Reflections on Katie: What Grief Taught Me About Curiosity Losing Katie changed more than my life. It changed the way I see the world. Grief made me ask questions I never expected to ask. Why do some tragedies receive enormous attention while others disappear? Why are some victims amplified while others are treated as inconvenient? Why can people defend decisions even when the consequences are painful, sometimes devastating, to innocent people? Intentions matter. But intentions are not outcomes. Those entrusted with authority have a responsibility to look at the entire ledger: What did we intend? What actually happened? Who benefited? Who suffered? Who was protected? Who was left vulnerable? What did we get wrong? And what needs to change? Too often, the last question is the one we refuse to ask. I also wrestle with something deeper: why are our hearts so susceptible to deception? Why can we become so invested in a narrative that we stop seeing the suffering that doesn't fit it? Grief has made reflection unavoidable for me. It has made me unwilling to accept that a conviction, a sentence or a convenient explanation means every question has been answered. And Scripture has given me a place to wrestle with that. Job questioned. The Psalms cried out. Faith did not require pretending to understand. But I am still asking. Still listening. Still trying to see the entire ledger. Still trying to walk the narrow path between truth and hatred, justice and vengeance, compassion and blindness. Maybe that is what grief taught me about curiosity: Sometimes asking why is an act of love. I wrote about that journey here: angeldadjoeabraham.substack.…