen that on the other side of his blindness. It's only as a result of my Daddy embracing blindness and choosing to live life to the fullest in his current condition that the Lord has been able to use him so mightily.

I lost two, and possibly three, babies along the way to birthing the 3 I have. While I grieve for them, I don't ask God why He took them. I don't believe He took them. I believe it was a normal consequence of life, the way God created my body to function, and those babies are waiting in Heaven for me. One day, I will hold them in my arms. Perhaps God allowed their souls to come to Heaven so they could plead to The Father for me and my earthly children.

Hurricanes happen. They're a natural consequence of God's creation. I don't expect God to stop them. I do, however, hope that we humans can turn even the sorrowful things in our lives into joy. Perhaps, in 10 years, some of the victims of Katrina will rejoice at how God has allowed them to rebuild in a way they never could have before and we will see New Orleans and Biloxi as much more beautiful than pre-Katrina. God doesn't stop nature, but He definately blesses the consequences of it.