Mad At the Universe
Reading an article today I was reminded of the time when I was mad at God. Yes, I have been mad at a few people but never before at God.
Actually, I was mad twice. The first time was in the parking lot of the hospital where my daughter, then 8 years old, was rushed after a dog attack. I walked outside when I was told she would lose her ear and possibly her leg. My hands in a fist I demanded a reason why she was suffering. I was going through enough for both of us, I was ill, seriously ill, there was no need for her to be thrown into the mess and misery I was living. It was unfair, I yelled. “It is not right, she does not deserve this” .But after a few minutes my yelling became a whisper as I kneeled and prayed.
I was really angry a year later when after my life resumed its normal course, I felt I had been given a second chance. I took it and ran with it somewhat arrogantly. I felt nothing could stop me then. I had God on my side, it was evident because I had survived and now I was on top of the world. I had earned it.
11 months later I was informed I had relapsed and the fight would start again.
In the stairs of a church, I hugged my husband sobbing and asked why, why again. Once should be enough, why now, what had I done wrong?
Nothing. I had not done anything wrong. I had eaten right, I had prayed, I had exercised, I had amended relationships. I had forgiven, I had asked for forgiveness, what now?
I felt cheated. I felt God had failed me.
I stopped praying. I stopped running. I stopped eating. I spent my nights awake. Angry, Angry at a God that had disappointed me. I had kept my end of the deal and God had not. I had worked hard for almost a year to regain what I had lost, yes- there are friends who leave when we are no longer fun, jobs we can’t do. I have found a new job, the stability, the confidence, I was beginning to get all of that back and now, what?
I blamed God for what was happening to me. Attributing the responsibility of my suffering to God.
But sh*t happens. For no reason, no apparent reason and I needed a reason. My logical mind needed a reason.
It is hard at times like that not to try to find something or someone to blame for our misfortune as if in finding it, we could also find a way out. It is hard not to ask “why”.
Sh*t happens and the cause of our suffering remains puzzling. Partially caused by natural law, yet the suffering is hard to understand.
After two months angry, one morning I woke up and prayed. I ran again. And I faced my trial with faith, with God by my side.
I hope never to be angry again, not at God. But one big difference between us is that I remain….human, I get angry.
3 years ago