February’s Hope | Faculty Commons

Mitchell Land, Journalism

University of North Texas

For much of my adult life I have associated February with Valentine’s Day, grant proposals and search committees.

Then on February 21, 1996 my 21-year-old son Austin was killed by a drunk driver traveling on the wrong side of the highway.

Austin was in college, a cheerleader, budding musician, committed Christian, and engaged to a wonderful young woman.

After the burial came the trial. Because of my faith, I was able to tell the driver at his sentencing that I forgave him. I told him I prayed that he would be free from carrying this burden the rest of his life.

Yet I still felt anger.

God Was Guilty

I decided that God was at least ‘guilty’ of failing to render aid. If a heart surgeon were walking along the sidewalk, and a stranger dropped to the ground at the surgeon’s feet in an apparent heart attack, we would revile the surgeon if he failed to render aid. Such a breach of medical ethics would be considered outrageous. The surgeon had it in his power to at least attempt to save the dying person.

So it is with God, we reason in our hearts. He has the power to save, to heal, to raise the dead, to defend and protect. And yet He seems to pass on by.

There were times I felt ambushed by grief. I would groan deeply and double over, clutching my stomach with the pain of loss. I would yell at God and ask, “Why? Why did you take Austin from me? I can’t bear the pain!”

When I was at the end of myself, God reached out and healed my bitterness. The help that I couldn’t give myself, God gave me. I realized that I could still trust Him, that Austin was God’s beloved creation before he was my child.

I remember times when my children would come to me with a friend in tow and ask if the friend could stay the night.

“Not tonight,” was my answer.

“But why?” they would whine.

“Because I said so,” was my reply.

If they continued to plead, I would have to take them aside for a reprimand. I would explain that as their father, I had a much wider view of what was going on. I considered issues – current family plans, schedules, even safety – that never entered my children’s heads. Whatever the reason, accepting my “no” meant trusting me.

He Sees Much Wider

Why did God not protect my son from an early death? I do not know – but I do know that He is God. He can see much wider and deeper than I.

God had not passed me by; He had walked with me through my pain. He kept his promise: In the valley of the shadow of death, He was with me. We all pass through this valley, whether it’s the death of a loved one, an unfulfilled dream, the disappointment of failure, or the deception of friends or colleagues.

He walks with us.

That’s enough for me.