My children asked: why did dad die? And I told them: It was an accident.
" There are small accidents, like knocking over milk at the dinner table . There are large accidents, like the one your dad was in. No one meant it to happen. It just happened, And his body was too badly damaged in the accident for his soul to stay in it anymore, and so he died.
" God does not spill the milk or bash the truck into your father's car. Nowhere in Scripture does it say 'God is Car Accident' or God is Death'. God is justice and kindness, mercy, and always, always love. So if you want to know where God is in this or in anything, look for love."
I think one reason I like working with crisis and death is that all the complicated and complicating tools of our natal tribe -the intellect, rational analysis, the all-pervasive irony- all these are useless.
It doesn't matter how educated, moneyed, or smart you are: When your child's footprints end at the river's edge, when the one you love has gone into the woods with a bleak outlook and a loaded gun, when the chaplain is walking toward you with bad news in her mouth, then only the cliches'are true, and you will repeat them, unashamed.
Your life will swing suddenly and cruelly in a new direction, and if you are really wise ~ and it's surprising and wondrous how many people have this wisdom in them ~ you will know enough to look around for love. It will be there, standing right on the hinge, holding out it's arms. And if you are wise, you will fall against it and be held.
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