In
my middle school years, I didn’t have an accurate understanding what a relationship
with God entails. I thought He was a magical genie who would grant any wish you
prayed for, but I soon realized, if God existed, He was no genie. If he was a
genie, everyone’s wishes would be granted, everyone would be happy, and no one
would be in pain. Even my immature 7th grade self could see this was
not the condition the world was in. I was confused why earth and utopia were
antonyms. I thought earth and heaven were supposed to be identical twins. I was
wrong. I understand why now, but that is a different topic. What is important
is that I didn’t understand then. The tragedy, violence, poverty, and hate in
the world deeply disturbed me. When I saw reports of murders in Detroit,
violent wars, and devastating natural disasters, my positive spirt would leak
until I was nothing more than a deflated balloon. Constantly seeing and hearing
of devastation in the world disheartened me so extremely I began to question the
existence of God. How could this supposed God who loves the world allow so much
hate? The thought of living in a world where the bad doesn’t stand a chance
against the good was too terrifying. I needed a reason to not lose hope, so I prayed
to God. I childishly plead for a sign that would prove God is alive in the
world. I was so desperate. Anything would do. Any small positive news report or
act of genuine love would have sufficed. But God didn’t do small. The next
morning I woke up to hear that Osama Bin Laden was found and killed by US
troops.
There was my sign. It was a validation of
God’s existence in the world. It was a message that the world was one step
closer to peace. It was the hope I desperately needed. I was ecstatic and utterly
amazed that God revealed Himself in such an exceptional way. My happiness grew
when I became surrounded by the boosted patriotic atmosphere in America. Right
before the school pledged its allegiance to the flag my teacher exclaimed, “Say
it proud today”. I did. That day and many following I didn’t see depressing
news reports of the world’s tragedies. Instead I saw people marching,
celebrating, and singing “God Bless America”. But God, do you bless it? Do you
bless this nation? A nation whose fervent momentary pride was based upon a good
kill. Do you bless me? A girl who thought the death of an enemy was an
honorable form of hope
Every American citizen I encountered
seemed thrilled with the news, except for my Mom. Her patriotic spirit was tiny
candle compared to the fire that was consuming the nation. Perplexed by the
reason her flame was so dismal, I asked her “aren’t you happy Osama is gone?”
She answered in her calm voice that hid the passion behind her unpopular
opinion, “No, I just don’t think it is right to be celebrating a death of a
person.” I tried to ignore what my mom said. I was convinced his death was
something to celebrate. It was a sign God sent me. The prayer and timing was
too perfect for it to be anything but a miracle. I couldn’t allow for its
purity to be tarnished. It had to have been a message from God proclaiming there
was an honorable hope in the world. Didn’t it?
Ambiguity is an inescapable side
effect of faith in God. God is a mystery. A mystery we won’t completely solve
in this life time. However, we are given clues. Many of the clues God has shown
me are relatively clear. Because of their clarity, these clues have aided me in
solving the mystery of God and have led to new understandings and revelations.
However, Osama’s death is a clue that is cloudy. Some would say ambiguous. It
could lead me down a few different paths. God could have been telling me that
it is okay to rejoice over any sinful person’s death and suffering. Another path
could be God proclaiming the world is hopeless and cruel because even the supposed
“good guys” act barbarically by celebrating the end of a fellow human. Lastly,
God was telling me that if I praise the suffering of another person, I would
remain a sinner. God has taught me to believe the latter. However, I am still
confused. If God has taught me believe that any human death shouldn’t be
celebrated, why did God positively illuminate Osama’s death in seventh grade?
When I was desperate for a hopeful and honorable sign He delivered a remarkable
occurrence the next day. I can’t believe it was a coincidence. Maybe God was
trying to give me hope for the moment. Maybe He understood what my seventh
grade self and America needed to hear. If that is true, why did He have my mom shine
a negative light on the idea? What my mom told me was truly wise, and I know
her wisdom was shaped by her Christianity. Maybe God wanted me to live in a
glass house of ignorance, but he wanted to crack it slightly so it would
crumble one day. Maybe God even wanted me to write about it. Maybe it is
everything I have thought of. Maybe I am so completely far off. I do not know.
I can guess, but will probably never come to a definite conclusion. That is
okay. However, I am a positive God has shown me one thing through this
experience. Osama’s death was a sign from God. A sign that I acknowledge but
will never cherish. Maybe that is why this sign is so ambiguous. My frustration
with not knowing the truth prevents me from treasuring the sign. If I can’t
appreciate the occurrence, how can I value the action which brought it to me?
The death of a neighbor and an enemy. Two people Jesus taught me to love.
God is mysterious. Osama’s death is one
of His mysteries that I might never figure out, but I am perfectly pleased with
discovering the clues in this life time instead of solving the case.
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