Years ago
while teaching a parenting class, I interviewed a couple in our church
who advocated letting children have pets. Pets, they said, teach
children about life. They are born, get sick, must be cared for, and
die. Having grown up on a farm-- though I had never consciously made
that connection-- I knew they were exactly right.
Alena
learned that lesson today when we discovered we would have to put one of
her bunnies to sleep. Cupcake (the bunny) had either a tumor or an
abscessed tooth under her chin. Surgery would be required with the
likelihood of continued problems down the road either way, with both
options costing a lot of money. (Please don't think I'm an ogre; I'll
spend money on our pets within reason; but when you have a family to
take care of, there are limits.) When I told her Cupcake would have to
be put to sleep she cried, trying to come to terms with the loss of
something she loved and the pain in her heart.
My heart
broke as well. Not so much for the bunny; I learned years ago that pets
come and go. You love and let go of them. No, my heart hurt for Alena,
my child that I love. I hurt because she hurt. I hugged her and sqeezed
her as she trembled and sobbed. And the kicker is I could have stopped
it from happening. I could have paid the huge amount of money needed to
keep the bunny alive. But no amount of money would change the fact the
bunny would eventually die. Death must be faced in life. So, I chose for
Alena to learn that physical things come and go—even things that we
love. That's a life lesson every child needs to learn. I chose for her
to learn that sometimes life stinks-- that's why we long for heaven.
And, I chose for her to face it with her family at her side loving her.
As I sat
down at my desk later and reflected, I began to wonder if this is what
God feels like when we hurt. Just as I had to choose, God chooses, too.
He could remove all our immediate sufferings and problems. Every one of
them. However, to do so would not teach us that hanging on to a physical
world and things that will eventually hinder our desire for spiritual
things. Therefore (it seems to me), God allows us to suffer at the
moment. He allows us to be reminded of the pains we face here, so that
with each sorrow we can let go of this world of sorrows around us. He
does not do so indifferently; He hurts as well
(1 Peter 5:7).
As we sing,
“His heart is touched with our grief." But in doing so, He reminds us
through His word that He loves us, wraps His arms around us and squeezes
all the harder.
Other Articles
Is All of Life Worship?
I
Was Wrong
The Right Words
We Are Simply Christians