"Perhaps God tires of calling
the aged to His fold,
So He picks a rosebud
before it can grow old ..."
Most of the things I don't understand, someone can sit me down and teach me. Or at least have some semblance of an explanation. Whether I can understand said explanation is a different story, but the explanation is more than likely reasonable, something the semi-educated person can grasp.
I don't understand the death of a child.
People can stop many things in this world. People can explain many problems. People can heal many illnesses. When a child passes, people cannot do any of those things. Cannot stop grieving. Cannot explain sorrow. Cannot heal broken hearts. Only time can do those things. And in this saddest of circumstances, time is against us.
We want time to pass more quickly: to begin our healing, end our grieving, explain our sorrow. Sadly, it doesn't. Everything moves in slow motion; every second feels like an hour, every hour a day, and so on.
All we can do is sit and wait for time to catch up to us, a race that can't be won.
When an adult dies, there's the expectation that person lived their life -- played their first tee ball game, had their first kiss, went on their first date, owned their first car, had their first job. That person had experiences that can be reflected upon. When a child dies, there are only what-ifs.
We can think about the joy children bring us, the beauty that pours out of them. We can think of all of the happiness they filled the world with in their short time here. We can tell stories and show pictures and laugh and cry and laugh some more.
But then there's the silence. Then, the tears. Lather, rinse, repeat.
You might be able to give me reasons for why a child dies, but you can't ever explain it. It's one of those things in this world I will never fully understand.
"...So when a little child departs,
we who are left behind
Must realize God loves children --
Angels are hard to find."
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