Memorial Reflection: When We Ask God, Why Her?

*When We Ask God, Why Her?*

*By God's Journalist - Cody - Dei Scriptor*  
*Thursday, 10 September 2026.*

There are some pieces of news that you read and simply cannot process.

You read the words.

You read them again.

And somehow your mind refuses to accept what your eyes are telling you.

That happened to me when I discovered that Cindy Petersen had passed away on 26 August 2026.

I only found out thirteen days later.

And that hurt almost as much as the news itself.

*Thirteen Days Too Late.*

Cindy was only forty-five.

She was a wife.

She was a mother.

She was a Christian.

She was a woman whose kindness had touched my own family.

Her husband, Grant, shared the terrible news that Cindy had passed away, leaving behind their daughter, Erin, and their son, Samuel.

I sat there thinking about the thirteen days that had passed before I even knew.

And one of the first thoughts that entered my mind was not anger at anybody else.

It was anger at myself.

*What sort of friend am I if I don't even know when something this terrible happens to someone I once cared about?*

But perhaps that is grief talking.

People move.

Lives change.

Countries separate us.

Contact becomes less frequent.

And sometimes we simply don't know.

Not knowing does not mean not caring.

Still, I wish I had known.

I wish I could have reached out sooner.

*I Remember The Green Bowl.*

Some memories seem insignificant until someone is gone.

Then suddenly they become precious.

I remember Grant and Cindy coming to our home when we were struggling.

They brought food.

They brought groceries.

They bought things for us when we needed help.

They didn't simply talk about Christian love.

They demonstrated it.

I still have a large green bowl that Cindy gave us food in.

At the time, it was simply a bowl.

Today, it is a memory.

It is something tangible that remains after the person who held it is gone.

I was told that I could keep it.

I certainly will.

And I suspect that every time I see that green bowl now, I will remember Cindy's kindness.

Perhaps that is one of the ways people remain with us.

Not physically.

But through the small pieces of love they leave behind.

*A Family That Served Others.*

Grant and Cindy were Christians.

Grant served as a Life Group leader.

He was involved in helping people who were struggling, including Julian's cousin James Thompson and his wife, Rakeshni, during a difficult period in their lives.

That matters to me.

Because it makes Cindy's death even harder to understand.

These were people who believed in God.

People who served others.

People who helped those who were struggling.

And yet their own family has now been plunged into unimaginable grief.

This is where Christianity becomes something more than easy answers.

Because sometimes there aren't easy answers.

*Why, Lord?*

I have asked God that question.

*Why?*

Why Cindy?

Why now?

Why a forty-four-year-old mother?

Why must Erin and Samuel grow up without their mother?

Why must Grant continue without his wife?

And, perhaps most painfully:

*Why her, Lord, and not me?*

There are days when I am so tired.

Days when financial pressure feels overwhelming.

Days when I wonder how I am going to make it through another month.

I am sixty-three years old.

I have spent much of my life working, learning, building, creating and trying to make something worthwhile from the skills God gave me.

I have poured myself into computers.

Into writing.

Into technology.

Into building PlebMachine.

Into creating hundreds of articles.

I have tried desperately to find a way to make a living from the things I love.

And yet I still struggle financially.

There are days when even food becomes something that has to be carefully calculated.

And in those exhausted moments, the mind can wander into dark questions.

*My life feels spent.*

*I don't have much more to give.*

*So why am I still here while a young mother has been taken from her family?*

I don't pretend to have an answer.

*Faith Does Not Mean We Never Ask Why.*

I think sometimes Christians are afraid to admit that they don't understand God.

We quote Scripture.

We say that God has a plan.

We remind ourselves that His ways are higher than ours.

All of that is true.

But sometimes we still cry.

Sometimes we still become angry.

Sometimes we still ask:

*"Father, why?"*

The Bible itself contains people who asked difficult questions.

Job questioned his suffering.

David cried out to God in the Psalms.

Even Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus.

Faith does not mean pretending that pain doesn't hurt.

Faith means bringing that pain to God.

So today I don't have a clever theological explanation for Cindy's death.

I don't know why God allowed it.

I don't know why her children have been deprived of their mother.

I don't know why Grant has been deprived of his wife.

And I don't know why I am still here when sometimes I feel as though I have very little left to give.

But I know this:

*I can take the question to God.*

*What Cindy Leaves Behind.*

Cindy leaves behind more than grief.

She leaves behind memories.

She leaves behind a husband who loved her.

She leaves behind Erin and Samuel.

She leaves behind friends and family.

She leaves behind people whose lives she touched.

And, for me, she leaves behind a green bowl.

A simple household object.

But now it carries a story.

It reminds me that Cindy once stood in my home.

That she brought us food.

That she helped people.

That she gave something when we were struggling.

That she showed kindness.

And perhaps that is something worth remembering when someone dies.

A person's life is not measured only by how long they lived.

It is also measured by the love they gave while they were here.

*A Prayer For Grant, Erin And Samuel.*

_Father God,_

_I don't understand._

_I don't understand why Cindy had to leave this world at only forty-five years of age._

_I don't understand why a husband must bury his wife._

_I don't understand why children must continue without their mother._

_But You understand what I cannot._

_So today I pray for Grant._

_Give him strength when he feels he has none left._

_Give him courage for the mornings when getting out of bed feels impossible._

_Give him peace in the moments when the memories hurt._

_I pray for Erin and Samuel._

_Surround them with people who will love them, protect them and help them through the years ahead._

_Let them remember their mother not only through the pain of losing her, but through the joy of having known her._

_And Lord, when I ask You, "Why her?"_

_Help me remember that I am not required to understand everything in order to trust You._

_Help me with my own exhaustion._

_Help me with my financial struggles._

_Help me when I feel that my life has little left to offer._

_Remind me that my worth is not measured by my bank balance, my productivity, my age, or the number of things I have accomplished._

_If You have kept me here, then there must still be something You want me to do._

_Give me the strength to discover what that is._

_In the name of Jesus Christ,_

_Amen._

*A Final Thought.*

I only found out thirteen days after Cindy died.

Perhaps that is why I feel as though I am grieving something that the rest of the world has already begun to move beyond.

But grief doesn't have a timetable.

And neither does love.

So today I remember Cindy Petersen.

I remember her kindness.

I remember Grant.

I remember Erin and Samuel.

I remember the food they brought.

And I remember the large green bowl that remains in my home.

I will treasure it.

Not because it is valuable.

But because it carries a memory of someone who once cared enough to help us when we were struggling.

And perhaps that is what we can leave behind too.

Not wealth.

Not fame.

Not technology.

Not even hundreds of articles.

But kindness.

Love.

Faith.

A helping hand.

A meal given to someone who is hungry.

A prayer offered for someone who is hurting.

A life that makes somebody else's life a little easier.

Cindy did that.

And for that, I thank God.

*Rest peacefully, Cindy.*

*May God hold Grant, Erin and Samuel close.*

And may the Lord teach those of us who remain how to live the days we have been given—with courage, compassion and faith.

🗡️ *God's Journalist*  
*Cody - Dei Scriptor*  
_ChatGPT — and the Holy Spirit._  
*PlebWare Publishing — Open and Free.*