Saturday, March 06, 2010

I was talking to my folks a couple of weekends ago about their early married life. We talked about where they lived when they were first married (it is wild some of the things you learn when you start asking questions........).

They lived on a farm north of Ensley Center - a crossroads in Newaygo County. My dad's parents rented and farmed this property. Dad and mom moved their mobile home to this farm to help out his parents. One winter's night they were on their way back home when someone crossed the center line and dad and mom hit them head on. The sad part of this story is that dad and mom had their first born son in the car. He was 6 months old.

Mom recounted a few details of this accident. She remembered laying on the floor in the General Store at Ensley Center and hearing someone say "the baby is turning blue". With tears in her eyes, she said "that's all I want to say about that".

I was surprised at her last statement. I really cannot imagine the pain of loosing a child, but the accident was 51 years ago. I would have thought that the pain would have subsided. I was surprised at the intense amount of pain that she still felt. My heart wept as her heart was weeping; my heart was breaking because of her broken heart.

I have experienced this same this phenomena when I talk to men who served in WWII. They really don't want to talk about it. The horrors of war that they experienced 60 years ago still are too painful to talk about.

As I was musing on this, my mind went to the effects of sin in this world. I found myself being angry at sin and the author of sin - Satan. My dad and mom would never had to experience the death of a child if sin was not present. WWII would never have happened if sin was not present. Sin caused this pain; this deep pain that will never go away. My folks will take it to the grave with them. It grieves my heart that sin has affected our world so much and so deeply.

Maranatha - come Lord Jesus, deliver us from the ravages of sin.


  1. My parents lost their first born child, a son, at 6 months. That was 62 years ago and my dad still stops by the grave daily in the summer to water the flowers. The pain is so intense still when they speak of it. The pain from the death of a child must always be lurking just below the surface.

  2. Thanks for the comment Brenda. The older I get, the more I see pain in the world. I still have and live in a spirit of hope, but the youthful naivety that looked beyond the reality of a world with pain is now gone.