Why Me?

 

Why Me?

Why me?  Why my child?  Why my loved one, relative or friend?  It’s a question often asked at a time that life has overwhelmed us.  It seems to be our nature to search for meaning in the moment.  It’s a question that I hear a lot when working with families dealing with loss.  So, it wasn’t surprising to me when the “why question” came up this week as Michelle and I attended the funeral of her good friend’s brother.  The question was even expected, given her brother died unexpectantly and suddenly.  There was no time to plan, no time to say good bye.

What was completely unexpected was the context of the question.  We had found Michelle’s friend in the crowded funeral home, and made our way over to her for hugs and condolences.  She was mentioning to us the many people who were gathered there for her brother, the hundreds of photos on half a dozen picture boards that were literally snapshots in time of happier moments when she said, “He always asked ‘why me’?   Why was I so blessed?  Why me out of all the children in the orphanage?  Her brother had been adopted by her parents. 

Life started difficult for her brother Paul.  He was born in South Korea to an unknown American GI and a Korean woman. His biological father was never in the picture.  Because he was of mixed descent he encountered much ridicule, especially after his birth mother died.  He ran away from home and lived on the streets.  The odds of survival were not in his favor, but another orphan who he had met on the streets brought him to the orphanage where he could at least have the basic necessities of life. 

1964 was a time when many people, even in the land of the free, did not embrace members of another race, let alone someone who was of mixed race.  And most hopeful couples then and probably fair to say yet today, looking at adoption are hoping to find a very young child, better yet a newborn child, this little boy was adopted by a family in Wisconsin at the age of 11.  So, at that young age, Paul was put on a plane and flew halfway around the world, to a totally different country.  Paul’s adoptive parents already had six children of their own, so it was even more unusual that such a large family would even be open to adoption.

Paul received his faith, belonging, love and opportunity from his new family and his own hard work.  He learned a trade and had a successful career.  He and his wife were married for nearly 34 years and they had much-loved children and grandchildren together.  He had a passion for travel and adventure, and even returned to South Korea twice; he was able to reconnect with a brother there.  And, in the end, he had hundreds of family and friends gathered to honor him, show their love, and to help pray him into his heavenly home.

I usually counsel people who ask the ‘why’ question in times of grief and loss to try not to focus on that question.  That question can keep us fixated on our loss, on the seeming unfairness of the situation.  It is a question that troubles us because we can’t answer it.  Instead, I suggest that they focus on the ‘what’ question.  What, God are you calling me to do because of this situation?  What is an empowering question, because it redirects our hearts outward.  Much good in this world has come from people asking the what question.  Sometimes they start something that touches hundreds of other lives.  Sometimes they simply become examples of unshakeable faith and love unconquered for others to hope to emulate.

But, perhaps the ‘why question’, when asked not about loss, but blessings may be a good question.   It can be an especially good question when it leads to a deeper appreciation of the love and the loved in our lives.  It can lead to a greater awareness of God acting in our lives.  It can lead, not to confusion, but to the answer that you are a beloved child of God.  He loves you.

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan     

Photo by Pierre Bamin on Unsplash