Another open letter to God

Not a Pagan God, not a Christian God, not a Buddhist God. Just Deity.

Yeah, it’s me again. My heart aches. I’m angry and sad and sick and helpless. It’s 4am and I can’t sleep. All I can do is pray for the families of those two young men. I’m not sure why you saw fit or they saw fit to be killed in such a horrific and stupid manner. I’m not sure why you saw fit or D’s spirit saw fit for him to have to try to save the young man trapped in the car. D will probably carry what he saw tonight, and the cries for help he heard for the rest of his life.

He has a concept of what you are but not enough to understand why you’d allow two twenty year old kids to race their car down the road, wreak out and die in his parking lot at his job. He called me around 12:45am, it sounded like he’d been crying or screaming or maybe both. I rushed to his work only to see one of the poor kids still lying in the road. Police taking pictures of the car or what was left of it anyway, bystanders surveying what seemed like a horror movie being played out in slow motion. The sheet covering his body being picked up so the police could take pictures of a kid that took part in making a stupid decision that cost him and the driver of the car their lives.

After wading through the crowd I spotted D. His eyes looked tired and in shock. On the way home he went over tiny bits and pieces. When tying to help the kid trapped in the car he nearly stumbled over the body of the passenger that had been thrown out on impact. D knew he was dead so he begged those around him for something to cover the body with while he tried to help and comfort the young man still trapped. No one would help him. D was alone trying to stay sane and bring sanity to an insane situation and people who would only stand and stare. Why? What’s the lesson in this? Why did my husband have to get pulled into such a nightmare?

When we got home D looked sick. Drained. He kept asking if I thought the young men’s families had been notified, asking if I thought the young man trapped and dying heard him trying to comfort him through his screams for help and the screams of onlookers. How am I supposed to counsel this? He kept saying he couldn’t stop seeing that young man laying dead, mangled and unrecognizable on the ground. He couldn’t stop hearing the pleas for help coming from inside that crushed wreak. How can I relieve him of that image, those sounds? He kept asking me to pray for those two young men.

Well God, I think those two young men are in good hands now. I think they’re going to be okay. It’s their families and my husband I’m asking for mercy for. The mother’s of those boys who have to plan funerals now. Mercy, that’s what I’m asking for. Dad and I went through the knock on the door at 2am. The man in the neatly pressed uniform saying “There’s been an accident” and “She didn’t make it” when mom died. We know that pain. Now I grieve for the families. Their world, like ours was, is going to be thrown into anarchy. Please comfort them, bring them peace. Show them mercy.

Mom, if you’re listening, please comfort those mothers and help their son’s with the transition over.