Last week John 9 came up as one of the readings in my daily devotion book. The passage opens with a question, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"
Jesus answered "Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him..."
The day after we first received Leah's diagnosis I went home to see my Mom graduate from college. That weekend I planned an open house in celebration of Mom's achievement. Organizing the party helped to distract me and gave me something positive to focus my attention on. Attending the party was very difficult, because not everyone had heard the sad news. One of my sisters stayed by my side to intervene when it became obvious that someone did not know about the change in our situation. It worked well, but there are some things that you just can’t prepare for.
About half-way through the party one of the guests said, "I don’t know very much about these things, but I'm sure that this just happened because you have so much stress from being in school and writing a dissertation."
She was right about one thing; she doesn't know very much about "these things."
Given the advances that have been made in scientific research, I thought that blaming parents for genetic problems was passé. Apparently I was wrong.
I am happy to say that this solitary comment is the only one I have had to deal with in regards to any blame that Jeff and I have in our daughter's death. We have messed up genes, and we passed them on. I don't blame myself for this any more than I blame the parent, the grandparent, the great-grandparent, and so on, who passed this on to me. None of us has any control over our genetic code. For all the faults of my DNA, I am who I am because of it, and the same goes for Jeff.
We don't know why God allowed our daughter to inherit the bad genes, all we can do is pray that God's works might be revealed through Leah's life and ours.
If only Jesus could follow us around to answer hard questions for us.
I have been thinking about the man in John 9, and his parents. They are all featured in the passage. The man is healed of his blindness, and the parents are called upon to confirm that he is their son and questioned about is healing. I wonder what they all thought when they heard Jesus' answer. Were they happy to be absolved of responsibility? Were they excited to have their lives be such an important part of God's plan? Or was it all lost in the sheer joy of knowing their son could see?
Did they question the suffering they had endured, the years of people whispering about them behind their backs, the subtle disapproval of strangers who blamed them, or the burden of guilt they had lived under assuming they had done something wrong?
Jesus answered "Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him..."
The day after we first received Leah's diagnosis I went home to see my Mom graduate from college. That weekend I planned an open house in celebration of Mom's achievement. Organizing the party helped to distract me and gave me something positive to focus my attention on. Attending the party was very difficult, because not everyone had heard the sad news. One of my sisters stayed by my side to intervene when it became obvious that someone did not know about the change in our situation. It worked well, but there are some things that you just can’t prepare for.
About half-way through the party one of the guests said, "I don’t know very much about these things, but I'm sure that this just happened because you have so much stress from being in school and writing a dissertation."
She was right about one thing; she doesn't know very much about "these things."
Given the advances that have been made in scientific research, I thought that blaming parents for genetic problems was passé. Apparently I was wrong.
I am happy to say that this solitary comment is the only one I have had to deal with in regards to any blame that Jeff and I have in our daughter's death. We have messed up genes, and we passed them on. I don't blame myself for this any more than I blame the parent, the grandparent, the great-grandparent, and so on, who passed this on to me. None of us has any control over our genetic code. For all the faults of my DNA, I am who I am because of it, and the same goes for Jeff.
We don't know why God allowed our daughter to inherit the bad genes, all we can do is pray that God's works might be revealed through Leah's life and ours.
If only Jesus could follow us around to answer hard questions for us.
I have been thinking about the man in John 9, and his parents. They are all featured in the passage. The man is healed of his blindness, and the parents are called upon to confirm that he is their son and questioned about is healing. I wonder what they all thought when they heard Jesus' answer. Were they happy to be absolved of responsibility? Were they excited to have their lives be such an important part of God's plan? Or was it all lost in the sheer joy of knowing their son could see?
Did they question the suffering they had endured, the years of people whispering about them behind their backs, the subtle disapproval of strangers who blamed them, or the burden of guilt they had lived under assuming they had done something wrong?
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1 comment:
Wow! Great post. It is those unanswered questions that drive you crazy. It would be nice if Jesus followed us around and answered them. You gave me some things to think about!
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