Poured out

When Mildred dressed for work yesterday morning, she probably didn’t dream she was doing her daily routine for the very last time.

When Carl drank his morning coffee, he probably didn’t contemplate that his life would change forever.

Our little farm community has been rocked by a horrible tragedy, a harvest accident that took the life of a woman and left a crew of harvesters shaken in horror. There was no fault in this accident, no finger-pointing to be done.

All involved are long-time residents of the area, with family and friends threaded throughout the community. No one is untouched by this tragedy. We feel the ache of loss, the agony of passing.

Mildred’s family has already lost their father and a brother. Now their mother has been snatched from them in an instant.

For Carl, who was driving the machine, we have compassion. His is the suffering of regret, although he could not have prevented the accident.

….like water spilled out on the ground…..*

Life cannot be recovered. The innocence of yesterday is gone.

We’re tempted to ask WHY?

But the answers are not in understanding. Our relief doesn’t come in uncovering a good reason for all this. We don't gain by trying to judge the purpose of a tragedy.

Comfort comes in one place. We must ask the who question. Who is our comfort? We forget that we are tender grass, burned by the heat of the day. Life withers us.

Jesus remembers. He wept before Lazarus’ grave. He healed with compassion. He always lives to make intercession for us.

“You are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love “

Jonah 4:2

*2 Sam 14:14