A friend, who is younger than I, is now in hospice, dying of cancer. It has not escaped my notice that I've survived cancer for the time being, while she did not. This begs the question--why her and not me? Why did she get the death sentence while I was spared?
This has always been a tricky question that arises when life throws you a curve ball (or in the case of cancer, when life throws you a grenade). I don't claim to have the answer. But I do know, that as modern day Americans, we've come to expect a Disney ending to tragic things of life. And it's just not so.
Why did I get life over others in my condition? It's not because I'm exceptional, or that God loves me more, or that prayers for me outweighed prayers for others. I've known far better and nicer people--with much greater faith--to experience an early death while I lived. You have to wonder why.
After pondering this over time, here's what I hold to be true: "To whom much is given, much is required."
My writer-counselor friend, Sue, wrote a poem, "The Scarecrow” in which she points out that our life experiences "make our stuffing deep, rich and available for God’s use, whenever and however He decides to scatter it."
So, until the day comes when I'm in hospice, I'm in a strategic position to be a blessing to others. After all, it's what's required.