Treats
By Susan Larson
When I enter the kitchen in the morning, the cat meows and brushes up
against me. He thinks the only reasons I'm there is to give him treats. In
his limited little brain he has no way of comprehending I am there first
of all to make coffee, then write last minute checks for school
activities, unload the dishwasher, start a load of laundry, etc. The cat
is not at the top of my priority list and he can't comprehend why. But
then do I even comprehend why? Why do I create such a flurry of activity
before I've even had my first cup of coffee? Is the cat really less
important that a load of sheets? I don't have the answers.
As I sit back and realize I can't always figure out how I think, I
really marvel at people who seem to know how God thinks. For example, some
seem to know that death is God's will. God willfully causes people to die.
If this is true, then why should anyone have to apologize for the
Holocaust? Some tell me God needs to take certain people back to help
fulfill His plan. It's a nice sentiment, but if He's God, why does he need
help from us?
Some say God takes a loved one in order to teach us something. So do
all the family members need to learn the same lesson? Or are things so
orchestrated that they each learn their own individualized lesson from m a
single death? And if they don't know what they're supposed to learn, how
do they know if they've learned it?
There are many theories, philosophies and speculations about God and I
accept them as just that. Some might even make sense in certain
circumstances. Maybe some of the above are true? Maybe all of the above
are true, but not all the time? But who knows?
I know I can't comprehend God, much less how He juggles the activities
in His kitchen. The only thing I can say for God is that He knows that,
too. Isn't that why He sent His Son to communicate with us at our level
with words and deeds we can comprehend? As I continue to go through the
grieving process, the most comforting words I hear continue to be those I
understand: "I love you," "I'm praying for you."
"Go ahead and cry." "I'm here for you." It kinda makes
me think I know how the cat feels when I give him his treats.
Susan Larson and her husband live in Lilburn, GA. She is a weekly
columnist for the Gwinnett Daily Post and writes for several other monthly
publications. More of her writings can be read at Grand
Larson-e. Their family includes three surviving children
and three grandchildren. Susan's son, Loren, died Thanksgiving eve,
1998, forty days after his 16th birthday. He would have graduated
from high school in May 2001.
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