Why He Took You
"Come on, honey, we have to go!"
My mom took my backpack and adjusted it in the floor. I climbed into the car, pulling on my seatbelt. "What's the big hurry?"
My mom turned on the car as she answered, "We have to get home. You'll need to get changed before we go to the funeral."
I groaned dramatically, "Mooom! I told you I'm not going! We got out of school early today and I don't want to waste it!"
"The school let out early because of the funeral," my mom answered as she turned the car onto the street.
"But I don't want to go!" I whined. I had better things to do!
My mom looked at me, "This isn't about you."
On that note, I sat in the car in a sulk. Who cared about the funeral? He was already dead! What was the point of crying over it if you can't change it?
When we reached home, I got sullenly out of the car and went to change. Once we had both changed we got back in the car. I didn't speak to my mother as we drove to the church.
As I got out of the car, I muttered to my mom, "Everyone's going to cry! I hate that…" I knew I wasn't going to cry.
My mom didn't acknowledge me. I followed her into the church and into the sanctuary. My eyes widened. There were so many people! I knew Dr. Warren was well loved and had a lot of patients, but I didn't know there were this many!
Dr. Warren was a children's psychiatrist. I had been going to him for about five years to deal with my ADD, and he had helped a lot. When we heard he had died, of course I was sad. But…not sad like I should've been. I didn't even cry, which disturbed me.
I thought the ceremony would be boring. And long…full of crying. I looked at the program. Crud, it's three pages!
Finally, it started with the organ playing. I was doodling on my program with the little pencils left by the hymnals. My mom pinched my arm and I stopped reluctantly.
The first hymn we sang meant nothing to me. I didn't want to be here and I definitely didn't want to sing. Then we went through little readings that were completely lost on me. Finally we got to sit down. I leaned back, preparing myself for a long, boring sit.
Then it happened. The speaker came up to the pulpit and began, "A few years back, a man told me he and his son had been seeing a man named Paul Warren."
It all broke loose. Tears came to my eyes. I looked down at my program. There was a picture of Dr. Warren. I remembered sitting in his office. He had toys in his office…army men, action figures, any old toy you could think of…all for the kids that came in…like me.
And I remembered how kind he was. He always treated me as if I was a precious person. He was encouraging and friendly. He liked to display artwork that his patients would do on his wall, even if it looked horrible.
He cared about us all.
That's what the speaker said. "Kids…he loved you all and had a special place for all of you in his heart."
I leaned over to my mother, pressing my face to her shoulder. I began weeping. My breath came out in loud, shuddering gasps. My mother hugged me, pressing her cheek to the top of my head. Tears clogged my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut as I clung to my mother. I missed Dr. Warren! This wasn't about me…I understood that now.
The tears didn't stop coming. I went through all the tissues my mom had wisely brought, dabbing at my eyes and nose. But a fresh burst of sorrow would come over me. Dr. Warren had been the most Christian man I ever knew. His faith had been strong and his heart big. And what about his family?
When the ceremony was over, I stood with the rest. We all went to the reception area. I nudged my mom's arm, "I want to go home…"
But we stayed for a bit just to be polite. There was food for everyone, but I didn't have an appetite. I kept breathing shuddering sighs. Every once in a while a wave would pass over me and I had to blink back the tears.
I looked about me. It seemed I was the only one still crying. I knew that there were many who were more sorrowful than me, but somehow…
At last, my school's counselor came up to us, greeting us. I only half listened to what she said to my mother. But one thing caught my attention.
"We told the kids at school to write letters to Paul," she said, tears coming to her eyes. "One child wrote 'I think God took you early because your work is done'."
I looked up, the tears brimming again. When a small child could discern that…you knew it was true.
Thank you for sending me to him, God. Thank you for making me part of his work. You are amazing and all knowing...and I know Dr. Warren is up there with you now, reaping the benefits of his work.
God is all powerful and all knowing. I knew this was his will. And that soothed me.
Thank you, my Lord.