Trying to understand yesterday's tragedy

Yesterday, a family we know lost their precious 7-year-old daughter in a tragic car accident north of Bellingham. Because I work for the church they attend, I was among the first to get word of the accident very early yesterday, and was able to watch events as they unfolded throughout the day. At first, we didn't know many details; then more and more information came out and the scope of the tragedy really hit home. There were many prayers, and many sad faces, around our office all day. But as the afternoon progressed, something else quite wonderful started to happen...people called in wanting to help. They had heard the news on the radio, in the local paper, and over the internet. Some knew the family well, or had known them in the past, or didn't really know them at all. But all wanted to help in whatever way they could.

Our church is pretty big. It is one of the largest (if not THE largest) in Whatcom County. It is easy for people to characterize big churches as uncaring, or a place where people don't connect, or where things are run more like a business than like a church. And yes, there may sometimes be truth to all of that. But yesterday, our church of 3000+ became a church of few. It became a place where people reached out to a family in need; where people cried and prayed together, and where every heart was touched in some way by this family's tragedy.

As a mom, I cannot begin to understand how a family could endure the loss of a child. I hope I never have to find out. And I know it's too early to look for any good or meaning in all of this sadness. But if, in a time when many in our nation and our community are reeling from the economic crisis, we have all spent the past 24 hours pondering our priorities, hugging our kids a little tighter, and realizing what is really REALLY important in life, then maybe something positive really can come from that horrible, horrible day.