nighttime theodicy

Sometimes, in my nice townhouse, with my egalitarian marriage to a kind and wonderful man, and my beautiful, healthy child, who breaks my heart if he bumps his head on the coffee table or has a little bit of diaper rash, I forget that things like this exist.

Things to be grateful for:
-My son, healthy, beautiful, beloved
-My husband, kind, intelligent, funny
-My health, which is ridiculously good considering my inactivity and overeating
-My unimaginable wealth (compared to much of the world)
-My security and safety; everywhere I go I can go without fear that, for instance, a roving militia will attack our van, kill my husband, rape and mutilate me, and tote my baby off to God knows where

Ever since I had a child, stories like that one have become much more real to me. What did those mothers think as they knew they were going to die? What can you do in a situation like that to make sure your baby lives longer than a few days after you're gone?

I came downstairs to get a snack and hopefully relax enough to go back to sleep after last night's round of nightmares. Then I read that Hitchens piece.


What I believe is that all things work together for the good. I also see that for this to be true, that the power of the resurrection, that the ultimate redemption that awaits us and all creation must be impossibly more powerful and expansive than I can ever conceive. Which sounds about right, I guess.

But still, these children suffer. And no matter what happens in the end, time will not be reversed. They always will have suffered. I believe God will do something with that. But darned if I know what.

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