Understanding the “why” comes with surrender.
Still, it remains in my mind some days later, the picture of the children's shoes outside the front door of the house on a warm Sunday afternoon. I can feel the warm breeze blowing through the front door, hear the weeping of children, and feel the sting of death - and there was my little girl in the middle taking part in the "ministry of presence."
The only answer I have found for hate is love. Loving more, loving extravagantly, loving when it is easy, and when it is hard for love is an easy load to carry.