Threads of Life

Even as I question the senselessness of Cyndi's death, I find occasion to rejoice in a moment of God's grace.

Louise Koonce, missionary in Togo and one of my dear teammates when I was there, is alive and well. Anyone who has driven in Africa knows that every time you get behind the wheel of a car, you take your life in your hands.

Louise was driving through Ahepe after a day in Lome, following one of the huge, old trucks that distributes cement from the cement plant in Tabligbo to points all over West Africa. These trucks tend to be poorly maintained and out of alignment. Often, when driving directly behind one, you can see the back tires and, skewed to the right or left, the front tires.

The truck Louise followed yesterday must have snapped an axle. Two rear wheels broke off at once and bounced directly toward her. She managed to avoid one, but the other hit her vehicle square on. She's all right, just banged up her wrist a little, but horribly shaken and the car will need repairs.

Louise asked us to rejoice with her, as I am asking you. Despite the pedestrians, bikers, and motorcycles along the road, no one was injured. She barely missed hitting a tree and the SUV, which easily could have rolled, stayed upright.

I want to ask "Why?" Why did God spare Louise and not Cyndi? (I'm so thankful he did). But the words that keep sounding in my head are those of Job 38.

"Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you and you will answer me." (Italics mine)

Even as I wrestle to understand, I am reminded that I am too puny, too narrow minded, to ever grasp what God is working out in his world. So, for today, I will stand with my nose against the tapestry of life. I can't see the whole thing-- I'm not even going to try. But I can see this little thread of my life named Louise, and I can rejoice that she and I are woven together.