It’s a relational word, conveying cause and effect. It’s a word that connects dots, the ‘if and then’ of situations
I don’t trust sentences that begin, “Robb died because…”
There is simply no good way to complete that sentence, and nobody can finish it with any assurance at all. Only God knows.
And maybe there isn’t a ‘because.’ Unless the ‘because’ is the sin of a fallen, broken world.
Bad things happen to good people. Healthy men die young. Little boys are without a daddy. Nobody can put a label on it, an easy answer, “Oh, of course this is why.” And I tread carefully around anyone who thinks otherwise.
There will be beauty from these ashes, but I don’t believe God started the fire. He allowed it in his sovereignty, but he didn’t start it.
Now, place ‘because’ in a different spot in the sentence, and we’re dealing with a different sentence entirely.
“Because Robb died, …”
There are many effects to that cause.
Some I love; some I despise.
Some are miraculous and supernatural; some are inexplicable.
Some are unveiled already; some remain to be seen.
Some bring joy; some bring heartache beyond words.
Some I am thankful for; some I don’t care about yet. I may not ever, this side of heaven. So much of this is an atrocity, and every ‘because’ isn’t enough.
Perhaps someday I will know more of the ‘because.’
But the word is more powerful than one might think.