We will all do our fair share of grieving in this life, some more than others.
It’s been a few years since Robert Rogers lost his whole family in a wall of water on a rainy, dark night. This grieving man had come to play piano to the residents of the nursing home where my mother lives. She spoke told me his story as chronicled in his book Into the Deep: One Man’s Story of How Tragedy Took His Family but Could Not Take His Faith (Focus on the Family Books).
Robert alone survived raging, rapidly rising flash flood waters which swept their silver minivan off I-35, trapping some and sweeping others out into the cruel torrent. Wouldn’t you ask, “Why?” Why did God allow this to happen? Stunned and exhausted, but alive, Robert had to deal with intense grieving in the days ahead as he identified and buried his loved ones and returned to an empty home.
As I stood in my home for the first time since the flood, the essence of my family engulfed me. Reminders of them surrounded me. But there was something else to remind me that they were gone: silence. There were no cheers as I came through the door, no cries in the other room, no whining over who pinched whom, no ‘I love yous,” and no music.