Where Was God When That Happened?

June fiddled with the knobs of the car radio as they motored along, looking for some lively pop music.

“Lord, teach us to pray, even as John taught his disciples to pray.” The preacher’s deep bass intoned; “After this manner pray ye, ‘Our Father which art in heaven,” she hurriedly turned off the radio, and her husband Rich, cast her a look of amusement.

                “You couldn’t cut that program fast enough,” he teased.

                She pretended to glare at him. “You know how much I hate any reference to God as a Father,” she retorted then slumped back into her seat, arms folded across her chest. Rich skillfully maneuvered past a slow moving vehicle driven by a frail looking elderly man.

                June sat up to stare at him as they drove past then turned to Rich. “See that man! He fought in the war and his joy is eclipsed by the horrors of war.”

 “You know that man?”

                                                June nodded. “I know that man.”

                “But one man’s experiences are hardly enough to change your opinion about God.”
                June slouched down even further this time and rubbed her foot back and forth against the air vent. She didn’t answer, and Rich continued whipping in and out of traffic, in a hurry to get “there’ wherever ‘there’ was just for the fun of driving fast. Finally there was a long open stretch and he set the car on cruise and drove at a more reasonable rate.

                The silence should have been pleasant but Rich wondered if June was still mulling over that reference to God as a Father.

                “You’ve had some pretty tough experiences with your father.”

                June nodded almost imperceptibly.

                “With a name like yours, June, it must often remind you of the beauty of nature which was made by a loving Father.”

                June’s shoulders’ stiffened and she turned her face towards the window. Sometimes she wished Rich was the way he was before he ‘got religion’ a year ago. They used to party more, and have piles of fun. But she definitely didn’t miss his dramatic flashes of temper which had been dramatically curbed since then.

                Just then a mother duck led her family of ducklings on to the road, and he braked in order to miss them. They quietly watched them until they reached the safety zone then switched his blinkers on before turning on to a gravelled side road.

“Only a loving Father-God could have taught them to stick together like that,” Rich reminded her gently. June pressed her lips together in a tight line, and Rich knew better than to press the issue, but it was so tempting! Soon they had their tent set up in the quiet, fairly unknown resort in northern Saskatchewan, and their boat unloaded.

                It felt like they had all the time in the world as they watched the silvery splashes and circles indicating where fish were located.

                “We should have brought the fishing rod and tackle along,” June murmured, but didn’t really mean it. They had plenty of time to fish before supper; plenty of time, period.

                Rich pressed his finger to his lips and pointed out a baby loon perched on his mother’s back.

                “More signs of God’s love.”  When he saw the pain in June’s eyes he instantly regretted saying anything. It was a peaceful, leisurely morning. When they got hungry June unpacked their lunch and they munched on sandwiches, cookies and orange slices while exploring the far recesses of the lake.

                Shortly after lunch they returned to shore and wandered along the various park trails, eventually ending up at a small playground. They watched as a young father with his toddler straddling his shoulders ‘bucked’ past then as the child giggled delightedly.  He gently lowered the smiling child into a safety swing while his wife sat on a bench under a tree discretely nursing a newborn. Rich and June’s eyes met, but June’s eyes lowered first.

                I wish I could believe in a loving God. I just wish I could, but where was He when Dad was so brutally beating up Mom and I had to hide under the bed lest he start on me?

                                The days flowed by in quiet enjoyment, sometimes trail riding, sometimes chatting around the fire with new found friends but often just quietly fishing and more often than not tossing the fish back because they enjoyed being there more than catching anything.

                On Wednesday, it rained all day, which wasn’t entirely unexpected in that country, so they had come prepared. After a couple games of Scrabble, Rich brought out some videos he had secretly borrowed and started playing them on the fully charged laptop. He saw that June thoroughly enjoyed the one about the real Bambi and Thumper. It was cute to be sure. Amazing those animals so dissimilar in size would form such a close and lasting friendship. Then he put one on about quite a variety of animals that were obviously best of friends although their inherent natures would have argued the possibility.

                June put her head into her hands and started to sob. Rich wrapped her into his arms and cradled her head against his chest.

                “Where was God when Dad was so abusive?” she cried out in anguish. He loving touch was evident in nature, but not in her own home.

                “In the hearts of those who care,” Rich whispered, stroking her hair.

                June let out a deep, shuddering groan. The pain was deep, Rich knew, and he wished he could do more to help her. Only Man of all the creatures under heaven was given the power of choice, and oh how they messed it up for each other and themselves.

                “Just reach out for His healing touch,” Rich whispered. She didn’t answer but eventually the deep, shuddering sobs lessened and June fell asleep. Rich held her in his arms, and prayed that she would sometime feel the loving arms of God around her.