Protection

“Oh God, protect that child.” I said this to myself as I left a coffee shop I frequent. It is a friendly place and serves coffee that is roasted in-house and served strong. A man had been in line ahead of me with his two young boys and ordered a cup for himself and to my surprise, one for his boy, who barely was as tall as my waist and could only have been six years old. As I was leaving, I smiled at the child in his baseball cap, holding his coffee in both hands. “You like coffee?” A slight, shy, smile crossed his face as he looked up at me and then he quickly looked down without a word.  His father smiled and said, “Yeah, he likes it.” I knew the father loved his boy, and I thought of the strong black brew I held in my hand, and then for some reason I had the thought of protection for the child’s innocence. As I walked to my truck, I thought, “And God, protect other people; like the protestors in Libya who are fighting for their freedom and getting shot.” And then I wondered, does prayer matter? I remembered an incident I wrote about in my book, A Heart Traced In Sand. In Kentucky, a group of young women had arrived early to gather for Christian prayers at their high school. As they stood close, praying, a deranged boy approached, pulled a gun and began firing, leaving three of them dead. The episode is stunning and received national news coverage. See: Heath High School shooting. I have reflected and thought, “God was listening to their prayers, but He also knew what was in the heart of the boy and could see what was coming. What protection did He offer?”

People pray for all manner of help. Prayers are said for healing, assistance, prosperity, salvation, justice, and freedom—the list goes on and on.

I pray frequently during the day. It is communion, and a way to offer my thoughts up in consecration. I sense that my thoughts go into the universe and are received. Furthermore, I sense that higher beings record the impulses and confirm them. If I think positively, positive confirmation comes back.

Maybe, in the end, there is very little protection in the world. As my dear daughter Naomi said while she struggled with cancer, “Life is not fair.” During her lengthy ordeal, the only other complaint I remember her saying was, "I do not want to die a slow, painful death." Despite continual prayers from all sides, fate handed Naomi a slow, agonizing death. In the end, with her bones breaking, and suffering slow suffocation, some of her last words were, "I love my body, it has been so good to me."

And it is true, life is not fair, it is really about struggle.

Beloved

Sometimes the cruelty of this world is dumbfounding and so insulting to our senses that we recoil immediately and simply withdraw. I remember as a child when I saw someone with a mutilated face from burning, or another with missing or deformed limbs, how I felt afraid, as if beholding a monster I had only met in dreams, but now, here it was in real life. My mother would calm me and say, “Do not stare.” But the unfortunate person would ultimately be shunned because of fear.

Now that I am grown, I have no fear of people who are “different”, but rather, compassion for the great burden that they must carry all their lives. Recently, I came across a story on the Internet about victims, mostly female, of acid attacks. These young women usually were attacked because they simply asserted themselves as independent. Then, a spurned suitor or inflamed man attacked with acid, directing it at the victim’s face. It is terrible the damage that is done. See the article: Terrorism that’s personal.

In August of last year, while I was in Saigon, Vietnam, I met a young man begging on the street who was the victim of an acid attack. That week, I wrote my blog and reflected on the term “monster” and what it really means. See my blog, Monsters.

Misfortunes such as starvation, stillbirths, illnesses, have always afflicted humanity but what is truly mystifying and pointlessly tragic is the suffering humanity inflicts upon itself.

When will the human family rejoice in unity and fellowship and end the suffering it has long inflicted upon itself? Only when we see each other as precious . . . not as the “other” but as beloved.

Whenever We Ponder God

Whenever we ponder God, we are limited by the boundaries of our understanding, and soon find we must abandon hope of comprehension. For instance, our own bodies are largely mysterious to us . . . let alone the origin of matter. What I know is that the universe is intelligent beyond my imagination, that it is not by “accident”, nor is it simply the manifestation of un-intelligent chaos.

I think people have trouble accepting God because they want Him to conform to their expectations. They do not want to accept that an all-powerful, all-knowing Being who is loving will watch as horrible things occur in the world and people suffer. A “good” father would not create children with deformities who then suffer from birth and die prematurely; would He? Just looking around, we see that this world our perfect God created is far from perfect.
In my view, I still believe in God because the evidences of His might are everywhere. There is intelligence and magnificent power that exists throughout time and space and encompasses us. Certainly, when we see suffering that an almighty God could prevent, it is perplexing and painful. My daughter died of cancer when she was nineteen, and died horrifically. I watched as her lungs shut down and life turned against her, suffocating her slowly day by day, until she was gasping for air, the veins in her face and neck bulging in exertion and at last, she died. All the while, everyone was praying for healing and relief.

I believe that suffering and pain is a mysterious part of God’s plan, as much as joy, peace and happiness.

Naomi became wise beyond her years during her illness. In a way, her suffering became her teacher, and she grew enormously in this school. She said, “Hardship will make us stronger. I think that in every situation there is good in it.” See my book about Naomi, death and dying.

Many years ago, I had a dream about God: I was outdoors, at night in an open space, alone. I gazed up into the heavens and studied the small constellation called Pleiades. They were so far away in time and space and I knew God made them shine, but then how could He also be in little me too, here on earth at the same time? At that moment, a person, invisible to me and very near, spoke words that rang in my ears: “He is as close to you as your own self.” I continued looking into the night sky, gazing at the Pleiades, but instantly, a tremendous change in perception occurred within. I was no longer an outside observer of the universe, but felt the universe unfold inside of me, extending far beyond myself. The powerful shift in consciousness was startling.

Lately, as I go to sleep, I think of God and give thanks that He is Himself, (if you know what I mean.)

All Steven Boone blogs at My Fairy Tale Life