Do you remember Paul Harvey...The guy who always started his radio gig with..."And Now You Know The Rest Of The Story"?
Well, we're all sitting here waiting for "the rest of the story", when in reality, we more than likely will never get it.
I spent five hours yesterday with Drew's best friend trying to make sense of all of the unopened bills and scribbled notes left behind in heaping piles.
We had speculated that Drew was in a world of financial hurt. He had a little piece of himself in real estate transactions across the city, and with the economy in the state it is in, we suspected that this was the root of his anxiety and insomnia.
After sorting through bills, county records, and everything else we could get our hands on, this does not seem to be the case. This is great news for his wife, but it begs the question - WHY THEN?
I think I'm like most people in that I want things delivered to me in a neat little package. B happened because of A and because of those things we now arrive at C. Thank you, I can file that in my little noggin and move on with my life knowing that my mind is filled with only things that make perfect sense. Wait, you've got something that doesn't make perfect sense? But needs to be filed into my brain? No can do. I'll need to sit with that, possibly obsess about that until I can somehow, someway fit it into my own neat little package.
My package was very neat, indeed. Money issues and stress led to anxiety and insomnia, which led to a shot in the head in the master closet, which led to his wife finding him and an ended life. File into mind. Experience sadness. Move on.
What do you do when things don't add up? When they don't make sense? When there is no package of any size to adequately wrap this tragedy?
I suppose this is where faith and acceptance must step in and take over.
It was an amazing funeral service with one moment in particular that I will never forget. Friends and family had just taken turns sharing memories and asking the question, WHY, when Drew's father stood up. He looked extremely calm as he looked into the eyes of all of the people in that overcrowded church and said "Despite Our Loss, God Is Good."
I looked over at my husband and just lost it. How is it possible for someone to endure such loss and not be angry? Angry at his son. Angry at the world. Angry at God.
And maybe that's the lesson for me in all of this. Not everything needs to always fit into a neat little package. That things don't need to make an ounce of sense to me. That faith makes this possible.
And isn't it comforting to know that we don't always have to know the rest of the story...because God always does?
