Katrina: A Father's Neglect?

Anyone who looks at the death and suffering down along the gulf coast or on a grander scale, the tsunami victims of the Indian ocean, naturally enough asks himself how a loving father in heaven could allow this to happen. Where was our Father when all this took place?

I'll answer that question with an analogous story about another seemingly neglectful father. I turned fifty-one this year, but today I've been thinking about my first two days in the nursery at Marion General Hospital. From beginning to end the experience was filled with pain, disappointment, regret, and a general lack of consideration on the part of my father.

Where do I begin? The crib they placed me in was drab and very plain. Some of the other babies had newer and brightly colored cribs. And one of my wheels wobbled. Why me? My mother's milk was fine. But some of the other infants got formula, and though it wouldn't have been as good for me, I think I should have been afforded the experience. And maybe there was another breast nearby that had sweeter more abundant milk? Sadly I'll never know. There was a child in the crib next to mine that I liked and whose company gave me comfort. Suddenly he was gone. And what about the time the doctor came in and circumcised me? How could a loving father allow that to happen? All that pain and humiliation... Where was Dad then? There were many rooms in the hospital that I never got to see. Dad could have easily addressed that situation. And the most painful inequity of all was that I only had 48 hours in the nursery. Some infants had 49, 50.... Some even got to stay for 72 hours!!! How was that fair?

Still, I left the nursery a long time ago and I now know that Dad had an entirely different perspective on my first two days at the hospital. He was there for me, making sure that I had everything I needed, even if I didn’t get everything I wanted. He was thinking about getting my room painted… about my first steps… the talks we would have and the things we would do when I was no longer encumbered by such an underdeveloped brain and body. I think the reason why I cried so much was simply because… all I could see was the nursery. I should have had more faith in my father.

The things of the nursery seemed very important at the time, but my life didn’t really begin until my father took me home.

Its not a perfect analogy but I hope it expresses how God sees our short time on this earth very differently than we do. Even for Christians its hard to grasp that our lives aren't about us and our comforts. Its hard to remember that this life isn't the party. As we write our checks to our favorite Christian relief organization (I've chosen I.D.E.S. see below), its important to remember that our job is to love and take care of each other... and to believe that our Father's plan is perfect.

I.D.E.S. (International Disaster Emergency Services)
P.O. Box 60
Kempton, IN46049