Why Some Are Taken, Why Some Are Not
A short piece I wrote on hope and faith during the lowest times, for anyone hurting.
Imagine yourself on a boat out at sea. Waves violently swing around you, with splashes slowly growing in size as you slosh around, desperately trying to balance the poor vessel and yourself. Thunder and lightning roar and gnash their teeth at you from above, unforgiving and seemingly unstoppable in their abuse. You wonder why you’re in such a situation. Was it the decision to come out on a bad day? Did you row out in the wrong direction? Or maybe you were meant to suffer after all—or worse, drown and die out here all alone? You grip your paddle harder, gritting your teeth and locking your jaw in frustration. Nothing seems in control, you think. Yet there’s a rudder—a divine rudder—steering it all.
Many lose their lives out at sea. Heck, many lose their lives every second daily on Earth, the sheer scale of it unimaginable. Stories attached to each soul that’s taken to the other side—whether they’ll be granted eternal union with our Father or not, we won’t know until our own time comes. Yet despite all this, the humanity in us—the instinct, the free will, all given by our infinitely loving Creator—taps at us annoyingly, like a woodpecker. Anxieties, worries, fear—none of these are implanted from above, but it’s so easy to blame our Father for our misfortunes.
I’m reminded of a short story about Father Gabriel of Georgia, who was visited by a woman who’d lost her child. She asked him what any mourning parent would: Why do some leave life young? She complained to God how much she endured for His love—insults, poverty, hardships—all of that, only for Him to take her child. Why? Her love, life, and limb—her child, much like the boat keeping you from the cold depths below—was taken away.
That night, the woman dreamed of angels. They took her to the Lord and told Him of her complaints. Then she heard His voice:
“Ask the woman what she wants.”
“Give me back my child,” she replied.
“Do you want to see your child?” the Lord asked.
“Well, I’m a mother—of course I do,” she said, her face full of tears.
“Show her the child!” the Lord commanded.
The angels brought the child, and she was happy.
“What do you want from me now?” the Lord asked.
“Why did you take him?” the woman complained.
Then the Lord commanded the angels: “Show her what her son would have done if I hadn’t taken him.”
And suddenly, like in a movie, the woman saw the terrible sins her son would’ve committed—and then the terrible fires of hell.
“Bring him back to Heaven!” the mother cried again, praying through her tears.
The Lord commanded, and the boy was returned to Heaven. Then He said to her: “Because of your kindness and love, I took your son to Myself. Don’t think I don’t know who and when I should take.”
Continue, but don’t despair. Our Father’s forever on His throne, forever in control. He won’t allow things to happen that He never meant for you. It’s gonna be tough—the stormy seas may last longer than you’d hope, and your heart will scream for it to stop—but keep rowing. He’s doing the steering, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. Exhaustion will bite at you, its gray, frosty fingers digging into your heart and head. But you know you’ll be taken care of. Like Job said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). You’ll see it all later—why some things happened the way they did. For now, trust Him. He’s calling, “Come to me, all you who are weary, and I’ll give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Keep going. There’s hope on the other side.