betrays

Christianity in a Nutshell


When God Betrays Your Trust

My Personal Story


For nearly 9 months after finding that my wife was expecting a baby, every day I prayed, "Father, please keep Mother and Baby safe and healthy." We were so excited.

For several months Baby would kick and sometimes it would have hiccups. There was a real living person in there and we couldn't wait to meet him or her.

When my wife's contractions started I drove her to the hospital. A heart monitor was applied. Baby had hiccups again. Then the strong, regular contractions at 6 minute intervals began. "Not long now!" we thought.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Baby's heart rate dropped from 140-150 down to about 70, but after a couple of minutes it went back to normal again. "Nothing to worry about, I hope" went through my mind. The medical staff went back to their normal routine preparations.

Then the contractions suddenly ceased and Baby's heart activity began to fade away. "Oh God! What's happening?" I thought. "Father, please let everything be all right." I remembered the words of Jesus "Keep on asking and you will receive." I felt sure my wife and the baby would be ok. I had prayed sincerely and Jesus isn't a liar. He wouldn't break a promise.




Two doctors and a midwife had an urgent discussion and then they rushed my wife to the operating theatre for an emergency caesarian operation. I waited in the corridor outside, pacing back and forth, praying for a good result. The baby mustn't die and the thought of my wife dying was too terrible to contemplate.

25 minutes later a surgeon came out. He asked me to come into his office with him. He said in a quiet voice that I should sit down and he offered me a cup of tea, but all I wanted was to know whether my wife and the baby were alive. He then said "I'm afraid there's bad news."
"Is my wife alive?" I asked in blind panic.
"Yes, she's doing well," he assured me "but your baby isn't alive. Your wife had a girl. We spent 15 minutes trying to revive her, but it wasn't possible."
I felt devastated, yet relieved that the news wasn't as bad as it might have been. They left me alone in the office. I sobbed.




The next day the hospital staff took me to the chapel where they left me to be alone. I was able to hold my daughter. She had weighed 7 pounds 15 ounces at birth. My heart was aching and my tears kept on flowing. Her tiny hands were perfect, her eyes were tightly shut and she had dark brown hair. Her skin was cold, she was silent and she was motionless. The daughter I'd prayed so hard for was dead.



My thoughts turned once again to God, but in the place of trust and hope I now felt utter betrayal and anger. I still believed in His existence, but my attitude was very different. How could this so-called all-loving God treat my wife, my daughter and me this way? It was so unfair. God is supposed to be our Father in heaven. What normal loving father would treat his child so dreadfully? Couldn't this all-powerful God simply have prevented this unnecessary tragedy? It was all so pointless. It didn't have to happen like this. Who did this death help? Nobody.

I prayed. "Why, God, why?" I expected some sort of comfort to come upon me, but there was nothing. I knew from my experience, from the experiences of other people and from observing the marvels of nature that God existed, but He seemed to have deserted me just when I needed Him most. What sort of God was this? How could He be so cruel? "Where are You?" I prayed. "Do You care at all? Can I ever trust You again?" No answer of any kind. He had turned His back on me.

Though I never hated God, I felt that the love I'd had for Him in happier times had gone forever. The future looked very bleak.

When my wife was well enough I took her home. We looked with intense sadness at the empty pram waiting expectantly in the hallway. We gazed at the stack of unwanted baby clothes. All this grief could have been avoided if God had only answered my prayers.

Now we were home I continued to pray. "Why? Why? Why?" I felt He'd been cruel to my wife and me and I couldn't imagine what we'd done to deserve it. I looked at the world around me and became more aware than before of tragedies that were occurring every day. It seemed so wrong. Evil people, natural disasters and horrible diseases were causing misery in the beautiful world God had created. Why, if He's all-powerful, didn't He stop these dreadful things from happening?



Although my faith in God wasn't completely shattered, I felt it was very badly damaged, perhaps beyond repair.

I was in my 30s then. I'm in my 70s now. As the years passed, one by one, I noticed things and events which have gradually altered my opinions. I could have stubbornly remained at war with God, but I slowly came to the conclusion that the wiser thing to do would be to see if I could make any sense of the loss of my daughter and of the injustices so evident in the world around me. I would give God a chance. It's only fair, even if He hadn't been fair to me.


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Here is how my mind-set gradually changed over the years, step by step: