Can You Hear Me Now?

"CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?"


Four-year old Christopher shouted it into my ear. We played a little after dinner game at our house, enabling his mom and dad to chat freely with my wife. That was in 2007. Bob and Bridget had come to discuss his career options as a Navy emergency physician. He was one of the best physicians, leaders, and naval officers I'd ever met, and he had a great young family too. I was highly motivated to keep him in the Navy, but only if we could meet his professional and family requirements. Kathy's and Bridget's conversation would be pivotal, and would engender an enduring friendship.


Quite some time later, when his mom was carrying his future brother Paul, I happened upon Christopher and his family strolling through our hospital. He remembered our little game.


"CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?"


Today seven-year old Christopher lies alone as a patient in a Seattle hospital. Fortunately, his injuries appear less serious than originally feared. His mom and two-year old brother are patients in yet another hospital near Spokane. We understand that they will recover as well.


His dad...


Well, Bob is no longer with us. He died in the vehicle rollover that seriously injured his wife and two children.


Words utterly fail to express the sadness and anger we feel around here.


They were supposed to come back to Japan. I would have the privilege to work with Bob again. Kathy and Bridget would renew their friendship. Maybe Christopher would remember our little game. Maybe Paul would learn it too. But...


As humans we don't get to decide these things. So says conventional wisdom. Frankly, at this time we wonder why He who does decide would allow such a tragedy to befall good people who so deserve happiness and earthly fulfillment. Today, doubt borne on incredulity sorely tries our faith.


But ultimately we must believe that some redemption will occur, at a time and place and way that we cannot fathom now. Otherwise the senselessness will lead to despair. And Hell that is. So faith must win this battle, no matter how desperately challenged.


Can you hear me now, Bob? We grieve the loss of you. We cherish the memory of you. We honor and pray for your family left behind. You were a great American, an outstanding physician and naval officer, and an exemplary husband, father, and human being. We so must believe that your life will achieve greater fulfillment in those left behind by your death.


Can you hear me now, God? Can you hear my anger? My doubt? You have truly shaken faith by this tragedy. Now You must give strength and succor to those who mourn, to those who continue to believe against reason that You will turn this pain to good, so that we may all cherish the memory of Bob as one of your most outstanding servants.  


Not our will....


CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?