What’s it all about, Alfie?
Man, I am a mess about this little boy, Alfie Evans, and the grief his parents now carry.
Shan and I might have lost our only son at just about the age Alfie was. He was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at 22 months, and was very sick for a while.
Is this some kind of cosmic test, this unbearably short life?
If so, how are we supposed to answer in a way that saves the life of the next Alfie, so no 23-old-month toddler ever dies again?
Is this some sort of eternal battle between God and Satan that left Alfie as collateral damage?
Is God so stymied by the forces of evil that He finds himself facing the complexity we’re trying to sort out, of finding a solution to the slaughter of hundreds of thousands in Syria? Little children, gassed, bombed, starved as we watch on our phones and drink our $5 lattes.
Is it all just random, good luck or bad, without meaning, like stepping on a tiny ant you didn’t even see?
If we came from perfection, why are we so imperfect?
If we can send settlers to colonize Mars, why can’t we cure cancer and other diseases that knock down the doors of our lives, trying to destroy everything and everyone within ever-widening circles?
If we can afford to spend over $600 BILLION for weapons for decades, year after year after year, why can’t we provide the best health care for all who need it?
When we know there is so much heartache, so much pain, in almost every life surrounding ours, why is our compassion so limited, like if we use it too much, it’ll run out?
Why can’t I find someone who can answer my questions?
What happened to the thinkers, the philosophers of our time? Where are our moral leaders?
Are we doomed to rage at each other in Twitter rants, or cloister within our tribe, feeling superior, smarter, better somehow than those in the other tribe?
I have only questions, not answers, and that itself is so sad.
But today I would ask you to say a prayer for Alfie’s parents and just in case He’s listening, ask God to come back and help us again.
Because I, for one, feel lost, abandoned.
To get thine ends,
lay bashfulness aside;
Who fears to ask,
doth teach to be deny’d.
~ Robert Herrick