Law in Contemporary Society

God Does Not Make Mistakes?

"God makes no mistakes," my grandmother would fervently remind me whenever doubts about His actions clouded my mind. But on February 4, 2022, I couldn't help but believe that a mistake had been made. That day is etched in my memory with striking clarity. It was around noon when I was abruptly awakened by my dog's relentless whining, demanding to be let outside. Stirred from slumber, my then-girlfriend, Christin, rose from bed, dressed in pajamas, and went downstairs to attend to our furry companion, Niko. I dragged myself out of bed and made my way downstairs to the couch, intending to tackle some work. Upon Christin's return with Niko, she kissed my forehead and offered to prepare breakfast. Grinning in agreement, she headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Niko, our beloved English bulldog, took to drooling excessively on my computer, which irked me. I abandoned the couch and settled onto a bar stool positioned in front of our kitchen island. Christin neared the end of her breakfast preparations, setting our plates with care. After feeding Niko, she joined me, and together we savored our meal, discussing the day that lay ahead.

In the midst of our conversation, an unfamiliar number flashed on my phone screen, accompanied by the area code 903—my hometown's primary area code, a place I hadn't visited in over a year. Mentally unprepared for an interruption, I silenced the call, as was my usual practice until after breakfast. Moments later, the same number resurfaced, and I silenced it once more, flipping my phone facedown to avoid further distractions. Midway through breakfast, I turned to Christin and contemplated answering the call the next time it rang. Her eyes lit up with anticipation, as though expecting good news. Perhaps it would be another piece of positive information, following my recent acceptance into Columbia Law School.

With my breakfast completed, I flipped my phone back over, only to discover over a dozen missed calls from the same persistent number that had persistently pursued my attention earlier. Christin's previously gleaming expression faded rapidly. She mustered a forced half-smile and encouraged me to answer the phone the next time it rang. Scarcely thirty seconds later, the buzzing resumed. "Triston, I'm sorry to intrude, but I'm worried. Have you spoken to your father?" the voice on the other end pleaded, laced with panic. Confusion gripped me, leaving me uncertain how to respond. I explained that I had spoken to him a couple of days prior, and all seemed well. The caller went on to describe my father's complaints of chest pains the previous night, his subsequent departure to purchase medication from the gas station or pharmacy, and his failure to return home. Reassuring her that everything was likely fine, I requested that she update me if any news arose. I dialed my father's number, only to be greeted by his voicemail. Feeling the urgency, I promptly informed my immediate family about the concerning circumstances surrounding my father.

Five minutes later the phone rang again. "His car was found in a ditch, and he was rushed to the hospital... I don't know how long he was there before someone discovered him," the caller shrieked through the receiver. Instantly, my appetite vanished. Christin secured Niko in his kennel and guided me to the couch while I contacted my family to relay the unsettling situation. I urged my aunt, who lived closest to the hospital, to investigate further. Simultaneously, I reached out to my uncle, enlisting his aid in coordinating with my father's girlfriend for additional details. Those next ten minutes seemed interminable, filled with a profound sense of anguish as Christin and I anxiously perched on the couch, awaiting the next phone call. Little did I know that the forthcoming call would bring the final update about my father. This time, it was my uncle's voice on the other end, quivering with emotion. "Tris, he didn't make it, man," he sobbed uncontrollably. "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen," my grandmother would recite faithfully whenever my doubts about God emerged. I possessed unwavering faith, believing in the unseen and trusting God blindly. However, amidst the untimely demise of my father, I can't escape the belief that somehow, this is a mistake.

As I stand on the threshold of my first year of law school, a profound sense of trepidation envelops me. The absence of my father, my guiding light, leaves me paralyzed with fear. How will I navigate this daunting journey without his steady hand to lead the way? The mere thought of facing the challenges ahead without his wisdom and unwavering support fills me with a disorienting confusion. My father's pride was not only my source of motivation; it was my purpose. Every achievement was an opportunity to make him proud. It fueled my determination, giving my endeavors meaning. But now, in the wake of his untimely departure, I find myself adrift, grappling with the haunting question: What is my purpose now? I am lost in a maze of uncertainty, my compass shattered. the grieving process weighs heavily upon me. How does one navigate the seas of sorrow while embarking on the demanding voyage of law school? The waves of grief threaten to capsize me, engulfing me in their relentless turmoil. How can I mourn the loss of my father while simultaneously striving to excel academically and build a future he would have been proud of? The intersection of grief and ambition creates a dissonance within me, a discordant melody that echoes through the chambers of my heart.

In this tumultuous season of sorrow and confusion, I seek solace and strength. I long to honor my father's memory. But for now, I must navigate the uncharted territory of grief, learning to endure its weight while balancing the demands of law school. Though the path ahead appears shrouded in shadows, I will strive to find my way, drawing upon the fragments of memories I still possess.

-- By TristonFerguson - 16 Feb 2023

You know how deeply I feel for you as you go through this. I think it is important that we talk about the revision of this draft in person.

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r3 - 25 May 2023 - 00:44:46 - TristonFerguson
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