Good to Go to Mexico (Thanks for the title, Toby!)

In the car this morning, driving to school through thick fog, Aaron asked why it was so foggy. I launched into an explanation of hot-air/cold-air and what happens when they meet. Aaron contemplated my answers, and pondered aloud a new question: "I wonder if it's foggy in Mexico." (I wouldn't know.) And then, as if a new realization had suddenly struck him, "I've never BEEN to Mexico!"

From the sidekick next to him (Victoria): "I have."

Aaron quickly corrected her. "No you haven't!"

"Yuh-huuuuhh. I have TOO been to Mexico!"

Now, Aaron cannot stand to hear Victoria fib, and is quick to call her to task when he senses her losing loyalty for the truth. So, through clenched teeth Aaron reprimands, "Victoria, YOU HAVE NOT BEEN TO MEXICO!!!"

To which she stubbornly replied, "Well, I've been to TACO BELL!"

Why?

A child died this week in our community. His funeral is beginning just as I write this. Through complete accident his little life ended at two years, and though I did not know him or his family, I mourn with them. I know that I have been blessed far beyond what I deserve, and at times like this I wonder why bad things happen to good people. I wonder how on earth his parents and family will ever be able to move forward from his loss. I pray for them that they will find peace and joy again in the future. I pray and cry, and pray and cry, and wonder how many times I could have stood in the shoes of anyone who suffers as much, "but by the grace of God..."
I believe that "all things work for the glory of God." I believe it, but I don't see it. I was driving away from work yesterday pondering this issue, and I thought of Dom's fraternity. They had a t-shirt printed one year with their greek motto emblazoned across the back, and underneath it was the phrase, "We don't expect you to understand." I used to laugh at their arrogance (sorry, guys), but as I thought of this t-shirt in light of all my prayers for this family, I wondered if God wasn't saying the same thing to me. "Lori, I don't expect you to understand." I am not expected to see the inner workings of God among us...I can't possibly identify the good that will come out of this terrible situation. I cannot know each person's heart, each person's struggle, and each person's relationship with God. Suffering brings some people closer to him, and I see some people pull away from him in times of loss. But I cannot possibly understand why this baby died, why his parents have to suffer the enormous tragedy of their situation, and how this is all for the glory of God.
No, he does not expect me to understand. But he does expect me to trust. And, trust I will. I know that he sees far more of this life than I do. So, I have to believe that there is something good that will spring forth from this tragedy. I may never get to see it or identify it, but I know it will be there. Just as he is. I will pray some more, I will likely cry some more, but I will trust.

Reflections from Easter 2006

Just prior to Easter, in an effort to point out that the Easter Bunny's pending visit was not the crux of the holiday, I ventured into explaining the Trinity to Aaron and Victoria - a lesson I knew would be over their heads, but important nonetheless. We sat on my bed talking about how the Three are also One. I admit I did a lot of repeating myself because Aaron was wiggling and restlessly sprawling all over the bed as if to say "yeah, we get it. Can we go now?" Victoria punctuated every sentence I said with, "But why?" and in a feeble attempt to answer her, I kept droning.

When I was finally satisfied that I had said all I could say on the subject, I asked if there was anything they wanted to add about the Father, the Son, or the Holy Spirit. Victoria replied, "He's on my shoulders."

What?

"He's on my shoulders."

Who?

"The Holy Spirit!" (duh, Mom!) and she touched both shoulders as she completed making the Sign of the Cross. I gazed at her, smiling, and she proceeded to cross herself again, this time saying, "See? Father, Son, Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is on my shoulders!" How amazing, I thought. Is that what it means? Did my four-year-old just educate me on what should have been obvious? The Spirit was left, after all, to continue showing us the way. Is He poised like a protective parent, hands on the child's shoulder to keep the child from straying too far, perhaps leaning to whisper in our ear the way we should choose in our daily decisions?

As I contemplate the Sign of the Cross now, I am renewed with the vision of God in our thoughts, Jesus in our hearts, and the Holy Spirit gently guiding us by the shoulders. Thank you, Vic, for your wisdom. I love learning from you.