WE BEGIN, as mortals on Earth, with a million questions.
By the time we’re four or five years into our beliefs here, we know there are answers and we intend to find them. And sure enough, by the time we’ve spent a few decades here, watched blessings that we thought were disasters when they happened, we have some answers that work for us.
Comes a time when we have so many answers that there’s hardly a question we haven’t resolved and we sail easily through the deep waters that once were reefs and shoals of unsolved mysteries.
Troubles are events for us, we don’t have to worry about what used to be the tests, to be the problems for us to solve. By the time difficult times arrive, we’ve already got matched answers trotting four abreast.
But all these answers! Can we share them with those few who might be interested?
Can we list a problem that seemed to be impossible when we met it, and that’s now a quiet gentle answer?
I don’t know, but I’ll try:
My daughter was a beautiful teenager. Years ago, there was an accident on a snowy windy night, another car left its lane and hit her automobile in a head-on collision. Minutes before, for no reason, my daughter had unfastened her seat belt. With the crash, she was killed almost instantly.
What were the odds, that two women in the other car would lose control in the snow and the wind and the dark at just the second that my daughter’s car was traveling straight and level in the other lane? Every other person survived the crash.
So rare, the odds, that they’re was no chance of it happening. One in millions of possibilities…what could have told her to unlatch her seat belt and shoulder harness, at exactly the moment she did?
Is there any way to explain this thing we called a winter accident? I thought no, there’s no possibility.
Not long after the crash though, my other daughter, her dearest friend, began receiving messages from her sister. She told us that her sister is happy and busy in her afterlife, that she loves being a help to young girls who have come over swiftly, who might be puzzled about what has happened and what lessons it offered for her friends and family.
How could she have understood the mission that she chose, I thought, if she had not died as she did, in the snow and the wind and the night? Had she lived a long uneventful life, could she have felt the way other young women feel, ending a lifetime early?
This story may mean nothing to some readers. Others will find a different explanation for the event: it was not a choice that we can make; it was God’s will; it was bad luck.
And yet, for me, and I think for my daughters, their answer changes the shadows that darkened that night. Their answer brought light, just as we hoped it could bring, to every one of our lives.