Torch, Winter 1981

the proper side of the road was going up a small rise and another car passing in the wrong lane was coming up the other side of the rise when they met head-on. Both cars were thrown into the ditch; one was on fire. He thought that some people from the church were involved. I asked him if they had been taken to the hospital, and he said they had and told me which hospital. "Immediately I called the hospital and asked the switchboard operator if these people had been ad– mitted. The answer was 'Yes.' I asked about their condition, and she replied that she was not al– lowed to give that information over the phone . When I told her that I was their pastor, she said, 'Oh, if you are their pastor, you should get here as soon as you can. ' "I raced to the hospital and into the emergency ward . I looked to my left and saw nurses and sev– eral doctors feverishly working over a small body. I went to the next room, and there was my friend Dave whom I pastored. He was unconscious, struggling in a coma. The doctors and aides who were standing around his bed had to hold him down. From another room I heard someone call, 'Pastor, Pastor, is that you?' I walked across the hall and there, in a state of shock, lay Dave's wife, Debbie. We chatted for a moment, and I was re– lieved that she did not ask about her son's condi– tion. "Soon it was decided to rush them to a better– equipped hospital. There Debbie spent several hours in surgery while the physicians sewed to– gether her face that had struck and shattered the windshield. I learned that Sean had gone on to be with the Lord while en route to the second hospi– tal. "Later the family asked ifl would stay until it was time to share the news with Debbie about her son. Another man in my church remained through the night with me. We waited hour after hour for Deb– bie to ask about her Sean . She finally did . The nurses from the intensive care unit asked me to tell her that her son was gone. I don't know that I have ever faced a more difficult moment in the ministry than when I told her their little boy whom they loved so dearly was much better now in the tender care of Jesus. God had required from them their son, their only son, the son whom they loved. I began to understand in a measure what God had asked Abraham to do .. ." Debbie and I were unable to attend the burial be– cause of our hospital confinement. As my wife re– covered from shock and I emerged from the coma after several days, the sensation of reality gripped our hearts. Grief dealt a sure and staggering blow to our then emo– tionally stark existence. We prepared for the memorial service two weeks later. Slowly the tide of un~nswered questions began to flood our minds . Why? Why would God ... ? Why should He snatch away the life of a babe at the hands of a drunken driver? It seemed especially unfair because we were His children. Was this punishment for some– thimg we had done wrong? These often-asked ques– tions were no longer the subject of intellectual pursuit. They had stepped into our lives and began testing the fiber of our faith. As our minds pondered causes and reasons and our hearts ached with emotion, His spirit began to deal with our spirits and our sorrow. His Word--the same Word and the same passages--seemed to hold new content. What seemed to be familiar old verses now revealed new promises and explanations . For instance, in John 9 we read again that the man was blind--not because of the sin of his parents, but for the glory of God. The story of Job took on new meaning for us. His ability to handle grief brought glory to God. Abraham's testing in Gene– sis impressed us anew. We understood how God was glorified. But what about the death of our Sean? For the glory of God? How? As the years have separated us from that tragic night, our vision of God's purpose has cleared. We now see two precious reasons for the death of our son: our enablement to be a comfort to those who have likewise suffered a death, and our ability to be a witness to unbe– lievers who have no hope beyond death. Both in public and in private, Debbie and I have shared our story. It, of course, sounds trite to say that we are better people for it and that He has used it mightily in our lives. But we are– -and He has. We are stronger, and our witness has strengthened others. " ... that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort where– with we ourselves are comforted by God" (II Corinthi– ans 1:4). Our unsaved friends still ask, "Why?" We tell them, but few believe. However, because they ask, we have the opportunity of sharing with them that death is not the end, but there is eternal life in heaven or hell, de– pending on one's relationship with Christ. Here in this life we know only a small part of His plan for our lives and have seen only a portion of the glory resulting from the loss of our firstborn. But some– day when we see our God, He will tell us more, and in that day we will see Sean! 5