Oh, I thought about You the day that Beth died
And You meant me between my breaking
I know that I still love you God, despite the agony
‘Cause people tell me, they tell me you’re cruel
But if Beth could sing, she’d say it’s not true
‘Cause You’re good
‘Cause He loves us, oh how He loves us
Whoa, how He loves us…
Most people have not heard the third verse of How He Loves – which even before Beth died, I found the most powerful. To those who do not know the story behind this song, pulled from Wikipedia ‘cuz I’m super classy like that:
“McMillan wrote “How He Loves” following the death of his best friend, Stephen Coffey.Coffey was a youth minister for MorningStar Ministries. On November 1, 2002, during a church prayer meeting, Coffey prayed out loud “I’d give my life today if it would shake the youth of the nation.” That very night, he was in a multi-car accident and died of serious injuries.”
So, I changed the name/gender to be about Beth. My faith has been a clusterfuck lately. It’s been a mess. I don’t know that I’d call myself a Christian but I do call myself a Christ-follower. I love God. I know he’s real. Despite the pain.
Despite the grief.
Despite my world crashing down while I’m literally thousands of miles away.
While my heart is somewhere else entirely.
And I find my faith shaken.
Why the hell did someone who had been through so much shit have to die before things could get better?
Why the hell can’t our broken system help people who need it, instead of leaving them to find for themselves?
Why the hell does this shit have to happen?
On what Earth is this fair?
Why did I lose one of the people I love the most on the day love won?
Why is the day that love one for so many, is the day my heart broke?
But I know Beth wouldn’t want my faith to be shaken.
I know she wouldn’t want me to doubt God and wonder what His purpose is in all this,
I know she would have some smart-ass answer, that would make me laugh until I cried.
And then everything would be okay.
I bought her wombat today, though. Oh, how she teased me about bringing her home a wombat. She wanted me to smuggle a real one, you see. Because ANZ security TOTES (my use of totes is intentional because she would rim the hell out of me for using it). So it’s not a real one. Sorry, Beth. But I know, with all my heart, you are getting your wombat nuzzle right now.