The God I Do Not Know

For years, you have struggled to find the perfect toys for your child. You want him to have fun. You want him to learn. You simply want him to be a kid. Your son treasures his independence. So, you leave him to play in his room. So as not to disturb him, you quietly walk toward his room. Peaking your head around the door, you realize he is gone. Panic sets in. Frantically, you begin to scream his name. You don’t stop. You scream and scream. Then, you remember he cannot speak.

Dalton Robertson was 6. Unlike the majority of his peers, Dalton was autistic and non-verbal. Wearing a pull-up diaper and rubber boots, Dalton wandered/wondered away from his Terrell, Texas home yesterday afternoon. Every law enforcement agency that could get to the scene searched and searched. It became increasingly apparent that even more resources were necessary. Dive teams were called in to search all bodies of water surrounding the home. That’s where the search ended.

The diver jumped into the small pond. Dirt flew. The water was cold and dark. Relying on extensive training the diver searched. The light seemed to be doing little good. Everything was so thick. In the distance, the diver thought something looked strange. Swimming closer, the diver found a large piece of trash. There was no disappointment. When you are searching for a child, you obviously hope you don’t find anything. The diver couldn’t quit. There was more pond to search. As the diver turned around to keep looking, he came face to face with Dalton Roberson. There was no warning. There was only the face of a child.

I followed the story all afternoon. I prayed and prayed. I was desperate for Dalton to be found. In the midst of his inability to speak, I could hear him. The heavens remained silent.

Unable? Unwilling? Unconcerned? Unstable? Uncompassionate? Undetermined? Unmoved? Unloving?

The God that didn’t save Dalton Robertson is…The God I Do Not Know.

Amen.