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The short answer is that I didn’t do anything to deserve such a tragedy, and neither did my mother or sister because the word “deserve” doesn’t even belong in the equation.

As I will explain, many things happen to people in their lifetimes that have nothing to do with deserving or not deserving. Related Article: Wrestling with Suffering The Question Says a Lot If the question of suffering bothers us, our discomfort reveals a great deal about how we envision God.

After his heart attack, which occurred one week after my Bar Mitzvah, he had given up smoking.

For many years, I was the only person I knew with one parent; this was the 1970s, and most people had two. After that, I became the go-to guy when it came to death.

When a friend lost her brother in high school, I went to pay a shiva call.

I screamed to my mother, who came running to the kitchen, grabbed the phone and called 911. Within a minute or two, police cars with sirens wailing came tearing into the cul-de-sac where we lived and screeched to a halt in front of our house.

The policemen ran in and instructed us to get a pillow, which one of them put under my father’s head, and a blanket, which he laid over him.

I distinctly remember him saying, “This isn’t a joke, this is serious.” Finally, the ambulance arrived and my father was taken out on a stretcher.

By this time, the entire neighborhood was in front of my house, and someone instructed me to go find my little sister, who was out riding her bicycle with friends.Perhaps there is suffering in the world because God is angry or has a bad disposition? The only reason why we are bothered by suffering is because we believe in a kind and just God.If we didn’t, we would have no expectations and there would be no question about suffering. ” reveals that we are questioning the justice in it and that we cannot accept injustice.He was trying to help me but never anticipated what was about to occur.As I began my assignment, my father had just finished dinner and was still sitting at the kitchen with a cold drink. After I’d written a few lines, for no apparent reason, I looked up into the kitchen just in time to see him fall off his chair and crash onto the kitchen floor. I ran upstairs and called to him, but he was unconscious.I guess I wanted to get out of there, but I had no place to go.

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