Do the Innocent Really Suffer? Part Two
This article continues where my first article of the same subject left off. The first article demonstrates my observations and conviction that children, and the innocent, don't really suffer in a way we think they do. They may appear to be suffering, but the pain is subdued and endurable. Sometimes, the person suffering is in some way "outside" their body during their suffering, as shown in my first article. I strongly suggest you read that first article if you haven't already done so, as I will not cover so thoroughly my reasons for these beliefs and convictions. Here, I will just tell a few more stories that tend to support the ideas proffered in my first article.
Not long after we were married, my wife had a severe abscessed tooth. The doctor needed to operate, and told us there would probably be much pain and discomfort for a while. She asked that we kneel together, and that I say a prayer over her tooth. During the prayer, something suddenly came out of my mouth: I asked that someone else might suffer her pain so that she wouldn't feel it so much. After she recovered from the operation, she told me one day, "You know, my suffering wasn't really that bad, and I know someone else suffered my pain. I don't know who it was, but I know it happened, because I was feeling the whole experience inside of me."
Whether this was real or not, it nevertheless happened that my wife did not suffer on the inside the way it appeared from the outside.
Duane S. Crowther, in his book, Life Everlasting (Published by Horizon Publishers, 1954), talks of his five-year-old daughter Laura Jean, who died of Leukemia. His family had traveled from Utah to Washington for a conference. During that conference, Laura Jean had become ill with several symptoms of the leukemia which she had had for a couple of months.
They made a makeshift bed in the back of their station wagon and headed home while Laura Jean slept. After two hours, Laura Jean seemed to be conversing with unseen beings in her sleep. After a short while, she awoke, sat up, and said, "Mother, I'm going to wake up soon." The family didn't know what she meant, and they helped her to go back to sleep. Mr. Crowther further writes: "A few moments later she hemorrhaged a small quantity of blood from her mouth, which alarmed us further and we began to search for a doctor. We traveled for almost two more hours before we found a doctor in McCall, Idaho. During this time she again hemorrhaged blood and again roused herself from her lethargic slumber just long enough to reassure us by saying, "Daddy, I'm going to wake up soon." Then she returned to her sleep . . .
"Dr. Nooks, who examined Laura in the emergency room of the hospital at McCall, was unable to help us and advised us to take her to one of the Boise hospitals where adequate blood and equipment were available. We drove about another twenty miles south to Cascade, where Laura suddenly sat up, and then her spirit quietly slipped from her body. We found ourselves only two blacks from the hospital there, where the attending doctor pronounced her dead.
"It was not until after her passing that we were able to fully comprehend the meaning of her cryptic conversation and to grasp the reassuring intent of her twice repeated announcement, "I'm going to wake up soon."
I recently read a book written by Jeannie Davis. The book is about her 12-year-old son, Ricky, who died of Leukemia. Before he died, he reported that he had been visited by Angels, and that they showed him the place where he was going to go after he died. The place was so beautiful and peaceful and full of love, that Ricky was greatly comforted. He told his family that if they had seen what he had, they would want to go with him. The title of the book bears the same message he gave is father when he called him at work one day, with a smile on his face: "Hurry home, Dad, today I'm going to die!" You can probably get it through Amazon.com, or see it at the following location:
There are many such stories, some of them from people I know, and that I trust to be sincerely telling me their stories. This seems to give much evidence to the notion that children and innocent people are closely cared for in cases where danger, suffering or death is involved.