My heart reaches out...

My heart reaches out in silence because I don't know what to say.

I have a friend, L, who is in the most difficult moments of her life, moments that drag by with a painful understanding, pain like she has never before experienced. Moments that included saying goodbye to her middle child, at least for this lifetime. He was only twenty something. He died November 10, 2009 of cancer.

She and I use to work together. We still work in the same district. Through the years our friendship grew. But we really bonded as 1999 slid into 2000. We were in Dallas at Southfork Ranch (The Dallas TV show) chaperoning the band students who would perform on New Years Day at the Cotton Bowl Game. The band teacher was also a good friend and between the two of them they talked me into going. After all, my daughter was the drum majorette. So, I traveled on a big bus with lots of band students for hours and hours to Dallas, Texas. L and I shared a very nice room on the ninth floor.

She and I have some things in common. We love coffee and must have it upon awakening. We love cats. And most of all, we love our children deeply and soulfully -like most mothers do.

I remember how sad she was when their cat (one eyed) Jack died, she suspected, from drinking the residue of a cleaning product in the bathtub.

Jack made her sad, but this is worse.

L was a daddy's girl. Her dad died a few years ago. This is worse.

Her mom has Alzheimer's and doesn't often recognize her, but this is worse.

I haven't heard her blame God once, but if she did, He would understand.

I've noticed that people want to blame someone for things that go wrong. We blame each other. We blame ourselves. We blame the government or the president. We blame God. Although, blaming is a normal reaction to pain and stress, blaming has never made the horrible- better...not for me anyway. Never! And I’ve tried.

Sometimes when things happen, I ask why. God isn't surprised when we ask "why" or when we are angry at him, or when we blame him for the mess in our lives. I sometimes think it would be great if God were my puppeteer guiding me and mine through life to avoid the ugly. But it doesn't work that way. And I can't really expect him to be my puppeteer one day and then demand to be free the next. He isn't my Santa Claus or my genie in a bottle, and yet I ask him for things, all the time. Give me! God thinks about eternity and we think about the present, because our vision is narrow. That's the way we are. He understands that, too.

No parent should outlive their child. But, we can't control that. Scripture says that our days are determined (Job 14:5 NIV) -measured. We are born. We live. We die. We can't control death. We might think we can, but not really.

Last month was the 33rd year anniversary since the death of a child of another dear friend of mine. The baby girl was almost two when a terrible horrible accident occurred near their home. I didn't know what to say to her then and I don't know what to say to L now, except I love you. And I hope the love and prayers of her family and friends will reach her in the fog of sadness that she has to bear.