The deer

The other night, I was driving home in the dark, when a buck ran out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and managed to miss him. Knowing they often travel in groups of two or more, I glanced to my left just in time to see a second one, a doe, jump out. I hit that one. It was unavoidable.

I had just got my truck out of the body shop, having it repaired from the last deer I hit, several months ago. I had been driving it all of this time with the front-end torn up. When I finally get around to getting it fixed, a week and a half later, I hit another deer!

Now, I have another deductible.

At first, I was angry. But my indignation quickly gave way to sorrow, as I saw her pathetic form staring back at me. I could only imagine what must be going through her mind.

When I hit her, she turned flips in front of the truck and came to rest in the center of the road. At least one, and perhaps both, of her back legs were broken. Attempting to walk, she only managed to drag herself off to the side of the road. I sat helplessly watching as she stared at my headlights. I imagined her curiosity at the noisy thing with which she'd impacted. The wonderment she must have felt at the bright lights which brought her turmoil and illuminated her scene of terror. My heart went out to her. Like many others of her kind, she had made an extremely poor exercise in judgment, and her error had cost her dearly. I could only imagine the extreme sensation of pain, which shot through her furry body, at that moment. And I wished that I could do something to make it stop.

My truck smelled like it might overheat, so I continued the final half-mile home.

As I awaited the arrival of the police, I walked out of the house and stared up at the starry night sky. I prayed to God that the deer would die quickly. I knew, with a broken leg or two, that she wouldn't be able to recover. And there likely were more serious injuries that weren't as visible to me.

I thought about how the deer lay suffering, at that very moment. Life, as she knew it, was forever changed. She would now die a slow, agonizing death. I tried to imagine how horrendous it must be for her. One minute, she's running and jumping along — the finest example of a free spirit. And in a headlight's flash, a full-force encounter, a blurry tumble, and suddenly, unbearable pain and an inability to move. I hurt for her as I contemplated her predicament.

And then my mind returned to Terri Schindler-Schiavo, who has been ordered by a court to suffer a death of dehydration and starvation. I have attempted to place myself into her position countless times. I have tried to imagine what it is like to have hunger and thirst, beyond any desire of sustenance I've ever had.

What must it be like to have people guarding you to make certain that no one gives you anything to eat or drink? What would it be like to have people waiting for you to die, hoping that today will be your last day? To be fully cognizant of your surroundings, and not be able to speak? How frustrating would it be to have your husband trying to end your life, while claiming it was your wish? And for you to be powerless to protest? To have a voice, but be unable to make it heard?

Pain and suffering puzzle me. It's one thing to suffer as the result of your own actions or inaction. But when innocent people or creatures are forced to suffer due to no fault of their own, or without having the knowledge and understanding of why they suffer, it is difficult for me to comprehend.

This present generation is suffering under the burden of excessive taxation, and a fraudulent money system due to the inaction of preceding generations. A bleak future is forecast for future generations as this present generation's inaction has resulted in the implementation of NAFTA and GATT, and the subsequent loss of jobs, a $7,000,000,000 national debt, and a loss of property rights under the U.N. system of Agenda 21 and "Sustainable Development".

As I looked up again at the sky, I spoke to my Creator. "I don't know why you put me here," I said. "Why am I in this world that is full of pain and suffering? And why do your creatures have to suffer as they do?"

I have always believed God to be a loving Father. But at times, I must admit that I struggle with these questions. I have to believe that this world is not my home. There is something more to life than this world. As I see the craziness of world events — and the absolute madness of the Ruling Elite, how they terrorize us to accomplish their morbid agenda — it becomes crystal clear that this world is not real. The real world is the one for which this life is intended to prepare us.

There are those who would say that the pain and suffering are a part of the proving process. They suggest that it will somehow build a person's character and make them stronger. I suppose that's true, in some cases. But for others, it will have the reverse effect. It will make them bitter, cold, and angry.

Indeed, it is the same fire that makes the candle wax melt into a soft, gentle substance, that also hardens the clay. Then, when dropped or bumped the clay will shatter.

We are souls who cry out for justice. From the time we are very young, we expect to be treated fairly. When that expectation isn't met, we are dissatisfied and complain vociferously.

Yet the myriad of injustices in this life are as numerous as the stars that hang above my injured deer. The lessons we often must learn are as excruciating as her broken limbs. Often we will find ourselves just as perplexed as she, as we lay on the side of life's road. It is in these times, the temptation is to point a finger of blame at God and demand justice. But who are we to demand anything from God?

It is in these moments, that our faith is put to the test. And it is in these moments that the determination will be made as to which type of person will emerge from the fire of tribulation.

And that determination is yet an answered query for me.