In January 1972, my beloved teen brother, Richard, was late coming home from sledding. Extensive searches yielded no indication of Richard's whereabouts. No one reported seeing or hearing anything that helped. We found no sled, no gloves, no hat¿
And no Richard.
He had vanished without a trace. There was not one solid clue for my parents or the police to investigate. How did life go on after a loved one goes missing? My 11-year-old self was grieved and confused. Was Richard someone's captive? Was he being hurt? Would the police advocate for Richard? Who could I trust? Who would help? What was now a normal day? Life became insane.
So began an endless cycle of searches, ransom calls, and police investigations. Unanswered questions swirled with dashed hopes to make a slurry of heartache. I blocked out the trauma. The ever-present need for closure left me anxious and angry. I was angry with the police, my parents, myself, and, even God. My faith in Jesus, fragile as a snowflake, had melted.
Did God overlook evil? Did I have to forgive? Who received Mercy? And what about Justice? As I matured, my yearning for these answers actually led me to find Jesus as Lord. Together we traversed these faith-crushing questions to glean true faith.
Despite years of living in the traumatic chaos of an unsolved crime against my family, I found answers in Jesus. I hope my journey of faith will inspire you to find God's Goodness. His Love never fails.
