You don't have to read this-part 2

Last Tuesday (while driving to UCO- a Christian prayer group at the University of Michigan campus), I learned that the woman I wrote about in "You don't have to read this" froze to death during the night of Friday, January 21. I was in shock and horror when I heard this, yet I didn't scream or cry even though everything inside of me wanted to. Ed said that she suffered from paranoia. The Franciscan Friars had tried to get her in a shelter or apartment, but she would always leave. Ed took comfort in the fact that she was no longer suffering. It gives a whole new meaning of what heaven will be like and what the meaning of Revelation 21. 4, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, (for) the older order has passed away."

But we can mourn now and we should. I work with a lot of men, so I struggle sometimes with the concept of crying and mourning because I'm not really in an environment where I can break down and sob. Well, I could, but it's not the same as living in a household of women like I did last year. At the same time, there is a need to still mourn. Jesus wept. It's the shortest and sometimes I think the most powerful verse in the Bible. God mourns over His hurting people. A Father weeps over His children.

Fr. Tod, the parish priest of St. Aloysius Church- the church Linda usually stayed in front of, wrote this in the bulletin:
"Earlier this week as I drove by 37 State street, I noticed a small group of people gathered by the empty doorway where Brother Al discovered Linda. They seemed to be praying and I knwe it was for this poor woman and all who die of the terrible cold.
We could focus on the poverty that drives these people onto the streets, the desperation of their lives that leaves them so alone in the world. We could move onto rail against 'the system; and how it seems to be so uncaring and to always look for ways to withhold precious resources from those most in need. As true as all these arguments are and as much as we need to address the issues, we would, I suspect be avoiding the heart of the matter.
Both women are human persons. They are our sisters. They are gone now and we are bereft, grieving their passing. We feel the emptiness, the helplessness and perhaps even the futility in all our efforts to be there for them. We somehow need to give voice to our deep, aching pain. We need to remember both women in our prayer and in our corporation lives. They are a part of us and something of each of us has died with them. In our poverty we bring all of this to God and cry out, 'may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace!'"

Fr. Tod put into words so much what I was thinking and feeling. It was very comforting to see a man who is shepherding God's people give them hope and comfort. God didn't will for these women to suffer and die, but he did allow it. He also is able to and will bring good out of this situation. There is already a proposal and letter being written to the city to provide space within city buildings to be used on bitterly cold nights. I don't know what is going to come of it, but people are starting to recognize and act upon this desperate need. And for others of us, we just continue to weep, cry out injustice, love those around us, and hope in the saving power of our sovereign King. Come Lord Jesus. Come quickly. We eagerly wait for that day when there will be no more weeping or mourning, and we will be able to rejoice in your presence.