Meg

A terrible thing happened to a friend of mine yesterday. And it reminded me of someone that I, sadly, have not thought about in a while.

Megan Anne Brandon was a friend of mine, though not for a really long period of time. We knew each other in middle school, and were pretty good friends for the first few months of my freshman year. Then, in November, she shot herself.

It's tragic, you know? She was 14. The sweetest girl you could ever meet. I understand, mostly, why she did it. But even right now, it just fills me with grief.

I've been thinking, this morning, about where she is now, and what her future is. Considering the circumstances of her death, and the events leading up to it, traditional Christian theology would probably say she's damned. That infuriates me. The God that just damns people willy-nilly just doesn't jive with the reality of a loving Heavenly Father. That's the same kind of God who says, "Oh, I'm sorry, you lived in India and you never got baptized? Tough luck." Or says the same to infants who die without baptism. It's just like, really? Who do you think God is?

When you think about it, when you know who God is and what he wants, that just doesn't make sense. If he's really our Father in Heaven, literally, if he is the father of our spirits, he wants as many people to return to him as possible. He sent us here, he wants all of us back. He would have to be about the worse plan-maker ever to send billions of his children here with absolutely zero chance of ever returning. That's not just foolish, it's cruel.

So I'm grateful to know that that's not the case. I'm grateful to know the truth; to know what's what and who's who and how it all fits together.

As for Meg? I don't usually romanticize God or Christ. I usually think of them in a manly sort of way, lots of respect, gratitude. Love, but not in a soppy, emotional sort of way. In this case, though, I'm confident that Christ met Meg those years ago. I think she cried on His shoulder. I think He comforted her. And I know without a doubt that I will see her again.

And that's worth something.