Just Ol'Rastus
2012-03-10 17:14:41 UTC
It's beyond SILLY to [claim to] believe that "god" or "jesus" bestows
more attention and compassion and succor on one individual [and his or
her prayers] than on another individual's pleas.
Give us break!
------------------------------------
On Faith Local
The Washington Post
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
"Prayers aren’t always answered"
David and Vicki Sharrett live in Oakton, Virginia. Their son, David
Sharrett II, a soldier serving in Iraq, was shot by his own lieutenant
in a case of “friendly fire” in 2008.
David: When my son, David Sharrett II, was stationed in Iraq, I
prayed, because I believed God heard my prayers. I entrusted Dave’s
safety to God, because as a parent, that was all I could do to find
comfort in that situation.
My life changed when I received the news that Dave was gone, that he
had been killed in action. My heart was ripped out of me like old
wallpaper stripped off a base not properly primed. In the tatters were
hurt, confusion and anger. I was angry with God. It became winter in
my soul.
Compounding the grief and feeling of isolation were the questions
about Dave’s death. Winter turned into frozen tundra.
There were times when I was so paralyzed by anger and frustration that
all I could do was crawl into bed and try to sleep. In those moments,
the only comfort came through uttering the name of Jesus over and over
again.
When I asked God if Dave was okay, I got a sign. I was walking along
the beach at high tide. I said out loud, “Lord, tell me that Dave’s
okay.” I looked into the tide and saw a piece of sea glass, which you
would never normally see at that time of the day. Even more amazingly,
that particular piece of sea glass turned out to be a very rare
artifact. That was my sign that Dave was okay.
Dave’s death was crushing to me. It’s difficult to go through
something like that and not have your faith become a little rocky. I
sometimes still have trouble praying. But I know that just because God
called my son home doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.
Vicki: Every day, I prayed he would come home safely. He told me he
would come home, and I believed him. But it wasn’t God’s will for Dave
to come home. Instead, God took Dave home to be with Jesus.
That didn’t shake my faith, because I trust God completely. It doesn’t
mean I like it. It doesn’t mean it’s what I want or that it’s a
satisfactory outcome in any shape or form. But I trust God with
everything I have.
When you know the Truth and believe the Truth, you can never get away
from it completely. Some walk stronger in the path, some weaker.
It’s the relationship with Dave that’s gone. I don’t like how it
affects us, or those who loved him. In that respect, death is
extremely unsatisfactory. But it doesn’t change my relationship with
Jesus.
But I can’t say now that if someone is going to serve where there’s
fighting that God will automatically protect him and bring him home.
I know it’s not always answered the way you want it to be.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/todays_paper?dt=2012-03-10&bk=B&pg=2
more attention and compassion and succor on one individual [and his or
her prayers] than on another individual's pleas.
Give us break!
------------------------------------
On Faith Local
The Washington Post
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
"Prayers aren’t always answered"
David and Vicki Sharrett live in Oakton, Virginia. Their son, David
Sharrett II, a soldier serving in Iraq, was shot by his own lieutenant
in a case of “friendly fire” in 2008.
David: When my son, David Sharrett II, was stationed in Iraq, I
prayed, because I believed God heard my prayers. I entrusted Dave’s
safety to God, because as a parent, that was all I could do to find
comfort in that situation.
My life changed when I received the news that Dave was gone, that he
had been killed in action. My heart was ripped out of me like old
wallpaper stripped off a base not properly primed. In the tatters were
hurt, confusion and anger. I was angry with God. It became winter in
my soul.
Compounding the grief and feeling of isolation were the questions
about Dave’s death. Winter turned into frozen tundra.
There were times when I was so paralyzed by anger and frustration that
all I could do was crawl into bed and try to sleep. In those moments,
the only comfort came through uttering the name of Jesus over and over
again.
When I asked God if Dave was okay, I got a sign. I was walking along
the beach at high tide. I said out loud, “Lord, tell me that Dave’s
okay.” I looked into the tide and saw a piece of sea glass, which you
would never normally see at that time of the day. Even more amazingly,
that particular piece of sea glass turned out to be a very rare
artifact. That was my sign that Dave was okay.
Dave’s death was crushing to me. It’s difficult to go through
something like that and not have your faith become a little rocky. I
sometimes still have trouble praying. But I know that just because God
called my son home doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.
Vicki: Every day, I prayed he would come home safely. He told me he
would come home, and I believed him. But it wasn’t God’s will for Dave
to come home. Instead, God took Dave home to be with Jesus.
That didn’t shake my faith, because I trust God completely. It doesn’t
mean I like it. It doesn’t mean it’s what I want or that it’s a
satisfactory outcome in any shape or form. But I trust God with
everything I have.
When you know the Truth and believe the Truth, you can never get away
from it completely. Some walk stronger in the path, some weaker.
It’s the relationship with Dave that’s gone. I don’t like how it
affects us, or those who loved him. In that respect, death is
extremely unsatisfactory. But it doesn’t change my relationship with
Jesus.
But I can’t say now that if someone is going to serve where there’s
fighting that God will automatically protect him and bring him home.
I know it’s not always answered the way you want it to be.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/todays_paper?dt=2012-03-10&bk=B&pg=2