Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Wednesday Writing

I wrote this in the spring of 1995. I was reminded of Anne when visiting Kew the other weekend. For reasons I've explained in another post the plant in the photo will always be the 'cheesecake' plant to me. I still miss her.

Dying Young
Anne died on Christmas Eve. She had been ill for two years but had the sort of spirit that made you think that she couldn’t die, that she wouldn’t die.

As the illness took hold, everything that could go wrong went wrong for Anne but through it all she was able to find something to laugh about. I’m no Shakespeare or even Dylan Thomas, and I can’t capture in words the essence of Anne. She was special. At her funeral, the crowds in the church were matched only by the crowds outside, unable to get in. It was a privilege to know her.

So where was God in this? We’re supposed to be able to trust God to do the right things. Was it right to let a young mother die when he could have healed her? Nearly every part of me screams ‘No’, but somewhere deep inside is the knowledge, borne out by my own experience , that God can be trusted. More than that, he is the God who chose to let his own dearly loved son be tortured and killed for us, for me, for Anne, because he knew what the end result would be. I can’t begin to understand why tragedies like Anne’s are allowed to happen. I can only hang on to the thin thread if faith that God really does know what he’s doing. Without that, there’s really not much point in anything.

Anne would have been forty this year. Last summer while on holiday, camping under electricity pylons as only Anne could, she bought a rather expensive candle in the shape of the numbers 4 and 0, justifying it by saying, ‘If I make it to forty it will be worth celebrating.’ She didn’t and I miss her.

xx

8 comments:

Gledwood said...

God seems to take all the best people first. I think they're lucky. It's those left behind to feel sorry for, know what I mean ...

Furtheron said...

Poignant - I've known a few people not make it into old age, or even middle age, some accidents, many self inflicted, others inexplicable ills.

One thing the young forever remain young - I'm reminded of Binyons words that always hit me at Rememberance Services.

“They shall grow not old as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”

NitWit1 said...

Very touching. I remember classmates who succumbed to illnesses from which I recovered. And tragic accidents over which friends had no control.

Always the question: Why?

James Higham said...

It's doubly sad then.

jay said...

I'm so sorry. It's so very painful to lose a friend, especially when they die young - it just never does seem fair, does it?

Two of the truest things that were ever said to me are 'We have no rights in this life, we only have what we are given by the grace of God' and 'Life isn't fair'. So true that life isn't fair, but in this comfortable, affluent, 'human rights' oriented society of ours, it's easy to think it should be.

Doesn't make it easier, just perhaps a little easier to understand, once you accept that. :(

Amanda said...

That made me cry :0(

I miss my friend too.

CherryPie said...

Such a lovely tribute to your friend :-)

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